“What shall we do?” faltered Terry, becoming more and more alarmed.
“If we only had some water,” murmured Sim, “we could——”
The sound of approaching footsteps caused the girls to glance up. A man was hastening toward them through the aisles of the black trees of the orchard.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Arden as she let the inert head fall back on the cushion of leaves.
“What is he saying?” asked Terry.
“Nothing yet,” replied Arden, still watching closely the face of the unconscious man as well as she could in the fast gathering gloom.
“Who is coming?” asked Sim, for the approaching footsteps were pounding nearer.
No one answered.
Then they heard the voice of Tom Scott as he stirred on awakening from the stupor of unconsciousness.
“My head!” he murmured. “It—hurts. But it was so black and it came at me so quickly——”