Spillane heard， for he saw him rise up cautiously on hisknees， and with his hands go over both trolley-wheels.
Then he turned his face toward the bank.
“She’s all right， kid！”
Jerry heard the words， faint and far， as from a remotedistance. Then what was the matter？ Nothing remainedbut the other and empty car， which he could not see， butwhich he knew to be there， somewhere in that terriblegulf two hundred feet beyond Spillane’s car.
His mind was made up on the instant. He was onlyfourteen years old， slightly and wirily built； but his life hadbeen lived among the mountains， his father had taughthim no small measure of “sailoring”， and he was notparticularly afraid of heights.
In the tool-box by the drum he found an old monkeywrenchand a short bar of iron， also a coil of fairly newManila rope. He looked in vain for a piece of board withwhich to rig a “boatswain’s chair.” There was nothing athand but large planks， which he had no means of sawing，so he was compelled to do without the more comfortableform of saddle.
The saddle he rigged was very simple. With the rope hemade merely a large loop round the stationary cable， towhich hung the empty car. When he sat in the loop hishands could just reach the cable conveniently， and wherethe rope was likely to fray against the cable he lashed hiscoat， in lieu of the old sack he would have used had hebeen able to find one.
These preparations swiftly completed， he swung outover the chasm， sitting in the rope saddle and pullinghimself along the cable by his hands. With him he carriedthe monkey-wrench and short iron bar and a few sparefeet of rope. It was a slightly up-hill pull， but this he didnot mind so much as the wind. When the furious gustshurled him back and forth， sometimes half twisting himabout， and he gazed down into the gray depths， he wasaware that he was afraid. It was an old cable. What if itshould break under his weight and the pressure of thewind？
It was fear he was experiencing， honest fear， and heknew that there was a “gone” feeling in the pit of hisstomach， and a trembling of the knees which he could notquell.
But he held himself bravely to the task. The cable wasold and worn， sharp pieces of wire projected from it， andhis hands were cut and bleeding by the time he took hisfirst rest， and held a shouted conversation with Spillane.
The car was directly beneath him and only a few feet away，so he was able to explain the condition of affairs and hiserrand.
“Wish I could help you，” Spillane shouted at him as hestarted on， “but the wife’s gone all to pieces！ Anyway， kid，take care of yourself！ I got myself in this fix， but it’s up toyou to get me out！”
“Oh， I’ll do it！” Jerry shouted back. “Tell Mrs. Spillanethat she’ll be ashore now in a jiffy！”
In the midst of pelting rain， which half-blinded him，swinging from side to side like a rapid and erraticpendulum， his torn hands paining him severely and hislungs panting from his exertions and panting from thevery air which the wind sometimes blew into his mouthwith strangling force， he finally arrived at the empty car.
