“That was Dick,” mused Tom.
“Oh, he must know we’re here,” came from the hidden Jack.
“They’re around here, they’re within talking distance, and yet I can’t get at them!” thought Tom. Once more he looked at the stones, loosely heaped together. A sudden thought came to him. A flood of memory—something he had once read in a book.
Kneeling down he placed his lips close to the crevices in the stones and called:
“Fellows, I’m here! This is Tom Fairfield! Where are you? I’ve come to rescue you! I’ve been trying all the while, but this is the first chance I’ve had! Where are you?”
Silence followed his words. Silence, and then came a rush of voices.
“It’s Tom!”
“Good old Tom!”
“Here at last!”