Some object caught his eye--it looked a bit like a coiled snake of tremendous proportions, lying there almost on the edge of the abrupt descent. Then Frank realized that it was a coiled rope. Lanky himself had undoubtedly fetched it from the temporary camp, under the impression that he could find a good use for such a thing, if only he should run across his missing chum. As a plan flashed into his active mind Frank snatched up the strong rope, leaned over, and managed to get its end around Lanky's ankle. As speedily as he could he fastened it securely. "Listen, Lanky!" he cried out. "I've got the rope fixed so I can lower you down to the ground, once I've cut that vine apart. Here goes, then!" First Frank took a single hitch of the rope around a small sapling that chanced to be within reach, a most fortunate thing. This he did so it would be doubly easy and safe to lower a heavy weight, without risking being pulled over the edge himself. Then out came his knife. How glad he was he had always made it a point to keep a razor-like edge on his handy blade. Two, three slashes were all that was required, when the tough vine parted and, by easy little jerks, Lanky commenced to go down toward the rocks below. No sooner did Frank see that his chum had landed than he fastened the rope in a knot, swung himself over the edge and slid down as if he clasped a greased pole, in the customary doing at the annual Harvest Home fair at Columbia. Lanky was groaning and moving a little, as Frank knelt down beside him. When he drew the other's coat away from his face Frank was alarmed to discover how black Lanky looked. Evidently a short time longer of that hanging must have quite finished him. Hearing water gurgling close by, Frank hastened to the small rivulet that came leaping and bubbling down from the snow-clad heights above. He filled Lanky's hat--his own had gone down with that raging torrent--and was speedily back at the other's side. First of all he made Lanky drink a little of the icy water. Next he bathed the flushed and discolored face with some of the same fluid. The result was gratifying, for by slow degrees that dreadful, purple hue faded from Lanky's features, and he even smiled wanly, his eyes kindling with the awakening joy he felt at once more seeing his best chum bending over him. "We thought--you must have gone,--Frank!" he managed to say, trying to lift his hand, which Frank had been patting affectionately. "Well, I had the closest shave of my whole life," replied the other, wincing at the vivid recollection of that never-to-be-forgotten experience. "But you'll hear all about it later on, Lanky; also how I've been keeping a lively pack of gray wolves at bay for several hours by throwing burning brands from my fire at them as they hovered around."