he thought, and reached the dangerous spot before Wilkinson
got across. Splashing, and slipping in the mud, he advanced recklessly,
and Wilkinson could not turn back. Moreover, he could not strike
Charnock, because he was in the workmen's view, and the railroaders
would not approve his attacking an apparently defenseless man. He
thought Charnock knew this, but the fellow was not as defenseless as he
looked. The heavy bag gave him a certain stability and momentum.

"If you come any farther before I find a hold, we'll both go down," he
said.

"It looks like that," Charnock agreed. "I don't mean to stop."

Wilkinson clutched at the slippery bank but the wet gravel tore out. It
was impossible to get up, and if he tried to scramble down, he might not
stop until he fell into the river. He glanced at Charnock's set face and
got something of a shock. He had thought the fellow meant to bluff and
would give way if he were resolutely met; Charnock was impulsive, but
never stayed with a thing. Now, however, he looked dangerous.

Driving his boots into the mud, Wilkinson braced himself, with one foot
so placed that it might trip his antagonist. Then he set his lips as
he met the shock. Charnock struck him with his shoulder and forced him
backwards by the weight of the bag. The mud slipped under his feet; he
staggered and clawed at the bank, but his fingers found no hold. They
plowed through the miry gravel, and falling face downwards, he rolled
down the hill.

Charnock lurched across the gully and stopped when he reached the shelf.
Wilkinson had swung round on his descent and his head was lowest. He
was sliding down rather slower, and there were some trees not far off.
Charnock did not care if he brought up among them or not, and watched
with a curious dispassionate interest. The fellow looked ridiculous
as he went down, scattering the gravel with his hands. He was in some
danger, but this was his affair.

Wilkinson rolled against the thin branches of a half-buried tree, which
caught and turned him partly round. The branches broke and he went down
sideways, until he and a wave of loosened gravel struck another tree.
This stopped him, and Charnock plodded on until he was off the shelf.

"Better go down and fetch him, boys," he shouted to the other men. "I
reckon he's not much the worse, except in temper, and you'll find a rope
a piece back up the track."

He saw them start and then resumed his journey. Whether he was hurt or