CHAPTER XXII.
UP FROM THE DEPTHS.
That must have been the thought flashing through the mind of each of the other three scouts. Indeed, what else could they believe, after seeing the woman carrying on in such a wild way?
Giraffe made a flying leap out of the car, nor were the others far behind him. They all ran toward the cottage, and the kneeling woman, deeply impressed with the seriousness of the incident. Their duty as scouts loomed up before them. Unless it was already too late they must find some way to save the poor woman’s child from a watery grave.
Giraffe was trying to understand what she was crying as the others came up, although from the frown on his face it was evident that he could not be meeting with any great success.
“His name is Benjy, boys,” the tall scout exclaimed, “and he’s down there in the well!”
“Oh! the poor little chap!” whimpered Bumpus, as he watched the others throw themselves flat on their stomachs, and try to peer into the dark recesses of the gaping stone-bordered hole in the ground.
“Listen!” said Thad, in a thrilling voice. “I can hear splashing down there!”
“Sure thing!” added Giraffe, “which shows the child is alive still. That settles it with me. I’m the one to go down!”
Thad had already discovered that there was a windlass above the well. A stout rope was wound around the barrel of this, and the bucket could be seen standing on the other side on a stone shelf intended for the purpose.
He knew that whatever was done there should be no more delay than was absolutely necessary. His first act therefore was to step around and release the bucket, at the same time grasping hold of the handle of the windlass.