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and in an instant he was fall- pose to get up and walk on ing-falling into eternity. this confounded beam again; in fact, I don't think either of us could. We must wriggle along on our tummies, and try and find a way through the jungle to the road. It can't be very far from the line here."

But Sartoris was prepared. Almost as Fordham's feet left the rail he tightened his grasp on his friend's hand, and pulled him over towards himself so that the lad's body fell across the rail. At the same instant he crouched down, throwing himself astride of his own beam, where he hung on like grim death with both legs and his left hand, while he steadied Fordham on his with the right. Fordham burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

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Steady, Fordie, steady," said Sartoris quietly. "Get a grip of yourself, or we shall both fall and make a mess down there. Don't make an ass of yourself." And he took a still firmer grasp of his friend's hand.

Gradually Fordham regained control of himself, and was able to take in the situation.

"Let go my hand now, old chap," then said Sartoris "that is, if you think you can hang on by yourself. I want to get into a rather safer position. If it hadn't been for this diagonal strut underneath in which my foot's jammed we should both have gone that time. There, that's better. Now, how are you feeling about it?

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Then let's get along out of this," rejoined Fordham. "It's no place for repose."

Slowly, painfully, and with much effort they sidled and jigged themselves back along their respective beams until they arrived once more on terra firma, where they threw themselves down on the grass by the side of the line and soon regained their composure.

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"Do you know, Sartor," said Fordham, "it has just occurred to me that if it had not been for you I should now be down at the bottom of that gully or cañon, or whatever you call it." Stow it, Fordie," expostulated Sartoris, "and don't talk rot. We were both looking out for each other, and, as 'Torps would put it, we were 'interdependent.' If I hadn't done something I should be down there too. But look here. Do you remember seeing what looked like a hole in the edge of the jungle, about a hundred yards back?

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"All right. Lead on, Macduff," replied the other.

They found the hole, and, climbing down the railway embankment, saw at once that some one had recently passed through it, the prints of at least two pairs of very large feet being plainly visible in the mud. "Where nigs can go we can follow," remarked Sartoris. "Come on. Let's see; we want to keep the sun on our port beam."

Pushing their way through the tangled undergrowth, they soon found themselves in a narrow track, rather than a footpath, leading over comparatively firm ground, though they sank up to their ankles Occasionally in the oozy slushy mud. Every now and then they encountered pools of stagnant water, which, if they were not able to jump, they waded warily, sounding with their walking-sticks. It was a slow progress, hot, dirty, and uncomfortable, but infinitely better than the tight-rope act. The atmosphere was stifling, not a breath of air was stirring, and the smell of decaying vegetable matter was overpowering. Presently they sighted what appeared to be a clearing in the jungle ahead of them, and they were discussing what this unexpected sight could mean when Sartoris, who was leading, suddenly found himself up to his knees in water, and before he could stop himself he sank overhead in the morass. He tried to strike out and swim, but he could do nothing with

his feet, which seemed to be imprisoned by something which surrounded them and prevented him from moving them, while his arms were rendered equally useless by floating masses of debris which hampered all movement while affording no support. He managed, however, to get his head above water, after frantic efforts which thoroughly exhausted him, and then, with a gurgle, he was on the point of sinking again when Fordham, who was standing on fairly solid ground, threw himself full length in the mud, crept forward, and extended a hand. Sartoris tried to grab it, but the very act of lifting his own hand out of water to do so sent him down again.

He was an experienced hand under water, but he had never been placed in such a position before. It was like a nightmare, this feeling of powerlessness, and he was beginning to think that he was done when his hand struck something solid, something that he was able to grasp and help himself with. It was stone, and seemed to be part of the coping of a well, or something very like it. At all events, it was sufficient to give him some support, and he very soon had his head up again, and this time he did not miss Fordham's still extended hand, which quickly drew him towards the edge of the pool, which they now found was of but small extent, and had only about one foot of water in the greater part of it. It was only in the middle that there was

any depth, and there Sartoris people shan't get drowned in was unable to find bottom. On it?" the far side of the pool the ground suddenly rose and formed a really solid bank of bare earth and stones.

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Not much you won't," replied Fordham. "You jolly well come out this side. You gave me the fright of my life when you went down the second time, and I'm not going to let go of you till you're out of water."

"Rot," protested Sartoris. "Look, you can easily jump across and land on that bank, which is solid enough in all conscience, and then you can give me a hand out there."

This was done, and together the two boys entered the clearing, which, being on rather higher ground, was quite dry underfoot. There they found a negro hut, with an old crone sitting at the door. On seeing the dripping Sartoris she rose and advanced towards them, exclaiming, "Hi, massa, you dun bin fall inter dat ole well! Lucky you get out'n it. Dey two niggers bin drown dere las' yeah. Come in an' ole Martha'll clean yo' clo'es. Bless grashus if dey ain' all d'it."

"Never mind my clothes," said Sartoris. "But why don't you fence off that well-if it is a well and not a trap-so that

"Dey ain' nobody come dis way 'cep'n dem wat ain' got no business dere. Rastus'n me we knows w'ar dat well'n we ain' guineter fall in. Udder folk c'n fall in if dey wanter."

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"Dere's de road, des back of de hut, massa. Yo' doan' say yo' dun bin walkin' on de line-on dem b'idges? Den yo' sailor boy. Rastus wuz a sailor-went a'fishin'—"

But the midshipmen, disgusted with the old hag's conversation, had made for the road, so heard no more.

"I say, old chap," said Sartoris shamefacedly, as soon as they had found the road, “I shall never forget what you did just now. You saved my life."

"Not I," replied Fordham. "I did only just what any one could have done; but you, I don't think there's another fellow in the ship could have done what you did for me on that bridge. Don't say another word about what I

did."

They agreed to call it quits. It was a good road and not too hilly, and they found that they made much better time on it than on the railway line, but they realised that they had still a long way to go, and they were tired out with their

experiences. Soon after leaving their dusky hag it became dark, and they trudged along in the pitch darkness-for there was no moon that night,-and cursed the railway porter, to whom they attributed all their troubles, and calculated their chances of ever getting to Port of Spain on foot, or of finding a vehicle to carry them at San Jose, and wondered when they would get anything to eat or drink, especially the latter, and became footsore and even more weary.

It must have been quite eight o'clock when they got to San Jose, utterly "done," and there were nothing but nigger huts to be seen, and not a soul in the streets. They found a stone seat by the roadside, and sat down to rest and to consider what they had better do. They realised that they could not drag themselves another yard, much less walk the eleven or twelve miles that still separated them from their goal, and this miserable village did not seem to promise anything in the way of a conveyance. The ship had probably sailed already. Their joint funds, they found on taking stock, totalled 6s. 74d. Visions of passing the night in a sweet potato patch on empty stomachs, of tottering into Port of Spain the following morning, or perhaps not till the afternoon, dirty, unshaven, unkempt and in rags, to find the ship gone, and the further prospect of a court-martial to follow, did not improve matters. They felt thoroughly miserable and

hopeless, and even Sartoris' optimism deserted him.

But as they sat there moodily resting their tired limbs, there broke upon their ears the sound of a horse trotting, and presently the glare of a lamp shone round a corner of the road some fifty yards away. This was followed by the appearance of two carriage lamps approaching them rapidly.

They rose to their feet and went out into the middle of the road and waved their arms wildly. The trap pulled up short, and an English voice exclaimed, "Who the devil are you? What the deuce do you want?"

"Awfully sorry to stop you, sir," said Sartoris, "but the fact is we are stranded here. We are midshipmen of the Cassiopeia, and have missed the last train back to Port of Spain."

"Jump in," replied the voice; "I'm in a hurry to get home, and you'd better come with me and tell me all about it."

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We've walked as far as this from Arima, but are quite cooked, and can't do any more. The ship's sailing to-night, and we are altogether up a tree. Can you tell me if it is possible to get any sort of trap here to take us in?"

"I'd drive you in myself, but my mare here has already done forty miles this afternoon. But you'd better come along with me, and I'll give you some supper and a drink, which will buck you up a bit, I have no doubt, and by that time I

daresay we can find another nag that'll be fit for the road. Jump in, both of you; the the station's only half a mile farther."

You may be sure they lost no time in obeying the behest of their friend in need, who whipped up the mare, and in ten minutes they were seated in comfortable long chairs in the verandah of their new acquaintance, a planter, with long tumblers containing lager beer foaming at their elbows.

Oh, what luxury it was to sit there, and after getting their boots off and their feet into slippers, which were brought in by a grinning nigger, to fall asleep while waiting for supper. And when it arrived it was so good, after gun-room fare, that they grossly overate themselves, and at once went to sleep again.

Their kindly host let them sleep until the trap was ready, and it was close on ten o'clock when they at last made a start, driven by Mr Brown's negro groom.

"Good-bye, sir," sung out Sartoris, as they drove off. "We are tremendously obliged to you. It has really been too good of you."

"Not at all," replied the planter. "I am only too glad to have been able to help you. Good luck to you. May you catch your ship all right. If it should come to a courtmartial, you'd better come here and try your hands at farming in the tropics."

"" That's a splendid idea, Fordie," said Sartoris, when

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mean a word of it. He knew as well as you do that there is not the least chance of our being tried for being late and missing the ship. The skipper will tell us not to do it again, and Number One will stop our leave, and will sign the leave book the next day with our names in it. And we'd soon find that they don't 'pipe dinner' ashore."

But Sartoris was asleep, and didn't hear Fordham's moral lecture.

They arrived at Port of Spain in less than an hour, and by eleven o'clock they were on their way off to the ship in a boat pulled by four stalwart blacks. They had given all their worldly wealth to the groom, and now trusted to be able to borrow enough to pay for the boat from some one when they got on board.

The ship was still therethey could easily distinguish her lights from those of all other vessels,-and they could see that she was not exhibiting any signs of immediate departure. Could it be that the sailing had been postponed,

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