"Keep close to the wall and you will be all right. It won't break off short up to the wall. I've seen rock slides, but never anything quite like this. You see, the spirit of the Canyon was right," nodded Nance.
"Spirits? What spirits?" demanded Chunky. "Is this place haunted? Don't tell me it is. Haven't I got enough to worry me already without being chased by ghosts?
"Chased by goats?" shouted the Professor.
"Who said anything about goats?" retorted Stacy. "I said g-h-o-s-t-s, spooks, spookees or spookors or whatever you've a mind to call them."
"Oh, I hope you are not losing your mind, Stacy."
"Might as well lose my mind as to lose my life. Mind wouldn't be any use to me after I was dead, would it?"
"The storm is dying out," called Ned.
Tad started to step from under the shelf, Nance grasped and hauled him back. Just then a great boulder, weighing many tons, struck the rock just above their heads, then bounded off into the river, which it struck with a mighty splash. The contact with the rocks sent off a shower of sparks, a perfect rain of them.
"I—-I guess I need a guardian," said the lad rather weakly.
"Yes, you probably would have been killed by the smaller pieces that broke off," answered Nance. "Be content to stay where you are."