"At any rate the
time has come when I need both hands." And he let it slide past him
and sought to watch it as it clattered along the incline. But he saw
nothing of it in the dim passage until it struck the fringe of bushes.
Then it crashed through and was gone--without telling him how and
where! The bag, a knot tied in it, he sent down after the gun.
His misgivings were considerable but he went on. He called out to
Betty: "It looks all right. Hold on till I call," and began inching
downward again. With his feet he sought to judge the slope below him.
It seemed to be growing steeper. Still he went on and down. He caught
at any unevenness in the rock he could lay hand upon, lowering himself
to the length of his arm, groping for handhold and foothold everywhere.
Then a handhold to which he had entrusted his weight betrayed him, the
tiny sliver of stone scaled off and he began to slip. He clutched
wildly but his body gained fresh momentum. He heard Betty shriek above
him. He had a vision of himself plunging down the cliffs. Then he
knew that he had struck the bushes, had broken through, was rolling
down a steep slope, rolling and rolling.
The breath jolted out of him, he was brought up with a jerk in another
clump of bushes, wild sage in a little level space. He hastily jumped
up and began to scramble back up toward the tunnel's mouth. He could
not see it from below, he could see only the patch of brush which,
since it was directly above him, must conceal it.
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