“Why, it’s a bluff a hundred feet deep—a straight drop—and rocks at the bottom. She’s making as straight as a bee-line for it now, blast her!”

“And Jim don’t know it,” I said; “he’s closing up to her, but he doesn’t calculate to do it for a quarter of a mile more; he’s letting her take it out of herself.”

“He’ll never catch her in time,” said the young chap. “My God! it’s an awful thing, isn’t it? and a fine young lady like her—so kind to us chaps as she was.”

“I’ll see if I can make Jim hear,” I said, for though I looked cool I was as nearly mad as I could be to think of such a girl being lost before our eyes. “No, I can’t do that, but I’ll telegraph.”

CHAPTER X

Now Jim and I had had many a long talk together about what we should do in case we wanted to signal to each other very pressing. We thought the time might come some day when we might be near enough to sign, but not to speak. So we hit upon one or two things a little out of the common.

The first idea was, in case of one wanting to give the other the office that he was to look out his very brightest for danger, and not to trust to what appeared to be the state of affairs, the sign was to hold up your hat or cap straight over your head. If the danger threatened on the left, to shift to that side. If it was very pressing and on the jump, as it were, quite unexpected, and as bad as bad could be, the signalman was to get up on the saddle with his knees and turn half round.

We could do this easy enough and a lot of circus tricks besides. How had we learned them? Why, in the long days we had spent in the saddle tailing the milkers and searching after lost horses for many a night.

As luck would have it Jim looked round to see how we were getting on, and up went my cap. I could see him turn his head and keep watching me when I put on the whole box and dice of the telegraph business. He “dropped,” I could see. He took up the brown horse, and made such a rush to collar the mare that showed he intended to see for himself what the danger was. The cross-grained jade! She was a well-bred wretch, and be hanged to her! Went as if she wanted to win the Derby and gave Jim all he knew to challenge her. We could see a line of timber just ahead of her, and that Jim was riding for his life.

“By--! they’ll both be over it,” said the young shearer. “They can’t stop themselves at that pace, and they must be close up now.”

“He’s neck and neck,” I said. “Stick to her, Jim, old man!”