“But what about his calling for Dirck to help him?” said Lennox eagerly.
“I did not hear him call for Dirck to help him,” said Roby contemptuously.
“No, but we did,” cried Lennox, as he went on tapping the granite blocks with the butt of his revolver, curiously watched the while by the prisoner, who was in complete ignorance of the fact that Dickenson, who stood half behind, was intently watching him in turn.
“Give it up, Lennox,” said Captain Roby. “You are doing no good there.”
“Burning!” cried Dickenson so suddenly that every one turned and stared.
“What is burning?” cried Captain Edwards.
“Drew Lennox is.”
“Burning?”
“Hang it all, sir! have you forgotten all your childish games?” cried Dickenson impatiently. “‘Hot boiled beans,’ you know. Lennox is seeking, and he’s burning.”
“Am I?” cried Lennox excitedly, and the grim faces of the men thrown up by the lanterns grew eager and excited too.