“I wish I had mine now,” Phyllis wailed. “A lot of good it does us in my slicker.”
“I’ve got mine,” Gale reminded her, “but we haven’t seen anything to shoot at yet.”
“Why do you suppose he, Relentless Rudolph, is trying to scare us so?” was Phyllis’ next question.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Gale answered. “Unless he is trying to scare us so we will be afraid to send the police after him.”
“Not much chance,” Phyllis said indignantly. “I’d like to lead the police here, myself. If this cave didn’t give me the jitters,” she added. “Let’s get going--some place.”
Hand in hand they started off again. This passage had a more hollow sound than the others. Their footsteps, for they no longer bothered to tread silently, sounded like thunder in their ears. The ground was getting more uneven and suddenly they bumped ignominiously into the wall.
“That’s the end of that,” Phyllis said in a tired voice. “We’ll wear ourselves out before long.”
They went back the way they had come and when they came to the cross passages, chose one going in the opposite direction. Their steps were lagging, and their eyes burned from straining them to catch one glimpse of daylight.
“Phyllis! Look! The entrance!” Gale cried joyously.
“Hurray! Let’s run!” Phyllis said eagerly.