“No, no, Mas’ Don. Back! Back! Don’t come down.” Then, as he hung, there came the panting and noise of a terrible struggle far below.
Chapter Sixteen.
Prisoners again.
Don’s grasp tightened on the rope, and as he lay there, half on, half off the slope, listening, with the beads of perspiration gathering on his forehead, he heard from below shouts, the trampling of feet and struggling.
“They’ve attacked Jem,” he thought. “What shall I do? Go to his help?”
Before he could come to a decision the noise ceased and all was perfectly still.
Don hung there thinking.
What should he do—slide down and try to escape, or climb back?