"Mr. Lloyd," he said, with more geniality than one would have thought it possible for him to show, "let's call this thing off. We have made a mistake—a serious mistake in contemplating it. I have my reasons which I will tell you without reserve at our first opportunity. We will pay this man all the same, and consider the money a forfeit. But I beg of you—I am a serious man, no trifler—let's call this cave excursion off, right here and now."
His appeal seemed to impress Lloyd, but Frank Laniston broke out into his gruffly callow remonstrances, and the two young ladies set up a plaintive duet of reproach.
"Lloyd may back out, if he likes," said Frank, "but I will let no such show as this escape me."
"Oh, Mr. Jardine, how you shilly-shally," cried Lucia. "You agreed there was no objection if Mr. Lloyd would reconnoitre the place."
"Oh, Mr. Jardine, how you willy-nilly," cried Ruth. "You will have it that there's death and destruction in every earthly thing we propose. A serious man! Yes, as serious as the grave."
The two girls flung about in mock despair, and finally subsided, their arms interlocked, on one of the mossy ledges.
"I submit to Fate," said Lucia, "if nobody will take me in to see this cave I reckon I shall never have another chance."
"I submit to Fate," echoed Ruth. "If nobody will take me in to see this cave I shall try to lead him a life, the rest of my natural existence!"
And she fixed her eyes on her brother.
"Oh, come on, Lloyd," laughed Frank, in his gruff, callow fashion. "It's up to us."