It sounded more like the voice of a girl than anything else.  Hugh was thrilled at the bare thought of one of the opposite sex being caught in a trap whereby life itself was imperiled.

He had been ascending all this time.  From a single look, which he cast over his shoulder, he could see the road he had lately come along, trace its course, in fact, until it was lost at a bend half a mile away.

He noted that a runner had just turned that same bend, and was jogging along in a rhythmic, contented fashion, as though satisfied with the progress he was making; although “Just” Smith would have to speed up considerable on the morrow if he wished to be anywhere near the head of the procession when the race neared its close.  Hugh, somehow, fixed the fact of his comrade’s presence on his mind.  He even mentally figured just how long it was likely to take the other to reach the spot where he himself had left the road; for, perhaps, that circumstance might loom up large in his calculations.

Then he arrived at the brink of what seemed to be a precipice.  The presence of this told Hugh plainly the nature of the task that awaited him.  Someone had undoubtedly fallen over the brink, and was, even then, hanging on desperately to some jutting rock or bush that represented the only hope of safety from a serious fall.  He threw himself down and thrust his head out over the edge.  What Hugh saw was enough to give any boy a thrill of horror.  Some ten feet below the top a human figure sprawled, kicking with his legs in the endeavor to find a brace for his feet.  He was clinging to a bush that seemed to be growing from the face of the precipice, and which Hugh could see was slowly but surely giving way, one root after another losing its grip in the soil and rocky crevices.

Hugh recognized the imperiled boy instantly, though utterly amazed at his discovery; he could not understand for the life of him how Claude Jardine, of all fellows in Scranton, could be placed in such a dreadful predicament.

But Hugh did not waste a single precious second in trying to solve that puzzle; it could be all made plain after he had managed to save the poor chap.

“Stop kicking, and keep perfectly still, Claude!” he instantly called.

“But it’s going to give way, and let me drop!” wailed the terrified boy.

“It’ll do that all the sooner if you keep moving as you are,” Hugh told him sharply, with the tone of authority that one accustomed to command might use.  “I’m coming down after you, so don’t be afraid.  Can you hold on just ten seconds more?”

“I’ll try to, but, oh! hurry, please!” came the trembling answer.

Already Hugh was passing over the edge.  He took care not to make a false movement, for the precipice was all of forty feet in depth, and a fall on the rocks below was bound to be a serious matter.

To lower himself to where the imperiled boy clung he had to take advantage of numerous projecting points of rock that offered him a foothold, or a place where he could hang on with his hands.  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.