“Dig in! Dig in!” gasped Andy, clutching vainly at the slippery clay beneath him.
“Dig in, yourself,” spluttered his twin.
He clutched at a slight projection, but the clay came away in his hand, and down he rolled over and over with his brother close behind him. They reached another ledge of clay, which broke beneath their sudden weight, and then on and on they went, bringing up at last in a mass of soft clay but a few yards from the sand that lined the water’s edge.
“Well, if that isn’t the dog’s false teeth!” gasped Andy, when he could speak. “We came down in a hurry, didn’t we?”
“And we saved a lot of time, I’ll say,” murmured Randy. Then he held up his hands. “Just look at these paws, will you?”
“Never mind the paws,” retorted his brother, and then began to grin. “Look at your clothing, will you? It’s all the colors of the rainbow.”
“Humph! Look at yourself. You look as if you’d been sleeping on a painter’s palette.”
The two boys arose and brushed themselves off as well as they were able. Then they limped down to the water’s edge, where they washed their faces and hands. By this time the others had come down by way of the regular trail and joined them.