“This is all right! There’s a turn here, and the going is good. Come on in, you fellows. Mighty fine in here!” he went on.
Ned and Harry, the latter now fairly free from pain, made their way slowly to where Jimmie sat hunched up against the side of the wall.
“Cripes!” he exclaimed, “what makes it so wet in here?”
Then Harry explained how the old channel had been cleared of water.
“The boys must have been going some,” Jimmie put in. “But look here,” he went on, “suppose that old crevice you are talking about should clog or something of that kind? We’d be in a nice mixup down here, wouldn’t we?”
“Judging from the noise the water was making in getting out of the pool,” Ned suggested, “I don’t think there’s much show for the channel clogging. Our only danger from water is that outlaws may dam the present current and flood this channel once more. I don’t think there are any outlaws within a mile of us, but still, there’s always a chance of their having been summoned by the boy you saw this afternoon.”
“Look here!” Jimmie observed. “The boy they saw this afternoon is probably the one who came to the camp and told us where you were. I don’t believe he’d bring any outlaws here.”
“Not unless the outlaws desired to bag us all in one bunch,” Harry added with a smile. “That may be the idea, you know.”
“My,” chuckled Jimmie, “wouldn’t Gilroy throw a fit if the outlaws should come and find him sitting there holding the rope? I honestly believe that he’d drop dead with fright.”
“I believe I’ll take a walk—or a crawl, rather—out to the mouth of this damp old aqueduct and see what the fat confidential clerk is doing,” suggested Ned.