"Sure, I will, if you don't come!" Again he jerked the rope.

With a despairing gurgle Gus started, doing his best to work sideways
from the plunge. Hazard, every sense on the alert, almost exulting in
his perfect coolness, took in the slack with deft rapidity. Then, as the
rope began to tighten, he braced himself. The shock drew him half out of
the crevice; but he held firm and served as the center of the circle,
while Gus, with the rope as a radius, described the circumference and
ended up on the extreme southern edge of the Saddle. A few moments later
Hazard was offering him the flask.

"Take some yourself," Gus said.

"No; you. I don't need it."

"And I'm past needing it." Evidently Gus was dubious of the bottle and
its contents.

Hazard put it away in his pocket. "Are you game," he asked, "or are you
going to give it up?"

"Never!" Gus protested. "I _am_ game. No Lafee ever showed the
white feather yet. And if I did lose my grit up there, it was only for
the moment--sort of like seasickness. I'm all right now, and I'm going
to the top."

"Good!" encouraged Hazard. "You lie in the crevice this time, and I'll
show you how easy it is."