"Don't let go! Don't let go!"
"I'm afraid I can't help it, my muscles won't stand the strain."
"Twist the rope about one leg and rest. You can hang there all day if you'll do that," snapped Tad. "How is it!"
"Yes, that works fine. My arms are all a-tremble. I didn't suppose I was so weak?"
"You are not used to it, that's all. That's right; come along. I'll strike a match to light the way."
Little by little and with frequent rests, Tom worked his way up and up until within reach of Tad's strong arm. The lad grasped him by the coat collar and pulled him clear of the hole, dropping him flat on his back safe and sound on the rock where he had previously dumped Walter.
"Good gracious!" breathed Mr. Phipps. "Boy, you must be made of cast iron. You—you pulled me up here with one hand."
"You're here, that's all we need worry about just now," answered Tad, breathing heavily. "Now, Miss, will you please tell us how to get out of here?"
"Come," she said, taking Tad by the hand. She turned away, the others following in single file.
Almost at once they emerged into a high-ceilinged cave, dimly lighted as if through stained glass windows.