Teddy put up his hands to ward off that hurtling body, and at that moment two sharp cracks came to his ears. He saw the lion’s body twitch. Automatically he dodged, and the beast struck his shoulder, dashing the boy to the ground. There was another crack, then another. Teddy rose dazedly to his feet. He looked down. On the rocky floor lay the lion--quivering, but stone dead. From above there came a cry. “We got him, Dad! Yay, Teddy! Are you all right? Teddy!” Putting his hand to his head, the boy glanced up. What he saw caused quick tears of emotion to come to his eyes. Staring down at him, their faces alight with eagerness, stood his father and Roy. “Dad! Roy!” Teddy cried weakly. He staggered to the wall and leaned against it. There was a lump in his throat that choked him, and try as he did, he could not keep the tears from starting to his eyes. This would never do. What would they think of him? He shook his head savagely and sunk his teeth into his lower lip. There, that helped! He looked up again. “You sure timed your entrance,” he called, grinning bravely. “Quite a show!” “Teddy, are you all right?” Mr. Manley shouted. “Sure! Come on down. The water’s fine.” His head was spinning around, and the red rim of the sun was stretched into a long line of fire across the sky. To his surprise, the boy suddenly found himself sitting down. He laughed at the absurdity of this change, but it was a weak laugh. Above him, Roy and Mr. Manley had seen the boy sway back and forth for a moment, then fall to the ground. Swiftly Mr. Manley ran back to where his pony was standing and detached a rope which hung from the saddle horn. He tied one end around a tree, and dangling the other end over the edge, he slid down, careless of the blistering burns the strands inflicted on the palms of his hands. The moment he hit bottom he ran to his son. “Teddy! Teddy boy!” he stammered. “That was a close one! If Roy and I had missed--” He hunched down and threw one arm about his son’s shoulders. Even Mr. Manley’s eyes were not quite dry. He had just seen his son escape from a horrible death. “All right, Dad. I’m O. K. now,” Teddy said, resting one hand over his father’s as it lay on his shoulder. “I’ll give you and Roy the prize for marksmanship. You sure clipped the beast good!” “Hey, Dad, I’m coming down!” Roy yelled from above. “Is Teddy hurt?” “No!” Mr. Manley answered. “He’s not! You stay up there, Roy. Wait for the rest! Yell at ’em!” “I can get up now,” Teddy declared. To prove it he struggled to his feet, and promptly sat down again. “Golly, my legs are made of India-rubber!” he said, grinning. “What do you know about that, Dad? Funny, hey?” “Sure,” Mr. Manley assented, smiling broadly now. He knew from the change in Teddy’s voice that the boy was gaining control of his nerves and would soon be himself again. “Just take it easy, son. Here!” he ran to the spring and dipped his hat in the water. “Drink this. Slow!”