He pulled up the heather and examined the hole. The earth was dry and sandy. Andy scraped away hard, and found that it was quite easy to make it bigger. Just suppose he could make it big enough to get down—or for Tom to get up!
"I knew there'd be a way if we didn't give up hope!" thought the excited boy. "I just knew it!"
He crawled to the top of the cliff and looked over it. The sentry was there still, and he was busy eating his breakfast. He was all right for some time.
Andy crawled back to the hole. He scraped about a little more, and then lay down with his face in the hole. It seemed to go down and down into the darkness.
Andy spoke in a low voice. "Tom! Are you there?"
And was Tom there? Yes, he was! He had been in the Round Cave, alone and lonely, ever since he had been caught. It had seemed ages to him. The boy had worried dreadfully about the others. He had eaten a little of the food around him, but he had no appetite now. He was miserable and frightened, though he would not show this to any of the sentries who occasionally came up the rocky passage-way to see if he was all right.
The man who could speak English had come to see him the evening before.
"We have searched the first island and this one," he had told Tom. "We have found your shack—and we have found your friends, too!"
Tom's heart sank when he heard this. The man was really telling an untruth, hoping to trap Tom into saying something that would show him there were others to be found. But Tom said nothing.
"I tell you we have found your friends," said the man. "They fought hard but they have been captured."