The shaft was filling, the water had reached the bucket, and had risen to Red George's neck, so that his weight was no longer on the rope.

So fast did the water pour in, that it was not half a minute before the bucket reached the surface, and Red George sprang out.

There was but time for one exclamation, and then the great wave struck them.

Red George was whirled like a straw in the current; but he was a strong swimmer, and at a point where the valley widened out, half a mile lower, he struggled to shore.
Two days later the news reached Pine Tree Gulch that a boy's body had been washed ashore twenty miles down, and ten men, headed by Red George, went and brought it solemnly back to Pine Tree Gulch.

There among the stumps of pine trees a grave was dug, and there, in the presence of the whole camp, White Faced Dick was laid to rest.
Pine Tree Gulch is a solitude now, the trees are growing again, and none would dream that it was once a busy scene of industry; but if the traveler searches among the pine trees he will find a stone with the words: "Here lies White Faced Dick, who died to save Red George.