Bet carefully took her feet from the stirrups and slid to the ground with a death-grip on the saddle. There was only room for one foot on the tiny shelf of rock, and that slight s.p.a.ce was slippery with the rain. Slowly Bet lowered herself, with the aid of the stirrup, and clutching at the tough-fibred plants, she lay down flat on her stomach.

Sliding and wriggling, an inch at a time, down that slippery incline, she managed to hold on to the narrow shelf.

"Joy! Joy! Where are you?" she cried.

At last Bet could hear the heavy breathing of Joy's horse, got hold of a stirrup and clung there trembling.

Again and again she called, then listened.

Finally above the roar of the storm she thought she heard a faint cry from the trail below. Bet crept along the trail, this time under Dolly's feet. She had to take a chance even though one move on the part of the horse might send her over the side of the cliff.

Then Bet saw Joy. She was clinging to a ma.s.s of bear gra.s.s, her face white and her eyes wild with fear. It was impossible to reach her.

She seemed to be clinging there only with her hands, her feet swinging without any support. But of that Bet could not be certain.

It would be sure destruction to attempt to climb down that wall.

Then quick as a flash Bet thought of the reata on Joy's saddle. Bet had insisted that the girl carry the rope with her, and Joy had protested as usual.

That rope was her only chance.

Bet slowly crept up the incline to Joy's horse and managed to get to her feet and undo the long coil of rope. Then crouching to her knees once more she made a loop, thankful that she had learned to do that stunt as a child. The other end she tied to the saddle.

Bet heard a groan from the cliff and hastened toward it.

But haste was one thing that could not be attempted with safety. Bet regretted that effort. Her body slipped, a plant gave way and her feet slid over the wall.

Bet's mind was clear. She heard once more Joy's faint cry in the distance and knew that it depended on her to rescue her friend. The empty hand clutched and found another tough root, and slowly, now, she brought first one foot then the other to the ledge. She was saved!

But would she reach Joy in time?

With greater caution she crept the few feet along that treacherous path until she came close above Joy's head.

"Hold on, Joy, don't give up! I'll help you in a minute." Bet encouraged her.

Working desperately, Bet got to her feet and clung there. It was the only hope for Joy. The rain had ceased to pour down in such a torrent, and Bet could now see her friend clinging to that slender plant.

Leaning over as far as she dared, she dropped the loop over Joy's head and shoulders.

"Joy dear," she called. "Put one arm inside the loop, quick!"

Joy heard and understood. She let go with one hand. There was a shriek, a groan, a shower of rocks descended as Joy slipped down that steep wall.

For Bet, everything went black. She grew faint and closed her eyes, then suddenly pulled herself together, and looked over.

The rope was taut. It had held.

A second shower of rocks came from the trail, started by the sudden jerk on the saddle. The horse pawed the ground in an effort to keep its footing.

It held. And Bet gripped the stirrup with her foot and drew on the rope.

It was well that Joy was tiny. Even then, Bet had difficulty in bringing her up. She tugged, she pulled, trying to ease the girl's body over the sharp projecting rocks.

Bet was weak and trembling when she clasped Joy in her arms, perched on that narrow shelf of rock.

And that was the way Kit found them ten minutes later, when the storm had pa.s.sed and the sun shone fiercely down once more.

Joy was sobbing as if her heart would break and Bet was saying in a crooning voice: "Joy dear, you can talk about the boys as much as you want to from now on. I'll never again object to anything you do."

CHAPTER XII

_DOUBLE DEALING_

An anxious group was waiting for the girls to arrive in camp. Ma Patten had run over to make her daily call on Mrs. Breckenridge. Even Tang and the two Chinese hoys were watching eagerly and scowling toward the tempestuous sky. A thunder and lightning storm in the hills was not a thing to laugh at. A flash! A roar! And a large ma.s.s of rock was cleft apart as if a mighty hammer had struck it.

Tommy Sharpe and Seedy Saunders had saddled their horses and gone in search of the girls as soon as the storm threatened, but not knowing in which direction they had headed, it was like hunting for a needle in a hay stack.

They did find Professor Gillette, however, soaked to the skin, a bedraggled, shivering figure that set the boys laughing in spite of the pathetic look of the old man. They helped him up the hill to the Patten household where he could be taken care of, and once more went in search of the girls.

But it was not until the storm was over and the girls were climbing up the last trail to the ranch that Tommy spied them.

"There they are, Seedy! They're safe!" Tommy's voice trembled with emotion. The mountain

storms still terrified the boy, although he had experienced so many of them.

By the time the girls reached the house, the strain they had undergone was beginning to wear off and they were able to laugh at their adventure. That all except Joy, who shuddered whenever she thought of it and turned pale when the women asked excited questions.

"I hate these mountains," whispered Joy to Shirley. "I wish I were going home tomorrow!"

"Why, Joy Evans, you know you don't." Shirley put her arm around the frightened girl. "You're having a grand time here, and the fun is just beginning. You're not going to quit over the first unpleasant thing that happens to you. That's not playing the game. What would Lady Betty Merriweather do?"

Joy laughed in spite of herself. "We always used to ask that question when we were in Lynnwood. Lady Betty meant a lot to us, didn't she? I guess she wouldn't have cried and taken on the way I did down there on the cliff."

"Do you remember," said Shirley softly, "how Lady Betty rode through the night to help her wounded husband? That was bravery!"

"But that was so long ago. The Revolutionary War seems like a story and not real life," Joy said with a toss of her head. "Maybe it didn't happen at all."

Lady Betty Merriweather had been the first owner of the Merriweather Estate, Bet's home on the Hudson, and from an old picture of her that adorned the great entrance hall of the Manor, the girls had come to feel that she was their friend and companion, an ideal for them to live up to.

"Anyway," continued Joy, "she liked horses. And I don't. And I don't like their old cactus plants with their sharp needles that seem to jump at you. And the sun is cruel. It bites. And even the mountains look hard and angry as if they wanted to do you a mean turn.--And that storm! Did you ever see anything more terrifying? I thought the day of judgment had come. I don't believe Lady Betty would have been any braver than I was. Well, not much braver!"

Shirley laughed softly. "Joy dear, how you exaggerate things! Arizona is wonderful. Did you ever see such glorious sunsets? I'm crazy about them."

"The sunrises are just as wonderful!" interrupted Bet. "And I'm wondering who is going to be game enough to start to Saugus before daylight some morning. Kit says we will have to take an early start if we are to make the trip in one day."

"Why are we going there?" asked Joy.

"To record our claims. We _could_ mail the filled-in blanks but it's lots more exciting to take them. And it's good experience for us.

Besides the County Recorder should get acquainted with us, for someday we'll own a great big mine and be people of importance."

The girls laughed at Bet's seriousness.