Claude was shivering as though he would shake to pieces.  He had received a dreadful fright, for a fact, and it was having its due effect upon his never strong frame.  What would his doting mamma think, and say, Hugh told himself, almost with a chuckle of amusement, could she see her darling then and there, and realize how his very life depended upon the strong muscles and will to do things that Hugh Morgan had developed in himself?

How slowly the seconds passed!  Hugh was trying to count, so as to judge when the Marathon runner would be likely to have covered that half-mile, and be at the spot where he, Hugh, had left the road.

When, finally, the time had expired he again spoke to Claude.

“Don’t be startled, Claude, because I’m going to shout out.  Hang tight, now!”

With that he sent out a whoop, and coupled it with the name of “Just” Smith.  There was no immediate response, but then Hugh had already discounted this in his mind, remembering how he also had come to a sudden stop, and listened as though unable to believe his ears.

Again he shouted, and once more uttered the name of the other boy.  This time there came a speedy reply.

“Hello! that you, Hugh?”

“Yes, and I want help right away!” answered the boy who clung there with a burden on his hands.  “Turn out of the road to the left, and hurry here.  I’m down a precipice, Just.  Keep coming, and I’ll guide you all right.”

So Hugh continued to utter loud shouts every ten seconds or so.  He could catch the calls of the advancing runner, and knew from their increasing loudness that he was gradually getting closer.

Then, looking up, he saw a head projected over the brink above.  He could easily understand how “Just” Smith’s eyes must have almost started from their sockets when discovering the dreadful position of the pair below; and especially after he recognized Claude Jardin the last fellow in the wide world whom he would have expected to see in such a fix.

“H-h-how in the wide world did you get down there, Hugh?” gasped the boy who leaned over the brink.

“I came down after Claude here, who’d fallen over, and was hanging to a bush that was giving way,” explained Hugh.  “And now it’s up to you to get us both out of this scrape, Just.”

“Oh, if only I had a rope!” cried the other, apparently nonplussed.

“Well, wishes won’t make one,” said the practical Hugh; “and so we’ll have to do without.  But if you look around sharply I think you’ll find a long pole there, for I remember noticing something of the kind.”

The boy above vanished for a brief period, which seemed ages to the anxious Claude; and even Hugh counted the seconds, for the strain was something serious.  Then again that friendly head appeared in view.

“You were right, Hugh!” called the Smith boy; “there was such a pole handy, and I’ve got the same right here now.  It’s plenty long enough to reach down to you; but I’m wondering however I’ll be able to draw two of you up.”