“Follow him and see where he is hiding,” Gale returned.
Slowly and with the utmost caution the girls crept forward. Once when they came to a turn in the passage they were unprepared for it and stumbled into the wall. Thereafter as they walked along, Phyllis kept one guiding hand against the wall. Suddenly her hand came in contact with something round and small set in a large niche in the wall.
“Hold on, I’ve found something, Gale,” she said. “I wish we had a flashlight.”
“What is it?”
“I guess it’s a candle. It is a candle, and it’s been lit recently, too, because the end is still warm and the wax isn’t hard yet.”
“Keep it, maybe we’ll find some matches,” Gale laughed.
They came to a turn in the passage and for a moment a little speck of light showed ahead of them. But suddenly it flickered and died out.
“I’ll bet it was another candle,” Phyllis whispered. “But if that was the man we are after who blew it out, he is awf’ly far away from us.”
Gale stood still and Phyllis stopped also. Over and about them was silence. As they stood there they seemed to imagine all sorts of sounds, footsteps, whispers from unseen antagonists, scurrying of mice in the passageway.
“I don’t like this,” Phyllis said nervously. “Let’s go back to camp and get Tom or Jim.”