"What is it?" demanded the Professor breathlessly.
"It's Master Walt," snapped the guide. "Stand still. Don't move an inch. I'm going back for a torch," he commanded, leaping by them on his way to the camp fire.
"Where—is—he?" stammered the Professor, not observing that the guide had left them.
"Down there, sir," explained Tad, pointing to the ledge of rock over which Walter had fallen.
"I know—I know—but——"
"I heard him call. Walt's alive! Walt's alive! But I don't know how we are going to get him."
The shout of joy that had framed itself on the lips of Ned Rector and
Stacy Brown died out in an indistinct murmur.
"Is it possible! What are we going to do, Thomas—how are we to rescue the boy?"
Lige Thomas made no reply to the question as he ran past them, and, dropping down, leaned over the cliff, holding the torch he had brought far out ahead of him.
"See anything?" asked Tad tremulously, creeping to his side.