He lifted one hand to his head, which was so numb and felt so lifeless. What was the trouble?
Concentrating all his faculties, he forced himself to think. Then he seemed to remember.
“The girl!” he faintly exclaimed—“we were searching for her! We were trying to find the cave, and—we found it!”
He remembered at last. He remembered the appearance of the old man of the white hair and beard; he remembered that the girl had come forth from the mouth of the cave; he remembered the warning of the strange man and the frightful shock that had followed.
“Jingoes!” he said. “I believe we were struck by lightning! I’m not completely knocked out, but Harry seems to be.”
Then he reached Rattleton and touched his face, felt for his pulse, sought to discover if his heart beat.
Close to the breast of his friend Frank placed his ear, and what he heard caused him to utter a cry of satisfaction.
“Not dead!” he exclaimed. “He still lives! There is a chance for him.”
The thought that Harry’s life might depend on his efforts aroused him still more. He loosened Harry’s sweater and the collar about his throat, he chafed his wrists and temples, he fanned him, called to him, sought in many ways to arouse him.
At last he saw signs of success. Rattleton’s breast rose and fell, and he gave a great sigh.