Van's heart turned over in his breast.

"Just below that split boulder in the trail," he answered cheerily.
"Go to that."

A silence succeeded, then he heard, in tremulous accents:

"I'm here--but how am I going to tie the rope?"

Van answered distinctly, for much depended on precision.

"Uncoil it first. On one end there's an eye that runs the loop. Open
the loop to a pretty good size and slip it over the smaller portion of
the boulder. Then push it well down in the crevice, and pull it tight."

He knew that the rope was far too short to loop the larger rock and
reach his hands. He waited while he thought she might be working--as
indeed she was--and presently added: "Got that done?"

"Yes," she called. "Yes--but are you sure----"

His hold was giving way. He answered crisply:

"Now drop me the end. Don't wait!"

[Illustration: His hold was giving way.]

Beth had forgotten all danger to herself. She had ceased to tremble.
She paid out the rope with commendable promptness.