While he was gone, Jerry told his impressions of the hole.
“It seems to be a slanting tunnel, not high enough to stand in. I reckon that at some past time it was made by rushing water, it’s worn so smooth.”
“Oh, Jerry, please don’t go in there all alone.” It was Mary imploring. “I’m smaller than you are. Let me go with you.”
Jerry’s grateful glance was infinitely tender and so was his voice as he replied, “Little Sister, I’ll be careful not to run into danger.”
Again he crawled into the hole. The watching young people saw the flash of the light, then they heard his voice sounding uncanny and far off. “The tunnel goes up, sort of like a waterfall. I reckon I can climb it all right, but don’t anybody try to follow me, lest-be I’m gone too long; more than fifteen minutes, say.”
The color left Mary’s face and she clung to Dora, but she tried not to let the others see how truly anxious she was.
“One minute.” Dick was looking at his watch.
Harry on his knees peered up into the darkness, but could not even see Jerry’s light.
“Five minutes,” Dick reported.
Mary asked tremulously, “That couldn’t be the cave of a mountain lion or a puma or a—”