They waited for perhaps half an hour, and then, as they experienced no further signs of another quake, they started down the decline before them.
Down they went, until they struck the level of the stream that emerged from the Devil’s Kingdom.
Once here, they had no difficulty in discovering footprints made by somebody who had been there before them.
“Hurrah!” shouted the Yankee. “I knew I was right. We’ll find Leo and Dick sure—see if we don’t! These are the prints of the gal’s feet, who brought Leo here.”
His companions were forced to admit that he was right, and so they followed the trail along the bank of the stream until the falls were reached, and then another descent had to be made.
There was nothing to hinder them from going down, so they did so at once.
Andrew Jones produced a torch, and was just about to light it, when Haypole caught him by the arm in an excited manner, and exclaimed:
“Gosh-ding it, look there! It looks like a political torchlight procession, don’t it?”
He pointed to a spot on their left as he spoke.
About three miles distant they plainly observed a band of men, carrying torches, emerge from the mouth of a cavernous passage.