"Right in my pocket."
"Good!"
"What good is it when I can't get at it?"
"If you can, we have only this chap Joe to deal with." The flame of the candle caught Frank's eye. He had an inspiration. "If only I could just get these ropes off my wrists!" he said.
Frank edged over toward the candle. Then, with his back to the flame, he lowered his arms until the cord that bound his wrists was within an inch of the wick.
A candle does not throw out much heat, but that little flame seared Frank's wrists and he had to clench his teeth to keep from crying out with the pain.
He could hold the rope in the flame for a few moments only, and then he withdrew it. When the scorching pain had somewhat subsided, he tried again. The flame licked at the heavy cord, weakening it strand by strand.
"Look out, Frank," warned Joe.
Frank scrambled back to the corner.
He was just in time. Heavy footsteps in the passage announced the approach of their guard, who came to the entrance, looked at them sullenly for a moment, then turned away again. He went back to the outer cave.