A TEST OF COURAGE
It was an extreme test of courage to do what Ruth Fielding did then. To
let oneself go blindly, trusting to another’s strength and skill to save
one from a terrible death, takes bravery of the highest.
Perhaps if any one but Tom had been waiting for her there below Ruth
could not have done what she did. But it was Tom--Tom, who, she knew,
would give his life for her, who was always there when she needed him.
Without daring to let herself think longer Ruth unwound her numbed
fingers from about the trunk of the tree and let herself drop.
Tom saw her coming, leaned outward, caught her as she fell. For a moment
they swung out above that dizzy depth, only the strength of Tom’s arm
between them and disaster.
Ruth did her best, throwing her weight forward, scrambling for a
foothold on the ledge. By a superhuman effort Tom regained his balance
and his sure foothold on the ledge. He drew Ruth to him, holding her
reassuringly.
“We’re all right, now,” he said huskily in her ear. “That was luck.”
“Not luck!” panted Ruth. She was feeling faint and sick with the
reaction and it was only by a tremendous effort that she kept herself
upright, even with the strength of Tom’s arm about her. “It wasn’t
luck,” she managed to say. “It was just plain pluck, Tommy-boy. No one
else would have thought of doing what you did.”
Something in the tone of the girl’s voice caused Tom to look at her
sharply.
“Do you feel sick?” he asked, for her face was ashen white.
Ruth managed a smile through tight lips.
“A little dizzy,” she admitted. “I don’t dare look down or up.”
“Don’t, then. Shut your eyes.”
Ruth shook her head.
“That only makes it ten times worse.” Then in a minute as she saw him
looking anxiously at her, she added: “I’m all right, Tom. Don’t worry
about me.”
Tom replied cheerfully that he was not worried--that he could bet on her
always.
But in his heart he was anxious enough. The pallor of Ruth’s face was
enough to show her condition. If she should faint there on that narrow
ledge of rock how long could he hold her with only the sapling to cling
to, and his left hand at that?
Well, he decided grimly, if worst came to worst, they would go
together--that was some comfort.
He cast an anxious glance aloft. Boardman should be back by this time.
It seemed ages that they had been clinging there.
Tom felt Ruth sag against him and looked down at her again. She was
fighting with all her strength the waves of nausea and faintness that
threatened to engulf her.
“Hold on, Ruth, just a minute or two more. Boardman’s sure to get here
soon.”
He looked up again and saw Helen peering over at them. She was lying
prone on the ground, afraid otherwise to approach that perilous ledge.
“They’re coming!” she cried to Tom’s questioning, upturned face. “I can
hear them coming up the trail. Can you hold on, Tommy-boy?”
“Sure!” Tom’s voice was hopeful, even buoyant. “Did you hear what she
said?” he added to the half-fainting girl at his side. “They’ll be here
in a jiffy now.”
Ruth lifted her head and tried to smile.
“Good!” was all she said, but Tom knew that there was plenty of the
fighting spirit left in her yet.
It was a matter of only a few minutes before they heard excited voices
overhead, Helen’s quick answers, Boardman’s curt commands.
Looking up, Tom saw that the actor held a lariat in his hands and was
twirling it with practiced skill. The next moment a loop of rope
descended and settled gently about Ruth’s shoulders.
“Under your arms, Ruth. Here, I’ll help,” cried Tom.
Between them they managed to get the loop of the rope beneath Ruth’s
arms.
“All right?” called Boardman.
“All right!” responded Tom, and the actor drew taut the noose, fitting
the rope snugly.
A dozen hands added their strength to Boardman’s, and in a moment Ruth
felt herself drawn over the edge of the precipice--found her feet once
more on solid ground.
“Tom!” she stammered, as Helen’s arms went eagerly about her.
“He’s all right. We’ll get him next,” promised Boardman.
A moment more and Tom was standing, shaken but smiling, among them while
a dozen admiring cowboys shook him by the hand or pounded him on the
back in admiration of his nerve.
“You sure was flirtin’ with the undertaker that time, mister,” one of
them remarked, as Tom, feeling very sheepish and not in the least like
the hero they were trying to make of him, pushed himself through the
group to where Helen was standing with her arm about Ruth.
“Feeling better?” he asked the latter.
“Ever so much!” she responded, but Tom saw that she was still fighting
nausea and faintness. Without a word he caught Ruth up in his arms and
strode with her down the mountain trail.
A short distance within the woods they found horses tethered to the
trees, evidently the mounts of the cowboys who had ridden with Layton
Boardman to the rescue.
Tom, unasking, appropriated one of these, placed Ruth in the saddle, and
swung himself up behind her.
“It isn’t Layton Boardman this time,” he could not resist saying as Ruth
rested contentedly against his big shoulder.
“You were wonderful, Tom!” she said. “I’ll never forget what you
did--never!”
All Headwaters Ranch was roused by Ruth’s accident and Tom’s spectacular
method of rescue. Every one visited the spot, examined the tiny ledge,
and wondered how any one could drop to it and retain his balance. Each
one was quite sure he could not have performed the feat. Needless to
say, Tom’s heroism raised him immensely in the estimation of every one.
As for Ruth, she never approached that spot again without a reminiscent
shudder.
The girl had scant opportunity to dwell on her narrow escape, however,
for as the day approached for the staging of the avalanche innumerable
details had to be attended to, the scene rehearsed again and again.
At last everything was in readiness--dynamite had been planted, extras
well instructed. To-morrow the scene would be taken--the great, the
climactic scene of the whole drama. Every one was on edge, excited,
keyed to a high nervous tension.
Tom, knowing the inevitable danger to the actors in a thing of the sort,
went around with an anxious frown on his brow, at times stopping to
exhort Ruth to be careful.
“Of course I’ll be careful, Tom,” she said impatiently at last. “But,
really, it’s foolish of you to worry so. There isn’t a mite of actual
danger.”
“Just the same,” he told her, “I’ll be pretty thankful when to-morrow is
safely over.”
To-morrow came and with it the promise of another fine, sunshiny day.
Ruth’s entire company was on tiptoe with expectation.
As soon as possible after breakfast Ruth ordered the company out on
location. They went gladly, excitedly, catching something of Ruth’s
intense enthusiasm, resolved to back up their “leading lady” to the
limit.
It was a great party that started into the mountains that sparkling
morning. Miss Lang rode in state in the ranch flivver. Mr. Hammond, who
had prolonged his stay out of all reason, cantered gallantly at her
side.
On horseback, Ruth, with Helen and Tom on either side of her, led the
rest of her company, including the cameramen, while in the rear a
veritable army of cowboys--those to be used as extras in the scene and
others who came along merely out of curiosity--zipped and hurrahed along
the dusty road.
Upon reaching location it took but a short time for the cameramen to set
their cameras in position and the company to get ready for spirited
action.
“I have a feeling,” said Ruth to Boardman, as she spurred her horse
toward the group of cabins at the foot of the mountain, “that something
tremendous is going to happen this morning--a picture that will give
points to the best one I ever made!”
Layton Boardman smiled.
“It’s in the air!” he agreed, and galloped after her.
At the word of command from the film director, the little band of
desperate bandits descended upon the unsuspecting mining town and
cameras started to grind busily. The “big doings” were on!
Everything went exactly as it had been planned and the fight before the
cabins was spirited and realistic. Then the great moment was at hand! A
close-up had been taken of Ruth and Boardman bound hand and foot in the
deserted cabin. The next moment--the camera having finished with
them--they had slipped their bonds and were dashing with the rest of
Ruth’s company toward the safety of the mountain cave.
The time for the avalanche was at hand!