CHAPTER X.HARRY FIGHTS FOR COMMAND.
"Come back, Mr.Reade!" implored Foreman Payson.
For Tom, who had made two casts with the lariat and failed, was knee-deep in shifting sand himself.
"Keep cool!" the young chief engineer called over his shoulder.

"I'll be back--both of us in a minute or two." The hapless laborer was now engulfed to his neck in the quicksand.
"Save me! In Heaven's name get me out of this!" begged the poor fellow, frenzied by dread of his seemingly sure fate.
"I'm doing the best I can, friend!" Tom called, as he made a fresh cast.
This time the noose of the raw-hide lariat dropped over the laborer's head.
"Fight your hands free, man!" Tom called encouragingly.

"Fight your hands and chest free, so that you can slip the noose down under your armpits.

Keep cool and work fast, and we'll have you out.

Don't let yourself get excited." In the meantime Tom was wholly unaware that the engulfing quicksand was reaching up gradually toward his hips.
Foreman Payson had ceased to try to attract Tom's attention.