“Confound it!” he exclaimed, chagrined and angered; “if I could have passed that spot I should have reached the top.”
He wondered whether it was worth while to try it again, but decided there was no reason to expect success. Even if he could climb beyond the place of his mishap, new obstacles would check him.
“As it was, I fell as far as I care to tumble; that is about all I’ve been doing,” he grimly added, “since that plaguy buck took a shy at me. If a fellow could only fall upward, there would be a chance for me.”
For the first time since his slip he asked himself how this affair was to end. He was sure he had nothing to fear as to the final outcome.
“Dick will wait where he is, if he gets on the track of Bunk; he will signal me to go to him, and when I don’t come, he will head this way. He knows the spot near enough to come within hail and the rest will be easy.”
Once more his thoughts reverted to Bunk. While the fellow might keep out of his reach, so long as he believed Harvey was trying to prevent his trip with Professor Morgan, and while he undoubtedly would resent such interference, it would be far different when he learned that Harvey was in trouble. The dusky youth would abandon everything and rush to his rescue. None knew this better than Harvey Hamilton himself, and he wondered whether there was not some way of apprising Bunk of his dilemma.
“At any rate, it’s worth trying,” was the conclusion which he proceeded straightway to act upon.
Instead of whistling as he had done before, Harvey shouted the name of his friend and added in the loudest voice at his command the emphatic declaration that he was in a hole and wished Bunk to come and help him out. The appeal, if heard, was certain to bring results, but the truth forced itself upon the supplicant, that the voice of a person at the bottom of a well thirty feet or so in depth cannot be made to carry far. Bunk might be within two or three hundred yards and yet not hear him.
Harvey kept up his appeals until he grew hoarse, but without bringing the rescue for which he so ardently hoped. Help was beyond reach and he must depend upon other means to free himself from prison.
If you can imagine his situation, you will understand how hard it was for him to stay idle. To fold one’s hands and wait for the assistance that is likely to be delayed for an indefinite time, is impossible for a lad in the vigor of health and strength. By this time he had formed the conviction that Bunk was nowhere near. It was the brother who had gone to the right spot to find him.