A single glance showed him that he had not made thedangerous journey in vain. The front trolley-wheel， loosefrom long wear， had jumped the cable， and the cable wasnow jammed tightly between the wheel and the sheaveblock.
One thing was clear—the wheel must be removedfrom the block. A second thing was equally clear—whilethe wheel was being removed the car would have to befastened to the cable by the rope he had brought.
At the end of a quarter of an hour， beyond making thecar secure， he had accomplished nothing. The key whichbound the wheel on its axle was rusted and jammed. Hehammered at it with one hand and held on the best hecould with the other， but the wind persisted in swingingand twisting his body， and made his blows miss more oftenthan not. Nine-tenths of the strength he expended was intrying to hold himself steady. For fear that he might dropthe monkey-wrench he made it fast to his wrist with hishandkerchief.
At the end of half an hour Jerry had hammered thekey clear， but he could not draw it out. A dozen times itseemed that he must give up in despair， that all the dangerand toil he had gone through were for nothing. Then anidea came to him， and he went through his pockets withfeverish haste， and found what he sought—a ten-pennynail.
But for that nail， put in his pocket he knew not whenor why， he would have had to make another trip over thecable and back. Thrusting the nail through the loopedhead of the key， he at last had a grip， and in no time thekey was out.
Then came punching and prying with the iron bar toget the wheel itself free from where it was jammed bythe cable against the side of the block. After that Jerryreplaced the wheel， and by means of the rope， heaved upon the car till the trolley once more rested properly on thecable.
All this took time. More than an hour and a half hadelapsed since his arrival at the empty car. And now， forthe first time， he dropped out of his saddle and down intothe car. He removed the detaining ropes， and the trolleywheelsbegan slowly to revolve. The car was moving， andhe knew that somewhere beyond， although he could notsee， the car of Spillane was likewise moving， and in theopposite direction.
There was no need for a brake， for his weight sufficientlycounterbalanced the weight in the other car； and soonhe saw the cliff rising out of the cloud depths and the oldfamiliar drum going round and round.
Jerry climbed out and made the car securely fast. Hedid it deliberately and carefully， and then， quite unherolike，he sank down by the drum， regardless of the peltingstorm， and burst out sobbing.
There were many reasons why he sobbed—partly fromthe pain of his hands， which was excruciating； partly fromexhaustion； partly from relief and release from the nervetensionhe had been under for so long； and in a largemeasure from thankfulness that the man and woman weresaved.
They were not there to thank him； but somewherebeyond that howling， storm-driven gulf he knew they werehurrying over the trail toward the Clover Leaf.
Jerry staggered to the cabin， and his hand left the whiteknob red with blood as he opened the door， but he tookno notice of it.
He was too proudly contented with himself， for he wascertain that he had done well， and he was honest enoughto admit to himself that he had done well. But a smallregret arose and persisted in his thoughts—if his fatherhad only been there to see！