"Gentleman," the sheriff addressed the exclaiming crowd, "you heard tell what the little lady had to say about her husband and this Lafe Ashton going down into Deep Canyon, where no man ever went before. Now Miss Chuckie has told us again how Ashton climbed up here, where no man in this section had a notion anything short of a mountain sheep could climb. Well, what does the gritty kid do but turn round and climb down again--in the dark, mind you! They're down there now, both of them--down in the bottom of Deep Canyon. We called them tenderfeet, that day when Mr. Blake honored our county seat by sidetracking his palatial car. Boys, down there in that hole are the two nerviest men I ever heard tell about. One of 'em has a broken leg. The other has broke the trail for us. I ask for volunteers to go down with me and yank 'em up out of there. Gentlemen, who offers?" Instantly the crowd surged forward. Every man shouted, whooped, struggled to thrust himself ahead of the others and force the acceptance of his services on the sheriff. "Hold on, boys!" he remonstrated. "Just hold your hawsses. I didn't ask for a stampede. You can't all go down. Last man over might get in a hurry to catch the first, and start a manslide." "I vote we set a thirty-year limit," put in one of the younger punchers. This raised a clamor of dissent from the older men. "Tell you what," shouted another. "Let Miss Chuckie cut out the lucky ones." "That's the ticket--Now you're talking!" Every man shouted approval, and fell silent as Isobel sprang up from beside Genevieve. "Friends!" she exclaimed, her eyes radiant, "it's such times as these that makes life grand! I believe six of you would be enough, but I'll make it ten. First, I'm going to bar everyone who has a wife or children." "That doesn't include me, honey," hastily protested her father. "Then you come in the next--none over thirty-five nor under twenty." A groan arose from some of the youngsters, but the older men took their disappointment in stolid silence. She went on with calm decisiveness: "Now those of you that have done any considerable mountain climbing afoot this summer, please step this way." Two members of a recently disbanded surveying party, four punchers who had tried their luck at prospecting on the snowy range, and three wild horse hunters sprang forward in response to the request. "That's enough," said the sheriff. "I've got to own up to being forty. But I'm leading this here posse, and I'll eat my hat if I can't outclimb anything on two legs in this county. String out your ropes, boys, and pass over all them picket-pins. We'll need a purchase now and again, I figure, hauling up Mr. Blake. Hustle! Here's the sun clean up."