Dick was scarcely listening now—he was staring up at the rocks above Martin Mudd’s head.
Over the edge of the rocks a monstrous head had just been thrust—it was the head of a Plesiosaurus—it dropped down and knocked off the battered plug.
Mudd looked up and sprang to his feet with a frightened yell.
“Got ’em again!” he bellowed loud enough to rival old P. D.
CHAPTER XIX.
DICK IMPROVES HIS OPPORTUNITIES.
Shouting for help from the hut, Martin Mudd ran toward it and disappeared inside.
But Dick was in no situation to defend himself from the monster, unfortunately.
All he could do was to lie there and look, but, truth told, he was not much scared and rather anticipated what happened next.
There was something wrong in the make-up of old P. D.’s head this time.
In the first place the big, staring eyes were missing and in their stead were simply two empty sockets.