Hugh was as nimble as any boy in Scranton, which fact proved of great advantage to him just then.  Had it been otherwise, he might have himself fallen, and there would then have been a double tragedy.

Somehow, through Hugh’s mind flashed the memory of how Claude’s doting mother had always, on every occasion, condemned all athletic exercises that were intended to build up the muscles, and give new power to the body.  It seemed the irony of fate that the life of her precious boy was now going to hang upon the ability of Hugh Morgan to sustain himself, and the weight of another, there upon the face of that rocky precipice!

Perhaps in times to come Mrs. Jardine would discover how false her ideas were, and experience a radical change of heart.  The opportunity which Hugh had once sighed for had come to him in a most wonderful way.

He succeeded in making his way down in safety, though once he slipped, and had a thrill of alarm pass over him.  Now he found himself alongside Claude.  The boy’s face was the color of ashes;

Hugh had never looked upon a corpse in all his life, but he could not help comparing Claude’s pallid countenance to one.

He was glancing around with the eye of a general who lets nothing, no matter how trivial, escape him.  Just a foot below Claude’s dangling toes there was a narrow ledge.  If only both of them could find lodgment upon this, and have some hold above for their hands, they might maintain their position until Hugh’s shouts attracted “Just” Smith to the spot, and he could do something to aid them.

“Listen, Claude,” he said earnestly.  “There’s a way to save you, if only you keep your head about you.  ‘Just’ Smith is coming along the road, and I’ll shout out to guide him here so he can help us.”

“But—–­the bush is going to give way right off!” gasped the terrified boy.

“Well, below us there’s a ledge where we must plant our feet, and hold on,” continued Hugh, convincingly.  “I’m going to drop down to it now.  Then you must try to lower yourself along the bush, inch by inch, until you feel the ledge under you.  Don’t be afraid, because I mean to grab hold of you; but when you feel me touching you, above all things don’t let go above, or you’ll throw us both down.  Now, be ready, Claude; and, remember, it’s going to be all right.  Keep cool!”

Of course, Hugh only said that last to reassure the poor chap.  Claude was already cold with as cold as an icicle, in fact; and quaking with fear in the bargain.

It was easy enough for Hugh to drop down another foot or so, until he felt the solid little ledge under him.  Indeed, had it been necessary, such an agile fellow very likely might have continued all the way down to the base of the precipice.

His next move was to find a firm hold for his left hand, to which he could continue to cling while he sustained much of the weight of the other boy, after the weakened roots of the bush gave way entirely.