"Supposing we can't get loose?" remonstrated Tom. "We may starve to death!"
"That will be your lookout. But I reckon you'll get loose sooner or later, although we've bound you pretty tight."
"Can I have a drink before you go?" asked Sam, who was dry.
"Don't give 'em a drop, Uncle Sid!" cried Tad. "They don't deserve it."
"Oh, they can have a drink," said Sid Merrick. "I'd give a drink even to a dog," he added, and passed around some water the boys had in a bottle.
Less than fifteen minutes later the three Rover boys found themselves alone in the forest. The Merrick party had lit their acetylene gas lamp and the lantern and struck out once more along the trail which they supposed would take them to the treasure cave. The boys heard them for a short distance, and then all became dark and silent around them.
"Well, now we are in a pickle and no mistake," remarked Sam, with a long sigh.
"That ghost business proved a boomerang," was Tom's comment. "It's a pity we didn't dig out for the shore, signal to the steam yacht, and tell father and the others about what was going on."
"There is no use crying over spilt milk," said Dick. "The first thing to do is to get free."
"Yes, and that's real easy," sniffed Tom. "I am bound up like a bale of hay to be shipped to the South Pole!"