“I guess so,” said Joe, and at the sound of his voice Bob jumped.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you were going to guard the door.”
“That’s what I should have done, but I played the big idiot,” retorted Joe bitterly. “I couldn’t resist coming after you fellows to be in on the big fight. I suppose while I was trailing you boys somebody sneaked in the door and signed our finish.”
“Looks like it,” said Bob, feeling himself to make sure there were no bones broken. “And now, instead of delivering Cassey to justice we’re prisoners ourselves. Say, I bet the old boy isn’t laughing at us or anything just now.”
“I’m awful sorry, Bob,” said Joe penitently. “I thought if I kept my eye on the door——”
“Oh, it’s all right,” said Bob generously. “Accidents will happen and there’s no use crying over spilled milk. I suppose the most sensible thing for us to do right now is to hustle around and find a way out of this place.”
“Maybe there isn’t any,” said Jimmy dolefully. “Then what’ll we do?”
“Stay here and let the rats eat us, I guess,” said Herb cheerfully, and Jimmy groaned.
“Gosh, don’t talk about eating, old boy,” he pleaded. “I’m just about starved this minute.”
“You’ll probably stay starved for some little time longer,” said Bob unfeelingly. He had risen cautiously to his feet, and finding that their prison was at least high enough for them to stand up in, reached his hands tentatively above his head.