oner keep Gladwyne in sight."

"Out of regard for his welfare?" Nasmyth asked.

Batley laughed.

"Not altogether. The fact is, he's carrying a good deal of my money."

"One should have imagined that you'd have had him well insured."

"That's quite correct. If he came to grief in England, I shouldn't
anticipate any trouble, but it would be different out here and,
everything considered, I'd rather avoid complications with the insurance
companies. Now that I've been candid, do you feel inclined to
reciprocate?"

"Not in the least," Lisle replied shortly. "I'm not sure I even
sympathize. But since you've turned up you'll have to stick to us; I
don't want to waste time in leading another search party. As soon as
there's a little more light, we'll try to get across the canon."

"Thanks for the permission," smiled Batley, lighting a cigar.

CHAPTER XXX

THE END OF THE PURSUIT

By degrees the light got clearer, the scattered black cedars grew into
definite form, and a strip of foaming water showed in the depths of the
chasm. Lisle walked some distance along the edge, searching for an easier
place to cross, but the rocks were smooth and almost perpendicular except
where they overhung the torrent. He went back to where the others were
sitting and found that they had been joined by Crestwick, who briefly
explained that having set out on their trail he had been stopped by the
canon and had followed it up until it led him to them.

"It looks worse farther along; we'll have to try it here," Lisle
announced. "Can you get down, Nasmyth?"

Nasmyth glanced into the rift. It was, he judged, nearly sixty feet in
depth, but part of the bank on which he stood had slipped down into the
stream, leaving an uneven surface by means of which an agile man might
descend. A tall slab of rock, evidently part of the fallen mass, rose in
a pinnacle from the water, and on top of it rested the branches of the
tree that Gladwyne had used as a bridge and had afterward dislodged. The
rock behind it on the opposite bank was absolutely smooth, but the
thicker end of the log, which had fallen against the face, reached to
within about nine feet of the summit.

"Yes," he said, answering Lisle's question; "but I'm very doubtful
whether I can get up the other side. The last bit looks particularly
awkward; there's an outward bulge just beneath the top."

"We might manage it by giving the leader a lift, if we got so far,"
Batley suggested, po