It is the memory of a face that decides him. _She_ is there! He has found her at last, and under most remarkable circumstances--Dorothy, the speculator’s daughter, heroine of the strange story he has just heard. Louder rise the screams above; in imagination he can see her in danger at the hands of a madman. The strain is too much; he flings off his coat with a quick movement. “What would you do?” cries the other, leaping toward the Canadian. “Change cars,” is the cool response thrown in his face, as the athlete springs upon the great iron framework and begins to mount upward. “Come back! it is too late, man. Good Heavens! the wheel begins to move. Come back!” shouts Claude, thrilled with the sight. But it is as easy to go forward as to return, and with hands of steel clutching the rim of the throbbing wheel, Aleck Craig climbs upward to meet his fate in mid air. CHAPTER IV. BRAVO, CANUCK! To falter, to lose his grasp upon the cold iron of the immense wheel means instantaneous death, since he is now high above the battlements of the Midway, whose loftiest structure does not dare to mount on a level with the monster shaft of the Ferris wheel. Craig is a thorough athlete, his muscles trained by a generous indulgence in the manly sports for which fair Montreal is noted. With only an Indian hunter as a companion he has crossed mountains of snow and rivers of ice on snowshoes, in search of the great moose, or the caribou of Newfoundland. As a skater he has held a championship medal several seasons. Modest in his manner, he makes no boast of these things, but those who know him understand the power of that well-knit frame. It may be safely said that never before in all his life has Aleck Craig experienced such a queer sensation as when halfway between the two cars, and clinging to the iron framework he feels a throbbing sensation that tells him the giant wheel is again in motion. Above, below, around him is space; his only hold upon the cumbersome iron band so icy cold. Hushed are the myriad sounds from the festive Midway now, so far as his ear is concerned; he only hears the steady clamp--clamp of the revolving wheel, and the shrieks of feminine terror that continue to come from the car just above. Not one instant does he allow the thought of personal danger to handicap his efforts. He has started in this desperate game and must see it through to the end. Not that he expects any glory to descend upon his head on account of what he may do. Wycherley has confessed to a fear lest the professor actually does an injury to one or more of the ladies in the car, and it is this that has urged the Canadian to undertake this terrible risk. The days of chivalry are not entirely gone, even though we live in the matter-of-fact, prosaic nineteenth century. In one way Craig’s task is not so difficult--he finds a means of holding on with hands and knees, for there are protuberances upon the wheel which he is quick to utilize.