lone," was the enigmatical response of the younger guide.

Miss Alice overheard both propositions; and, before the two men returned
to their side, that high-spirited young lady had urged her horse down
the declivity.

Alas! at this moment a gust of whirling snow swept down upon her. There
was a flounder, a mis-step, a fatal strain on the wrong rein, a fall,
a few plucky but unavailing struggles, and both horse and rider slid
ignominiously down toward the rocky shelf. Mrs. Rightbody screamed.
Miss Alice, from a confused debris of snow and ice, uplifted a vexed and
coloring face to the younger guide, a little the more angrily, perhaps,
that she saw a shade of impatience on his face.

"Don't move, but tie one end of the 'lass' under your arms, and throw me
the other," he said quietly.

"What do you mean by 'lass'--the lasso?" asked Miss Alice disgustedly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then why don't you say so?"

"O Alice!" reproachfully interpolated Mrs. Rightbody, encircled by the
elder guide's stalwart arm.

Miss Alice deigned no reply, but drew the loop of the lasso over her
shoulders, and let it drop to her round waist. Then she essayed to
throw the other end to her guide. Dismal failure! The first fling nearly
knocked her off the ledge; the second went all wild against the
rocky wall; the third caught in a thorn-bush, twenty feet below her
companion's feet. Miss Alice's arm sunk helplessly to her side, at which
signal of unqualified surrender, the younger guide threw himself half
way down the slope, worked his way to the thorn-bush, hung for a moment
perilously over the parapet, secured the lasso, and then began to pull
away at his lovely burden. Miss Alice was no dead weight, however, but
steadily half-scrambled on her hands and knees to within a foot or two
of her rescuer. At this too familiar proximity, she stood up, and leaned
a little stiffly against the line, causing the guide to give an extra
pull, which had the lamentable effect of landing her almost in his arms.

As it was, her intelligent forehead struck his nose sharply, and I
regret to add, treating of a romantic situation, caused that somewhat
prominent sign and token of a hero to bleed freely. Miss Alice instantly
clapped a handful of snow over his nostrils.

"Now elevate your right arm," she said commandingly.

He did as he was bidden, but sulkily.

"That compresses the artery."

No man, with a pretty woman's hand and a handful of snow over his mouth