“Only middling! It’s getting worse and worse every second,” replied the one who was hanging on so desperately below, some ten feet or more. “You see, I haven’t got much of a hold, and I don’t dare try and change my grip because if I once started going there’d be no stopping me. Is Donald coming back yet, Ad, tell me please?” “I don’t think he’s quite got to the horses yet, Billie!” “Oh! my goodness! what will I do?” groaned the wretched lad, as he once more felt his gaze drawn down to the bottom of the pit by some horrible fascination which he could not resist. “Keep up your courage, old fellow,” said Adrian, feeling that at any cost he must prevent the other from giving way to despair, for that would surely cause his muscles to relax, and should this occur the end was certain. “See, I’ve got a vine here, and I’m lowering the big end to you as fast as I can. Perhaps now you might get a grip on that, if you felt your hands slipping away from the rock. It’s got a rough surface, and would hold better!” “Thank you, Adrian, that sounds good to me; but hurry it along, please, for I’m afraid I’m slipping off right now!” So the one above did hasten the descent of the vine; and in another moment he was gratified to realize that Billie had transferred his grip to that. The strain was tremendous, for Billie weighed almost as much as both his chums put together; but Adrian had prepared for this by bracing his feet against a rock, so there was small danger of his being pulled over the edge. He could not begin to raise Billie alone and unaided, but he expected to hold fast until the coming of Donald. Then again, Billie, having a new kind of grip now, was able to strain and draw until he had elevated himself a few feet, so that he could get a rest with his toes upon the very small ledge to which he had hitherto been clinging with his hands. “It’s all right now, Adrian!” he sang out with sudden cheerfulness that contrasted queerly with the horror that had been in his voice only a minute previously; “I’m fixed different than before, and I reckon I can hold out till Donald comes up. Oh! you can keep on shakin’ your old rattleboxes down there; but this ain’t the time you get Broncho Billie. But I tell you now, that was the closest shave I ever had happen to me, sure it was.” Donald soon came panting along, full of dire forebodings, because it had taken him considerably longer to go and return than he had expected; and there was no telling what might not have happened to poor, tired Billie in the meantime. But as he had heard no shouts from Adrian, he kept hoping for the best. When he saw how cleverly his chum had made use of the trailing vine that had seemed to grow just where it could be utilized, as though Billie’s attendant good angel was as always on the job, Donald gave a faint cheer.