CHAPTER XVII
FRANK HOLDS THE HOT STICK
"No hurry," said Frank, who realized that his comrade was worked up to a high pitch of excitement, and thought it the part of wisdom to do something in order to quiet Bob's nerves.
"But if we've got to try it, Frank, what's the use of waiting?" demanded the impetuous one.
"Well, for one thing, we don't want to be carrying these candles without making use of one, you see," replied Frank, who was again getting out his handy matchsafe.
"What a silly I am, to be sure," laughed Bob; "why of course we want a light, if we're going to invade that den of the demon Joe told us about. What do you think about that yarn, Frank; did he meet up with anything; or was he just scared out of his seven senses? Perhaps there's a strong current of air in that place, along with the noise, and that took hold of Joe."
"Well, I wouldn't like to say," replied the other, cautiously. "This I do know, and I saw it with my own eyes. Joe's fancy Mexican jacket was torn nearly into ribbons; and I could see marks of blood, too."
"Whew! you don't say?" ejaculated Bob. "Then something did get hold of him; didn't it, Frank?"
"Looked like it," admitted the other.
"His jacket was torn into ribbons, you said—then I reckon whatever tackled Joe had pretty sharp claws, Frank!" Bob continued.