“You’ve done it now,” cried Joe. “Why didn’t you make your handkerchief fast to his collar? He’s gone home.”
“Think so?” said Gwyn, blankly.
“Yes; that’s certain enough; and we’re just as badly off as ever.”
“No,” said Gwyn, in a tone full of confidence; “Grip found us, and he’ll come back again for certain.”
“But we shall have to stop where we are, perhaps for another day or two.”
“Oh, no, he will not be long,” said Gwyn; but there was less confidence in his tones, and he stopped short, and began to call and whistle, with the sounds echoing loudly along the tunnel-like place; but for some moments all was silent, and Joe gave vent to a groan.
“Oh, why did you let him go, Ydoll? It was madness.”
“Well,” said the lad, bitterly, “you were as bad as I—you never said a word about holding him.”
“No, I never thought of it,” said Joe, with a sigh. “But how horrid, after thinking we were all right!”
“Yet it is disappointing,” said Gwyn, gloomily; “but he’ll soon come back when he finds that we are not following him; and even if he went right back to them, they’d send him in again.”