"We're caught!" he cried.
"H—-ho—-how?"
"The tree has closed the opening to the cave. Now we are in a nice pickle."
Stacy was speechless. He held a burning match in his hand until the match burned up to his finger, whereat Chunky dropped the match with an exclamation.
"I—-I'll tell you what let's do. Let's dig through the roots. We can do it. Come on."
Tad laid a restraining hand on the fat boy's arm.
"We won't do that just yet. This may have been an accident. Those stones may have slipped off. I am inclined to think that is what has happened. If so, we don't want to leave any clues—-"
"I'd rather leave clues than to leave my dead body in here," wailed
Chunky.
"Buck up! Don't show a yellow streak, Chunky!" commanded Tad sharply.
"I'm not yellow. But I know enough to know when I've got enough. I know I've got enough of this bandit-chasing business. I ought to have known better than to go out with you. They think I can't keep out of trouble. I can keep out of trouble all right if other folks don't lead me into it. Now see what a fix you've got me into, Tad Butler!"