Part 4 (2/2)
”Save me! Help!” cried the man for a third time. He was up to his middle in the spongy soil and sinking rapidly.
”Keep up your courage; we will a.s.sist you!” shouted Paul in return.
”Thank G.o.d, somebody has heard my cry!” murmured the man, gratefully.
”You must be quick; I am sinking rapidly,” he continued aloud.
”Have you anything in the shape of a rope with you?” asked Paul of Chet.
”I have not.”
This was a sad predicament, as the man was all of three yards from solid ground. How to get to him was a question. But it was solved by Chet, as he brought a bit of stout cord from his pocket.
”Tie the two stocks of the guns together,” he said. ”This way; let me show you.”
He held the two stocks side by side, so that they overlapped each other about eight or ten inches. The cord was hastily wound about them and tied, and it was Chet who thrust one of the gun barrels toward the sinking man, while he firmly grasped the other.
”Catch hold,” he said. ”Paul, help me land him.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MAN CAUGHT THE END OF THE GUN.]
The man caught the end of the gun and Paul took hold of Chet's hand. Two efforts were made, the first time the man letting the gun slip and sinking deeper than ever. But the second effort was successful, and, panting from his unusual exertion, the man reached the solid ground and fell exhausted.
CHAPTER V.
Good Cause for Alarm
It was several minutes before the man who had been rescued from the sink hole could sit up and talk. His hat was gone, and with a dirty face and tangled, muddy hair, he presented a sorry spectacle.
”I'm very thankful to you for what you have done,” were his first words, accompanied by a look that told plainly he felt what he said. ”I thought I was at the end of my string sure, as they say in these parts.”
”I allow that's a bad hole to get into,” returned Chet. ”I wouldn't want to get into it myself.”
”And may I ask to whom am I indebted for my life?” continued the man.
”My name is Chetwood Winthrop, and this is my brother Paul.”
”I am exceedingly glad to know you, boys. My name is Noel Urner, and I am from New York. I am a stranger in Idaho, and I know nothing of such treacherous places as this--at least I did not know of them until a short while ago.” And the man shuddered as the memory of his fearful experience flashed over him.
”It's one of the unpleasant things of the country,” responded Paul, with a little laugh. ”But how came you in it?” with a glance down at the spurs on the man's boots.
”I see you are looking at my spurs. Yes, I had a horse, but he is gone now.”
”Gone! In the sink hole?” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Chet.
”No; he was stolen from me.”
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