He lay down on his side and, with his arms pushed as close to his sides as possible, stuck his head through the hole and then pushed gently with his feet.
You would have said it was impossible for Bob to get through that narrow opening. The boys still thought it was. Yet, in another moment they had to change their minds. As Bob had said, “you never know what you can do till you’re desperate.”
Once it seemed, so tight was he wedged, that Bob would be doomed to spend the rest of his life there, but by a tremendous effort he finally managed to push himself the rest of the way. Then, panting and triumphant, he stood up on the other side of that hole, free.
“Well, what Bob can do, I can too,” said Joe. “Let’s go.”
He managed the feat and Herb after him, each one loosening some dirt and small stones as he wriggled his way through. It was harder for Jimmy, but by strenuous pulling they finally managed to rescue him also.
“Say,” cried Bob, drawing in deep breaths of the cool evening air, “make believe it doesn’t smell good out here!”
CHAPTER XVII
AN OLD ENEMY
They were starting back along the familiar path to the lodge when they were surprised by the sound of angry voices coming from the direction of the road just beyond.
One of the voices seemed familiar to them and by common consent they turned and retraced their steps. For the voice, improbable as it seemed, had sounded like Buck Looker’s!
As they came out into the open they saw through the gathering dusk the indistinct outlines of a motor car. At first they could not distinguish the owners of the voices raised in altercation, but in a moment more they saw the reason for this.