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The car was moving, and he knew that somewhere beyond, although he could not see, the car of Spillane was likewise moving, and in the opposite direction. There was no need for a brake, for his weight sufficiently counterbalanced the weight in the other car; and soon he saw the cliff rising out of the cloud depths and the old familiar drum going round and round.
Spillane groaned, and fiercely drove his clenched fist into the palm of the other hand. His wife was crying more audibly, and Jerry could hear her murmuring, "And daddy's dyin', dyin'!" The tears welled up in his own eyes, and he stood irresolute, not knowing what he should do. But the man decided for him.
As the full force of the wind struck him in mid-air, swaying the cable and whistling and roaring past it, and rocking and careening the car, he appreciated more fully what must be the condition of mind of Spillane and his wife. And this appreciation gave strength to him, as, safely across, he fought his way up the other bank, in the teeth of the gale, to the Yellow Dream cable.
He could make out the man and woman through the whirling vapor, crouching in the bottom of the car and exposed to the pelting rain and the full fury of the wind. In a lull between the squalls he shouted to Spillane to examine the trolley of the car. Spillane heard, for he saw him rise up cautiously on his knees, and with his hands go over both trolley-wheels.
By all appearances it might be a mile to bottom instead of two hundred feet. "All ready?" he asked. "Let her go!" Spillane shouted, to make himself heard above the roar of the wind. He had clambered in beside his wife, and was holding one of her hands in his. Jerry looked upon this with disapproval. "You'll need all your hands for holdin' on, the way the wind's yowlin."
As the full force of the wind struck him in mid-air, swaying the cable and whistling and roaring past it, and rocking and careening the car, he appreciated more fully what must be the condition of mind of Spillane and his wife. And this appreciation gave strength to him, as, safely across, he fought his way up the other bank, in the teeth of the gale, to the Yellow Dream cable.
He knew that Spillane wanted to cross on the Yellow Dream cable, and in the absence of his father he felt that he dared not assume such a responsibility, for the cable had never been used for passengers; in fact, had not been used at all for a long time. "Maybe Hall will be back soon," he said. Spillane shook his head, and demanded, "Where's your father?" "San Francisco," Jerry answered, briefly.
"Look here, kid," he said, with determination, "the wife and me are goin' over on this here cable of yours! Will you run it for us?" Jerry backed slightly away. He did it unconsciously, as if recoiling instinctively from something unwelcome. "Better see if Hall's back," he suggested. "And if he ain't?" Again Jerry hesitated. "I'll stand for the risk," Spillane added.
Jerry noted that he was nervous and abrupt in his movements, and that Mrs. Spillane seemed laboring under some strong anxiety. She was a thin, washed-out, worked-out woman, whose life of dreary and unending toil had stamped itself harshly upon her face. It was the same life that had bowed her husband's shoulders and gnarled his hands and turned his hair to a dry and dusty gray.
"Don't you see, kid, we've simply got to cross!" Jerry nodded his head reluctantly. "And there ain't no use waitin' for Hall," Spillane went on. "You know as well as me he ain't back from Cripple Cow this time of day! So come along and let's get started." No wonder that Mrs.
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