Ned laid a hand on Jimmie’s arm as he started away.
“If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’d much rather you remained on guard. You have keen eyes, and may be of great service here.”
“All right!” the boy said. “I’ll do anything you ask me to if you don’t leave me out of the game.”
“No danger of your getting into the dust heap,” Frank laughed. “How long have you been prowling about here?”
“Just a short time,” was the reply. “I remained in the tent until I thought Pat an’ Jack were asleep an’ then cut my lucky. Say, but the wind was blowin’ when I slid down the slope toward the lake.”
“It must be fierce up on the plateau,” Frank admitted. “Say,” he added, turning to Ned, “if you don’t mind, I’ll go on up the hill and help the boys with the aeroplane. It would be a tragedy if it should be destroyed now.”
“All right,” Ned said. “Get up there as soon as possible. The boys may be having trouble with the ’plane. And Jimmie,” he added, “suppose you keep an eye on the plateau? The lads may signal.”
“Too dark for that,” the boy replied, “but I’ll keep a sharp lookout, just the same. Go on and look over the man Frank found under the mountain.”
Frank moved on up the hill, clinging to trees as he advanced, and stooping low, even then, to escape the force of the wind, while Jimmie stationed himself in the opening and looked out on the lake. Ned disappeared in the cavern, and the boy saw his torch grow fainter as he climbed through the narrow opening left in the rock which had been thrown over the natural doorway.
It was getting late and the boy was sleepy, but he struggled manfully to keep his eyes open. Directly, however, he had no trouble in this regard, for he started up with a strange, acrid odor in his nostrils. The low-lying sky was aflame.