his color. There was a slight cut on his head, from which had
trickled a little blood that ran down to his white collar.

"Easy, boys!" cautioned Hank, and his voice rasped out in the
quiet that succeeded the staccato noise from the motor cycle. "Go
easy now! A touch'll send us down," and he gazed shudderingly into
the depths below.

"We've got you," Blake assured him, as he and Joe drew still
farther back on the platform of the bridge what was left of the
carriage. As they did so one of the rear wheels collapsed, letting
the seat down with a jerk.

"Oh!" gasped Hank, and a tremor seemed to go through the
insensible frame of the other.

"It's all right," Blake assured the livery stable driver. "You
can't fall far."

"Not as far as down--there," and Hank pointed a trembling finger
into the depths of the ravine.

"Can you get out--can you walk?" asked Joe.

"Yes. I'm more scared than hurt," Hank made answer.

"How about him?" asked Blake, motioning to the other occupant of
the carriage.

"Only a little cut on the head, where he banged, up against the