the edge of the sink.

"A rope!" he shouted, and seized the thirty-foot lariat that was handed
him. With this, Tom, now on foot, ran within casting distance of the
unfortunate, who was being rapidly enveloped by the quicksand.

"Come back, Mr. Reade!" bellowed Foreman Payson. "The drift is setting
in on this side of you. Back, like lightning, or you're a doomed man!
You'll be swallowed up by the Man-killer yourself!"

But Tom, intent only on saving the unfortunate laborer beyond, was
wholly heedless of the fact that his own life was in as great danger.

CHAPTER X. HARRY FIGHTS FOR COMMAND

"Come back, Mr. Reade!" implored Foreman Payson.

For Tom, who had made two casts with the lariat and failed, was
knee-deep in shifting sand himself.

"Keep cool!" the young chief engineer called over his shoulder. "I'll be
back--both of us in a minute or two."

The hapless laborer was now engulfed to his neck in the quicksand.

"Save me! In Heaven's name get me out of this!" begged the poor fellow,
frenzied by dread of his seemingly sure fate.

"I'm doing the best I can, friend!" Tom called, as he made a fresh cast.

This time the noose of the raw-hide lariat dropped over the laborer's
head.

"Fight your hands free, man!" Tom called encouragingly. "Fight your
hands and chest free, so that you can slip the noose down under your
armpits. Keep cool and work fast, and we'll have you out. Don't let
yourself get excited."

In the meantime Tom was wholly unaware that the engulfing quicksand was
reaching up gradually toward his hips.

Foreman Payson had ceased to try to attract Tom's attention. Whatever
was to be done to save the chief engineer must be done swiftly. There
was not another lariat, or any kind of rope at hand.

Behind was a cloud of alkali dust. Harry Hazelton was riding as fast as
he could urge a spirited horse.

In another moment Hazelton had reined up at the edge of the group,
dismounting and tossing the reins to one of the workmen.

"My man, you get on that horse and fly for a rope!" ordered Harry.

This last Hazelton shot back over his shoulder, for he was pushing his
way through the rapidly forming crowd to Payson's side. Another foreman
had just come up.

"Mr. Bell," shouted Harry, "drive the men back who are not needed. We
don't want to put a lot of weight on the soil here and cause a further
cave-in."

By this time Harry was at the edge of the platform. In a twinkling he
was out on the