message to the police-station,
whence were presently despatched a couple of constables who found the
man, stunned and considerably bruised. Neither did he forget Section
D--with the result that there was a breakdown gang on the spot before
midnight.

The buckled pile was found to have been nearly chopped through a few
feet from the top, and there was no doubt that if O'Donnell had been
undisturbed, he would have done the most serious mischief to the work.
As it was, the completion of the section was delayed for two months.

Trevannion heard this story during his convalescence--a lengthy period,
since two ribs were broken as well as the arm, and he had suffered
severely from shock and exposure. In answer to a question Garstin said
that at the time he had scarcely noticed the physical strain. The thing
that was uppermost in his mind was the fear that Trevannion might drown
before he could get to him. No, he had experienced no personal sensation
of nervousness, when preparing to descend into the section. Whereupon
Trevannion thought deeply.

"I owe my life to your pluck, and I was a fool to faint at the critical
moment," was all he said.

But, as has been remarked, his thoughts were many and profound. Nor was
he ever again heard to reflect on Garstin's "want of nerve."

IX

MY ADVENTURE WITH A LION

I once served an apprenticeship on a New York newspaper, and some of my
experiences as a reporter on the _Evening Smile_ I shall never forget.

A reporter on an American newspaper is like a soldier--he is expected to
obey orders implicitly, even at the risk of his life. For this reason he
is paid well, but a nervous reporter often goes out of the office with
his heart in his mouth and an "assignment" that makes him think
seriously of taking out another insurance policy on his life.

One gloomy winter's morning I got down to the office at eight o'clock as
usual, and had hardly reached my desk when the news editor--a kind man,
who was always giving me opportunities of distinguishing myself--came up
and began to speak at once in a very mysterious voice.

"Got a dandy assignment for you this morning," he said.

I looked up gratefully.

"I guess you carry a six-shooter, don't you?" he asked. "You may need it
this trip."

"Oh!" I managed to gasp.

"A lion's escaped," he went on, in the quick, nervous American way of
an American news editor.

"Has it really?" I said, wondering what was coming next.

"Jaffr