He sprang to the
open trap door.
Just discernible in the darkness was Ned's slowly retreating form.
He was climbing down the twenty-five-foot rope landing ladder with
only his own strong grip and the spruce rungs to save him from
death.
There was nothing to be said or done. Bob did not know what was
going on below, but he knew that he had a task set for him, and in
the long silence that followed while the Cibola settled lower and
lower and drifted on and on in the dark he stood, knife in hand, at
the ballast bags.
CHAPTER XXII
A THRILLING RESCUE IN MID-AIR
Buck, the guide, and Elmer Grissom had reached their appointed
rendezvous at two o'clock that afternoon. The hot journey had been
tedious and uneventful. Only at the half-breed settlement twenty
miles north of Clarkeville had they seen a human being. Therefore,
after they had been in camp about an hour, even the vigilant,
experienced Buck was startled to observe suddenly a solitary
Indian--his horse as statuesque as himself--watching them from a
knoll some two hundred yards distant.
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