“Then it must be Gilroy!” Jimmie chuckled. “I guess he got sufficiently frightened to take a trip on our aerial elevator.”
“It’s Gilroy all right,” Ned whispered, in a moment, with a faint suspicion of a chuckle. “And if he hasn’t got the rope with him, I’m a goat!”
“I never heard of a man sliding down a rope and bringing the cord with him!” Jimmie laughed. “He must be a wonder!”
Directly the trembling voice of the fat confidential clerk was heard.
“Boys, boys!” he whispered.
“Right here!” Ned answered.
The uncertain figure shot toward the boys as if propelled from the muzzle of a gun. When he reached the spot where they stood, he collapsed utterly and lay groaning on the rocky floor of the entrance to the old channel.
“My God!” he cried. “My God!”
“What’s going on up there?” asked Ned.
“Murder!” whimpered the fat clerk. “There’s murder going on up there!”