"Haul away! Careful, but strong and steady!" Under Foreman Payson's direction a score of men seized the other end of the line and then began to haul.
Harry danced up and down in a frenzy.
"Tom, you idiot," he gasped.

"You haven't made the line fast about yourself." "Not yet," came the cheery answer.

"That wouldn't be fair play.

Haul away on our friend out yonder." Tom Reade had knotted the line fast to his end of the rawhide lariat that was tied under the shoulders of the engulfed laborer.

It was magnificent, though seemingly a useless sacrifice of his own life for one who must already be dead.
From some of the workmen a faint cheer went up as the slowly incoming line hauled the head of the unconscious laborer above the sand.