He had no time to see how the others were getting on; he worked on
faith. His own efforts were becoming successful. The fire, trying, one
after another, various leads through the rocks, ran out of fuel and
died. The infernal roaring furnace below, however, leaped ever to new
trial.
Then all at once Bob found himself temporarily out of the game. In
trying to roll a boulder out of the way, he caught his hand. A sharp,
lightning pain shot up his arm and into the middle of his chest. When he
had succeeded in extricating himself, he found that his middle finger
was squarely broken.
VI
Bob stood still for a moment, looking at the injured member. Charley
Morton touched him on the shoulder. When he looked up, the ranger
motioned him back. Casting a look of regret at his half-completed
defences, he obeyed. To his surprise he found the other four already
gathered together. Evidently his being called off the work had nothing
to do with his broken finger, as he had at first supposed.
"Well, I guess we'll have to fall back," said Morton composedly. "It's
got away from us."
Without further comment he shouldered his implements and took his way up
the hill.
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