Their eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom of the interior and slowly things were taking form within.
Dick strained his eyes in the direction of the sound. "I see it—there are two of them. Do you suppose they're men, or—"
"Or what?" asked Doc.
"Lions, or something," suggested Dick, weakly.
Doc felt in his pants' pocket and brought out a knife, but his fingers were trembling so that he had difficulty in opening the blade. "It's getting up!" he whispered.
They sat with their eyes rivetted upon the dark bulk that moved against the back wall of the hut. It seemed very large and entirely ominous, though as yet it had taken on no definite form that they might recognize.
"It—it's comin' toward us," chattered Doc. "I wish it was a lion! I wouldn't be as scairt if I knew it was a lion as I am not knowing what it is. Gosh, it might be anything!"
"Here comes the other one," announced Dick. "Say, I believe they're men. I'm getting so I can see better in this old hole. Yes, they are men."
"Then they must be prisoners, too," said Doc.
"Just the same you better get your knife out, too," said Dick.