“The nearest village,” repeated Kearns musingly; “I take it that would be Averill, or would Patchley be nearer?”
“I should say Averill, decidedly.”
“Well; let’s be off, then, and find the main road,” suggested Kearns. “This must be the way, I’m pretty sure.” Picking up the blankets and rugs in which they had been wrapped, he tossed them through the entrance to the cave and started off.
“Is it safe, do you think, for us to leave those things there?” asked the Professor.
“What else can we do with them?” answered Kearns. “Let the Doctor attend to that. We’ll notify him, of course, as soon as we get back. He had no business to leave us in that fashion, anyway!”
“I quite agree with you as to that,” assented the Professor. “Tired out with our walk, we must have fallen asleep as we smoked and he calmly left us.”
“By George!” exclaimed Kearns, with a sudden start; “I wonder if the Doctor has been up to any of his pranks.”
“Pranks!” repeated the Professor in astonishment.
“Yes; putting people to sleep. I wonder if this sleep of ours was of his contriving.”
The Professor contracted his brows thoughtfully.