Moving nearer and nearer toward the mound under the tree, their cries told Westy that the search was at an end. He did not wait to see the culmination of their discovery, he glanced back only long enough to make sure they would have a long and difficult struggle to get the pile of rocks and dirt from off the uncovered wing. Stopping long enough to wrap his scarf tightly around his hand and stem the flow of blood, Westy ran on down to the lake and continued so on up the other side to Artie’s rescue. Darkness had almost enveloped the hollow when Westy gained the precipice. Placing the lantern in such a position that he could see, he leaned over and in an inarticulate voice called Artie’s name. There was no answer. CHAPTER XXXII—THE BOND IS SEALED The perspiration stood out like little particles of frost on Westy’s forehead. “What,” he asked himself, “has happened?” Had Fate inevitably overtaken Artie after all? He couldn’t and just wouldn’t believe it! So raising the lantern above his head he swung it over the hollow that it might penetrate every niche of it. Then peering eagerly, he caught sight of a foot sticking out from under the projecting rock. His heart felt as if it had dropped a couple of inches, for the fact that Artie was lying there prostrate was perfectly evident. Tying the rope around the lantern as best he could, considering that his maimed hand was little or no use, he lowered it carefully into the hollow. A sound emanated from below, and to Westy, who was expecting the worst, it sounded like some one groaning. “Whassa matter?” the voice said in guttural tones. “Haven’t you got any sense? Letting the sun shine in my face like that, huh? Lot of feeling you got for a guy, I’ll tell the world!” “The Lord have mercy on us,” reverently exclaimed Westy, “he’s delirious!” “Delirious, my eyebrow!” the voice, now assuredly Artie’s, replied. “M’gosh, zat you, Wes?” “Bet your life!” answered Westy, with a heartfelt sigh of deep relief. Then: “How do you feel, Art? Think you can stand being hoisted up now?” “Say now!” replied Artie, gazing gratefully up at Westy’s worried countenance. “How do you get that way? Can I stand it? Well, I guess!” “All right then,” Westy murmured dubiously, “you better keep the lantern, Art, and tie the rope around your waist. I’ve got the other end O.K. Think you can manage to tie it?” “Tie it?” Artie couldn’t seem to comprehend. “Yes,” said Westy and then with hesitancy, “Will you be able to, I mean!” “Well,” exclaimed Artie, “I’ll be blistered! Whatcha think I am, Wes, a cripple?” “You can bet I don’t think any such thing when you can talk that way.” “That’s better, Wes; but say, where are my enemies?” “The eagles?” “Sure! What a foolish thing to ask. Who else would I be inquiring about so solicitously?”