if you can't, then hang on the fence! DON'T let go the fence!" Then
there was silence. Long after, Mary Bell began to cry, and said
softly, "God, God, you know I could do this if I weren't carrying
Billy." After that it was all a troubled dream.

She dreamed that Davy suddenly said, "I can see the fire!" and that,
as she did not stir, he cried it again, this time not so near. She
dreamed that the sound of splashing boots and shouting came down
across the dark water, and that lights smote her eyelids with sharp
pain. An overwhelming dread of effort swept over her. She did not
want to move her aching body, to raise her heavy head. Somebody's
arm braced her shoulders; she toppled against it.

She dreamed that Jim Carr's voice said, "Take the kid, Sing! He's
all right!" and that Jim Carr lifted her up, and shouted out, "She's
almost gone!"

Then some one was carrying her across rough ground, across smooth
ground, to where there was a fire, and blankets, and voices--voices-
-voices.

"It makes me choke!" That was Mary Bell Barber, whispering to Jim
Carr. But she could not open her eyes.

"But drink it, dearest! Swallow it!" he pleaded.

"You were too late, Jim, we couldn't hold on!" she whispered
pitifully. And then, as the warmth and the stimulant had their
effect, she did open her eyes; and the fire, the ring of faces, the
black sky, and the moon breaking through, all slipped into place.