Frank paused at the entrance and turned back. His matches were about gone, and so he took a burning stick from the fire, added two dry faggots to it, waited until the three burst into flame, and then entered the cave.
To gather up the half-burned matches which had been scattered over the floor was the work of only a moment.
“Now you’ll have to open the door, if you leave it as I found it,” Jack said, looking in from the mouth. “Pat will help you.”
“Come on in, both of you,” Frank directed.
“Not me!” cried Jack. “I hear bones rattling!”
The boys thought he was joking at first, but it soon appeared that he was in sober earnest, so Pat and Frank, by exerting their entire strength, managed to open the door without his assistance.
“You’re afraid of the dark!” Pat taunted, as the boys gathered around the fire again.
“I’m not half as afraid of the dark as you are of an aeroplane,” Jack replied. “If I ever see you going up in a ’plane, I’ll go in there alone.”
“Don’t you ever forget that,” Pat grinned.
“Oh, I’ll be game, all right,” was the reply.