be drawn over!" cried a voice, pointed,
vigorous.

Pem knew that it was the fiery voice of the
nickum, the broad-shouldered youth, who
had sat in the chair before her, whose
crowing had been responsible for her feat.

Her colorless face was turned upward
then and she had seen him push up the
lower folds of his sweater with his left
hand--even while its elbow sent the
chauffeur back--and while his right,
lightning-like, uncoiled a rope, a lariat,
worn under it around his waist.

It was then that he shouted to her to
"keep cool"; and that she, turning her
head aside against the rock, became a
living effigy of the Thunder Bird.

Not waiting to make the rope fast around
his own body--or his body fast to it--he
slid down.

The next moment he was standing beside
her in the chair.

"Ha! So the 'pep' was in the wrong
box that time," he said coolly.

[[88]]

p087 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p088w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p089

v?