“Glory! That shook me up!” Sam confessed. “’Twouldn’t be a good thing for a fellow to be out here alone and get hurt, eh?” “No,” said Orkney. “But, pulling together, we’ll pull through!” cried Sam, and clapped him on the shoulder. They went on, but only to share a mishap. The snow had bridged a brook running down to the Fork; and the arch caved under them. Down they went to their armpits in the snow. They scrambled out of the hole uninjured but breathless. “We--we’ll look out for those places,” Sam panted; but in spite of their watchfulness he soon was caught in a worse trap. Another gully--and deeper--lay beneath a smooth surface. Sam, being slightly in the lead, vanished almost at the feet of the astonished Orkney, who dropped to his knees, groped in what was like a white whirlpool, and was lucky enough to lay hold of Sam’s collar. Then, by dint of much tugging and hauling, aided from below by the victim of the accident, he at last succeeded in rescuing his companion from the depths. This time both boys were glad to lie on the drift for a time, while they were regaining wind and strength. Sam was the first to speak. “Good turn you did me then. Regular cavern down there. Rather think there was water at the bottom of it.” “Might be,” said Orkney. “Maybe rapids in the brook--they don’t freeze up often.” Sam gave his companion a friendly dig in the ribs. “Guess that came near evening up a little thing I did for you once--that pond business.” “Nonsense!” said Orkney gruffly. “Come on! Let’s move!” He got upon his feet, and Sam followed the example. “Right! Mustn’t let ’em get tired waiting back at Calleck’s old house. Wonder what they’re doing now.” “Envying me the chance you gave me!” said Orkney sharply; and plowed ahead without waiting for a reply. Sam trudged after him. No doubt Orkney had spoken no more than the truth. The members of the club, tarrying with Lon and Peter Groche, would envy the adventurers. Some of them, Sam feared, might find it hard to forgive the preference he had shown Orkney; but he did not repent his choice. Physically, neither Poke nor the Shark was fit for such a forced march; Step was not a powerful fellow; Herman Boyd and the Trojan were sturdy chaps, with plenty of grit, but somewhat dependent upon good leadership. Orkney, on the other hand, not only had dogged resolution and persistence, but also worked well in “double harness,” as Sam phrased it. He was as far from yielding too much as from claiming too much. Though he might lack certain agreeable qualities, he was showing sound mettle under strain.