He had failed, that was evident. The question now was, how to save
himself. With a sudden, catlike movement he whirled over on his back,
caught his heel in a tiny, saucer-shaped depression and sat up. Then his
courage failed him. Day had at last penetrated to the floor of the
valley, and he was appalled at the frightful distance.

"Go ahead and make it!" Hazard ordered; but Gus merely shook his head.

"Then come down!"

Again he shook his head. This was his ordeal, to sit, nerveless and
insecure, on the brink of the precipice. But Hazard, lying safely in his
crevice, now had to face his own ordeal, but one of a different nature.
When Gus began to slide--as he soon must--would he, Hazard, be able to
take in the slack and then meet the shock as the other tautened the rope
and darted toward the plunge? It seemed doubtful. And there he lay,
apparently safe, but in reality harnessed to death. Then rose the
temptation. Why not cast off the rope about his waist? He would be safe
at all events. It was a simple way out of the difficulty. There was no
need that two should perish. But it was impossible for such temptation
to overcome his pride of race, and his own pride in himself and in his
honor. So the rope remained about him.

"Come down!" he ordered; but Gus seemed to have become petrified.

"Come down," he threatened, "or I'll drag you down!" He pulled on the
rope to show he was in earnest.

"Don't you dare!" Gus articulated through his clenched teeth.