MOUNTAIN OF DISTRESS

“He’s killed! He’s killed!” wailed Emma.

“Do something! Hippy, why don’t you do something?” urged Nora hysterically.

“If you will tell me what to do I’ll try. Stacy is probably done for. No one could take that drop and live,” answered Lieutenant Wingate.

“We must make an effort, Hip,” answered Tom.

“I trust to Stacy’s luck to get him through, but please make haste,” begged Grace.

“How?” demanded Tom.

“Climb down the way we came up. In that way we shall be able to see what lies beyond the slope on which he slid down,” suggested Grace Harlowe.

The Overlanders moved with one accord, sliding and stumbling over their trail as they descended, keeping their gaze to the right of them in hope of seeing Stacy. The fat boy, however, was not yet within view, and they looked aghast at the side of the mountain down which he had fallen.

“You see,” said Tom, nodding to Grace. “No hope at all.”

“I don’t agree with you. Hark!” Grace held up a warning hand.

“I hear it! It’s Stacy! It’s Stacy!” yelled Lieutenant Wingate. “Where are you?”

They caught the fat boy’s reply, but failed to understand what he said. That did not matter. The great truth was that he was still alive.

“Where are you?” roared Hippy.

The reply was a long-drawn-out howl.

“He is somewhere below us,” announced Tom. “Let us get further down. His being alive passes all comprehension.”

The Overlanders climbed down over the rocks, making all haste, all watching eagerly for a sight of the unfortunate Stacy. Now and then one of them would shout, and the answer that came back each time seemed nearer than before. At last Stacy’s voice sounded directly to the right of them. Grace focused her binoculars on a ribbon of green bushes in a crevice in the rocks below.

“I see him!” she cried. “He is just beyond the middle of those bushes.”

“Are you hurt?” called Tom Gray.

“I—I’m killed,” wailed the fat boy. “Get me out of this.”

“How long can you hold on?” demanded Elfreda.

“Until the bushes give way. Roots are loose now,” wailed Stacy. “You’ll have to hurry.”

“Get the ropes,” urged Grace.

“We can’t reach him with a rope from here,” answered Tom.

“Oh, Hippy, what can we do?” moaned Nora. “If he lets go he will be dashed to death.” Elfreda, who had been calmly surveying the scene, recommended that they all return to the point from which Stacy fell, and descend the slope on the other side.

“I think that, if we can get down on that side, we shall be near enough to be able to cast a rope to him,” she said.

The two men agreed with her, and, after telling Stacy what they proposed to do, all hands began clambering up the mountain again. Reaching their former position, it was seen that the route they had planned to follow to reach Stacy would be perilous. Tom said the girls must remain where they were while he and Hippy made the descent.

The Overlanders had two ropes, Grace’s lariat, and a small Manila rope that they always carried on their mountain climbs. These ropes Tom and Hippy took with them and began cautiously picking their way down the rocks on the right-hand side of the slope. It took them nearly an hour to reach a point opposite the boy.

“Are you there, Chunky?” shouted Tom.

“Part of me is. The rest is dangling. If you don’t hurry I’ll soon be a hamburger steak at the base of the mountain.”

“Hold up your hand so we may see where you are,” directed Tom.

Stacy thrust a cautious hand from the bushes, then as cautiously withdrew it, but the two Overlanders saw it.

“Listen, boy!” called Tom. “We are going to try to cast a rope to you, but do not make a quick move in grabbing it. Once you have the rope in your hands, pass it about your body under the arms and tie it securely; then, when we give the word, let go of your support. We will do the rest. Understand?”

“Yes.”

Tom made a cast, but the rope fell far short of the mark. He made several other attempts, failing each time.

“Let me try it,” requested Lieutenant Wingate. Before casting. Hippy tied a small stone to the end of the rope, then swinging six feet or so of the rope in the air, he let go. The stone plunked into the bushes.

A mighty howl from Stacy greeted the throw. The stone had hit the fat boy a glancing blow.

“I’m killed!” yelled Stacy. “You hit me.”

“Grab it!” shouted Tom. “Make fast and do it right. You aren’t much hurt or you couldn’t yell like that. Let us know when you are ready.”

Several moments elapsed before Stacy announced that he had fastened the rope about him as directed. Having to work with one hand, while he clung to his supports with the other, made slow work for the boy.

“If you are positive that you are well tied up, let go and don’t be frightened if you slide a little. We shan’t let you go far,” encouraged Hippy as Tom took hold of the rope with him.

“Let go!” ordered Tom Gray.

There followed a moment of hesitation, then a violent tug on the rope, accompanied by a howl from Stacy Brown as he released his hold on the bushes, and felt himself sliding down the mountain-side. He was brought up with a jolt, and skidded dizzily sideways as the rope grew taut.

“Let go! You’re taking the breath out of me!” he begged in a gasping yell. Stacy had tied a slip-knot which now held him in a vise-like grip.

“Take hold of the rope with both hands and pull. That will relieve the strain,” advised Tom. “We will have you up here in a few moments.”

It was a bruised and battered Overland Rider that Tom and Hippy dragged up a few minutes later, Stacy Brown gasping and moaning.

“Stop it!” commanded Tom sternly. “You should be thankful that you are alive.”

“I’m not alive. I’m dead from the neck down,” protested Stacy.

After the boy had been permitted to rest for a short time, the two started up the mountain-side with him. They made him walk, but assisted him most of the way.

Chunky met an enthusiastic welcome when he reached the girls. They made him comfortable on blankets while the party consulted as to what should be done, for night was rapidly approaching.

“Shall we go on to the top?” asked Elfreda who had been examining Stacy. “Our patient is perfectly able to travel.”

“No!” replied Tom Gray with emphasis. “Personally, I have had enough.”

Grace expressed some disappointment, but said she would defer to the decision of the others.

“I am for going down instead of up,” spoke up Emma. “Of course I am not afraid, but I fear Chunky will surely get himself and us into more difficulties. The poor child has had enough for one day.”

Emma’s companions agreed with her, but Stacy did not. He said that timid girls like Emma might be afraid to climb to the top of Electric Peak, but that men felt no such fears.

“Of course you do not include yourself in that group,” answered Emma without even looking towards Stacy. “A little more electrifying might do you good.”

“I’ve got too much electricity already. I’m full of it,” averred Stacy, sitting up. “When I get back to Chillicothe, Missouri, I’m going to rent myself out to the traction company to furnish power for the street cars, I am.”

“Don’t do it,” begged Emma. “You surely would fall off your trolley so often that the line would be perpetually blocked.”

Groans greeted Emma’s retort.

“I am amazed at you, Emma,” reproved Grace.

“And I blush for you,” added J. Elfreda Briggs.

“Blush for Chunky. He cannot do it for himself,” retorted Emma. “What are we to do—go up or down or remain where we are?”

Grace suggested that they descend and spend the night where they had camped the previous might.

“What! Get caught between a couple of sizzlers as we did last night?” demanded Chunky.

“We will go down. It really is not prudent to remain here,” replied Tom.

“Yes. Chunky has accumulated so much electricity that we Overlanders are in danger of being struck by lightning most any time now,” averred Emma.

“Pack up and get going,” urged Lieutenant Wingate.

A few moments later the party was picking its way down the mountain-side. The nerves of each member of the Overland outfit were on edge, and Stacy Brown was nursing the many bruises that he had sustained in his tumble. Going down, while not such hard work, was attended with much more difficulty than had been the ascent. Now and then someone would lose his foothold and have a tumble. Fortunately, nothing worse than a few bruises and black and blue spots resulted from these tumbles. The Overlanders laughed at their mishaps, especially at the fat boy’s, for Stacy got more falls than any of the others and his clothes suffered proportionately.

Darkness overtook the Overland party ere they could locate their camp where Badger was awaiting them, so they decided to make camp where they were. A small cooking fire was built and dinner cooked; then, being thoroughly worn out from their trying experiences, they rolled up in their blankets on the ground and went to sleep, not to awaken until the sun blazed down into their faces next morning. An early start for camp was made, but as they progressed and failed to discover it, they began to wonder that they saw no smoke signals from Jim Badger. About mid-afternoon, however, a thin spiral of white smoke was discovered some distance to the right of them.

“There’s the place,” announced Tom.

Hippy was of the opinion that it was not their camp.

“Of course it is,” answered Grace. “We are a long way out of our course, and we don’t know the trail at all, so watch your step, folks.”

Thus warned, the Overland Riders exercised more care. Fortunately, none got bad falls, but the going was difficult, and they were frequently obliged to rest. It was a weary and much mussed-up party that dragged itself into camp, shouting halloos to warn the guide of their approach.

“I’m starved! Got anything loose about this camp?” cried Chunky, as the weary girls threw themselves down uttering sighs of relief.

“Water’s boilin’. It’s been boilin’ since yesterday. I’ll have coffee for you right smart. Where you folks been all the time?”

“We’ve been up in Nature’s electric plant. Hurry if you expect to save my life. I’m near dead. Even my brain has ceased to operate,” declared Stacy.

“He has just discovered it,” murmured Emma wearily. “The poor child!”

“What happened?” questioned Badger, frying-pan in hand.

“Not a word until I get something inside of me,” insisted the fat boy. “What I need most of all is—”

“Have you any calves’ brains, Mr. Badger?” questioned Emma sweetly.

“Now, Emma! That wasn’t nice of you,” protested Nora, amid laughter.

“If you are in such haste why not turn to and help Jim get luncheon?” suggested Grace.

“I tell you I have a weak heart. You know I can’t stand violent exercise,” replied Stacy, throwing himself down by the campfire.

The Overlanders shook their heads.

“Hopeless!” muttered Tom.

“We propose to move immediately,” Grace informed the guide. “Is there any news?”

“Yes, I reckon there is,” answered the guide rather hesitatingly, Grace thought. “Two fellers has been watchin’ this camp since yesterday, and I reckon they ain’t doin’ it for any good. That ain’t all, either. There’s more news. There’s been another robbery down to the Springs Hotel, and mebby they think we did it.”