n the wet
rope. Then, little by little, he increased his pull until all the
strength of leg muscles, back, and arms was brought to bear. It seemed
that there was no result; Alcatraz did not change his position; but
inch by inch the rope crept in to him; he at length could shift holds,
whipping his right hand in advance of the left and tugging again.
There was more rapid progress, now, but as the first frenzy of nervous
energy was dissipated, a tremor of exhaustion passed through his limbs
and the beat of his heart redoubled until he was well-nigh stifled.
True, the rope was coming in hand over hand, now, but another danger.
The head of Alcatraz was sinking, his nostrils distended to the
bursting point, his eyes red and bulging from their sockets. He was
being throttled by the grip of the slip knot; and an instant later his
head disappeared beneath the surface.

Then all weakness passed from Red Perris; there was invigorating wine
in the air he breathed; a vast power clothed him suddenly and while
the frenzy endured he drew Alcatraz swiftly in from the gripping
currents and to the comparatively mild swirl of water where he stood.
Wavering, distorted, and dim as an image in a dull mirror, he saw
the form of the horse float towards him beneath the water. Still the
frenzy was on him. It enabled him to spring from his place, tear the
strangling noose from the neck of the stallion, and lifting that
lifeless head in both hands struggle towards the shore. The water
buoyed a weight which he could not otherwise have budged; he stumbled
in the shoaling gravel to his knees, rose again lifting and straining,
until blackness rushed across his eyes; and he pitched forward on his
face.

He wakened in a whipping rain that stung the back of his neck and as
he propped himself on his arms he found that he had been lying across
the neck and shoulders of the stallion. That much of him, and the
slender forelegs, was clear of the water. But had he not brought a
dead thing to land?

He bent his cheek to the nostrils of Alcatraz, but he felt no breath.
He came reeling to his knees and slid his hand beneath the water to
the heart of the horse; he felt no reassuring throb. Yet he could not
be sure that the end was indeed come, for the blood raged and surged
through his brain and waves of violent trembling passed over him so
that his sense of touch might well belie the truth. How long had he
lain unconscious--a minute or an hour?

At least, h