“Mark!” he called out. “Are you below there?”
“I am,” was the answer.
“Are you much hurt?”
“My ankle got a bad twist and I was almost smothered by some dirt covering me.”
The professor said no more just then but tried to look over the edge of the cliff into the hollow. In this, however, he was unsuccessful.
But Professor Strong was not a man to be daunted easily. When out on hunting expeditions he had at various times, gotten into positions of extreme peril, and he was used to taking risks. Measuring the distance to the dirt hill in front of the cliff, he took a leap and landed in safety. He was careful not to go too close to the hole so there was no caving-in as there had been when Mark descended.
“Now, then, I’ll see if I can help you out,” said the professor, when he caught sight of the youth resting on top of the dirt that had last fallen.
“Be careful, or you’ll slide down, too,” answered Mark. “That bank is awfully treacherous.”
Leaving the vicinity of the opening Professor Strong began to hunt for something by which Mark might be hauled up. But nothing was at hand.
“Have you found him?” came from Frank.