you will want
something more substantial than fine speeches."

"I shall indeed."

Graydon filled from the spring the bottle which had contained milk;
and then packing his little hamper he led the way downward, over
and through obstacles which often involved no little difficulty, and
sometimes almost danger.

"May I help you all I please?" he asked.

"Yes, when I can't help myself."

Then he began to rejoice over the ruggedness of the way, which made it
proper to take her hand so often, and at times even to lift her over a
fallen tree.

"What fun it is!" cried Madge.

"The best I ever had," he replied, promptly. But they had not realized
the difficulty of their attempt; for when little more than half-way
to the foot of the mountain they came to a ledge down which there
appeared no place for safe descent. As they were skirting this
precipice perilously near the edge, he holding Madge's hand, some
loose debris gave way beneath his feet.

Instead of instinctively clinging to Madge's hand, even in the act of
falling he threw it up and around a small tree, which she grasped, and
regained her footing, while he went down and disappeared.

At first she was so appalled that she could do no more than clutch the
tree convulsively and look with blank horror at the spot where she had
seen him last. Then came the thought, "His life may now depend upon
me."

The distance he had fallen would not be necessarily fatal, and below
the ledge there were low scrubby trees that might have broken the
impetus of his descent. She called in tones that might have evoked
an answer even from the lips of death; then, with a resolution in her
pallid face which nothing could daunt, she sought to reach her side.

At first Graydon was utterly unconscious. At last, like a dim light
entering a darkened room, thought and memory began to revive. He
remembered that he had been at Madge's side, and had fallen; he had
grasped at branches of trees as he passed through them, and then all
had become dark. He tried to speak, to call his companion, but found
be could not. He almost doubted whether he was alive in the flesh. If
he were he must have received some terrible injury that had caused a
strange paralysis.

His confused thoughts finally centred wholly on Madge. Had she fallen?
The thought of her, perhaps injured, possibly lying unconscious or
dead near him, and he helpless, caused a dull, vague dread, like a
cold tide, to overwhelm his very sou