“I don’t like to hurry you, Art, but we can’t spare any more time gossiping like a couple of old ladies over a clothesline. Our friends won’t be much longer in digging out their progeny. Not only that but it’s imperative we get back to Uncle Jeb as quick as possible, if you feel up to it!” There were many questions and remarks that Artie would have liked to voice at that moment, but he realized that the seriousness of Westy’s tone forbade it. He told him to go ahead and tie the rope to the tree and when he felt the tug he’d start. It was like witnessing some one arising from the dead for Westy to see the familiar form of his friend come safely over the edge of the precipice. There was joy ringing in his soul and tears in his eyes, when he saw him get to his feet and untie the rope from around his waist. Westy rushed forward and put both his hands on Artie’s shoulders. “Gee, Art!” he said chokingly, “able to stand all right and all, huh?” “Sure,” Artie answered with a catch in his voice, affected by Westy’s emotion, and then to cheer him: “I’m standing all right, but I suppose I’ll feel like a pretzel for the next few days, until I get the kinks out from sitting down all wound around myself.” “Same ol’ Artie! Then you weren’t hurt at all?” “Hurt? When?” “When I first called you.” “Search me! I didn’t know you were there until the lantern awakened me and you said something about me being delirious.” “Awakened you? Then----” “Sure. I must have fallen asleep. I don’t remember anything after I saw those enlarged screech owls fly away. No doubt their departure affected me to the point of exhaustion.” “Well, I’ll be darned!” was all Westy could say. “You’ve an eye for slumber, I’ll say that. Come on now, old boy, we have something to do before the night is over, I’m afraid. Will you take these things from me now? Then I can walk faster.” When Westy explained to him all that had occurred since he left the lake in the afternoon, he skipped lightly over the cause of his wounded hand. That he was in pain from it, Artie could almost feel in the darkness. “And to think that you did all that for me, Wes!” he said, intense feeling in his words. “You’re the best scout that ever lived!” They had left the lake and were going up the trail. Artie could think of no other way to express his heartfelt gratitude to this true and tried friend of his, so he put his arm out and about Westy’s shoulder firmly. Silently and hurriedly they went on through the dark, deep mountain forest, feeling in their hearts that the incidents of the day had served to cement a bond between them of loyalty and everlasting friendship that nothing could sever. With his arm still about him, Artie seemed to feel that Westy’s step dragged and halted a little now and then. “Bet you’re tired, Wes, huh?” “Just a little, Art.”