“Stop it? Why, man alive, what are you raving about? How are you going to stop a snake-scale flood like that?”
Larry did not reply. He had borrowed Dick’s field-glass and was intently scrutinizing the surface of the slide. Getting no answer from his companion, Dick broke out impatiently.
“What are you looking at?”
“I was just wondering what made those big dents in the surface down there: you can see them without the glass—down by that big rock that makes a sort of island in the slide—over a little to the left of the rock.”
Dick followed directions and saw.
“Sort of funny,” he remarked. “Looks as if there’d been a slip there; or rather three or four of them.”
Larry buttoned his coat.
“I’m going to swing down yonder and get a little closer peek at those places. Want to risk it with me?”
“Surest thing you ever heard of,” was the instant rejoinder; and together they made a roundabout and rather hazardous descent of the cliff and so came at its shale-bed foot.