“Maybe Hall will be back soon，” he said.
Spillane shook his head， and demanded， “Where’s yourfather？”
“San Francisco，” Jerry answered， briefly.
Spillane groaned， and fiercely drove his clenched fistinto the palm of the other hand. His wife was crying moreaudibly， and Jerry could hear her murmuring， “And daddy’sdyin’， dyin’！”
The tears welled up in his own eyes， and he stoodirresolute， not knowing what he should do. But the mandecided for him.
“Look here， kid，” he said， with determination， “the wifeand me are goin’ over on this here cable of yours！ Will yourun it for us？”
Jerry backed slightly away. He did it unconsciously， as ifrecoiling instinctively from something unwelcome.
“Better see if Hall’s back，” he suggested.
“And if he ain’t？”
Again Jerry hesitated.
“I’ll stand for the risk，” Spillane added. “Don’t you see，kid， we’ve simply got to cross！”
Jerry nodded his head reluctantly.
“And there ain’t no use waitin’ for Hall，” Spillane wenton. “You know as well as me he ain’t back from CrippleCow this time of day！ So come along and let’s get started.”
No wonder that Mrs. Spillane seemed terrified as theyhelped her into the ore-car—so Jerry thought， as he gazedinto the apparently fathomless gulf beneath her. For itwas so filled with rain and cloud， hurtling and curling inthe fierce blast， that the other shore， seven hundred feetaway， was invisible， while the cliff at their feet droppedsheer down and lost itself in the swirling vapor. By allappearances it might be a mile to bottom instead of twohundred feet.
“All ready？” he asked.
“Let her go！” Spillane shouted， to make himself heardabove the roar of the wind.
He had clambered in beside his wife， and was holdingone of her hands in his.
Jerry looked upon this with disapproval. “You’ll need allyour hands for holdin’ on， the way the wind’s yowlin.”
The man and the woman shifted their hands accordingly，tightly gripping the sides of the car， and Jerry slowly andcarefully released the brake. The drum began to revolveas the endless cable passed round it， and the car slidslowly out into the chasm， its trolley wheels rolling on thestationary cable overhead， to which it was suspended.
It was not the first time Jerry had worked the cable，but it was the first time he had done so away from thesupervising eye of his father. By means of the brake heregulated the speed of the car. It needed regulating， forat times， caught by the stronger gusts of wind， it swayedviolently back and forth； and once， just before it wasswallowed up in a rain squall， it seemed about to spill outits human contents.
After that Jerry had no way of knowing where the carwas except by means of the cable. This he watched keenlyas it glided around the drum. “Three hundred feet，” hebreathed to himself， as the cable markings went by， “threehundred and fifty， four hundred； four hundred and——”
The cable had stopped. Jerry threw off the brake， butit did not move. He caught the cable with his hands andtried to start it by tugging smartly. Something had gonewrong. What？ He could not guess； he could not see.
Looking up， he could vaguely make out the empty car，which had been crossing from the opposite cliff at a speedequal to that of the loaded car. It was about two hundredand fifty feet away. That meant， he knew， that somewherein the gray obscurity， two hundred feet above the river andtwo hundred and fifty feet from the other bank， Spillaneand his wife were suspended and stationary.
Three times Jerry shouted with all the shrill force of hislungs， but no answering cry came out of the storm. It wasimpossible for him to hear them or to make himself heard.
As he stood for a moment， thinking rapidly， the flyingclouds seemed to thin and lift. He caught a brief glimpseof the swollen Sacramento beneath， and a briefer glimpseof the car and the man and woman. Then the cloudsdescended thicker than ever.
The boy examined the drum closely， and found nothingthe matter with it. Evidently it was the drum on the otherside that had gone wrong. He was appalled at thought ofthe man and woman out there in the midst of the storm，hanging over the abyss， rocking back and forth in thefrail car and ignorant of what was taking place on shore.
And he did not like to think of their hanging there whilehe went round by the Yellow Dragon cable to the otherdrum.
But he remembered a block and tackle in the toolhouse，and ran and brought it. They were double blocks，and he murmured aloud， “A purchase of four，” as he madethe tackle fast to the endless cable. Then he heaved uponit， heaved until it seemed that his arms were being drawnout from their sockets and that his shoulder muscleswould be ripped asunder. Yet the cable did not budge.
Nothing remained but to cross over to the other side.
He was already soaking wet， so he did not mind the rainas he ran over the trail to the Yellow Dragon. The stormwas with him， and it was easy going， although there wasno Hall at the other end of it to man the brake for himand regulate the speed of the car. This he did for himself，however， by means of a stout rope， which he passed， witha turn， round the stationary cable.
As the full force of the wind struck him in mid-air，swaying the cable and whistling and roaring past it， androcking and careening the car， he appreciated more fullywhat must be the condition of mind of Spillane and hiswife. And this appreciation gave strength to him， as， safelyacross， he fought his way up the other bank， in the teethof the gale， to the Yellow Dream cable.
To his consternation， he found the drum in thoroughworking order. Everything was running smoothly at bothends. Where was the hitch？ In the middle， without a doubt.
From this side， the car containing Spillane was only twohundred and fifty feet away. He could make out the manand woman through the whirling vapor， crouching in thebottom of the car and exposed to the pelting rain andthe full fury of the wind. In a lull between the squalls heshouted to Spillane to examine the trolley of the car.