A narrow passage opened out of the back of this almost circular cave. Part of the time they traveled through a veritable tunnel. At other times Ruth saw the clear sky far above them as they passed along deep cuts in the hills.
The descent was continuous, but gradual. Such a path wild animals might have traveled in times past. Originally it was probably a water-course. The action of the water had eaten out the softer rock until almost a direct passage had been made from the bottom of the cliff where Ruth had fallen to the edge of the swift stream that ran through the middle of the island.
They came out behind a screen of thick brush through which Ruth could see the far bank of the brook, but through which nobody outside could see. Jerry set down the lantern, and later leaned the rifle against the wall when he had made sure that nobody was in sight.
"I am going to carry you a ways, Miss Ruth," he said, "if you don't mind. You see, I must walk in the stream or they will find this entrance to my hide-out."
"But—can you carry me?"
"I bet you! If you only wore rubber boots I'd let you walk. Come on, please."
"Oh! I am not afraid," she told him, quietly, and allowed him to take her into his arms after he had stepped down into the shallow, swiftly lowing current.
"This water-trail confuses men and dogs completely," said Jerry, with a laugh. "That is—such men as Lem Daggett. If I was hunting a fellow who took to the stream, with the water so shallow, I'd find which way he went in a jiffy."
"How would you?" demanded Ruth, feeling perfectly secure in the strong arms of the young fellow.
"That's telling," chuckled Jerry. "Mebbe—some time—I'll tell you. I hoped I'd get the chance of showing you and your friends around this island. But I guess I won't."