"That's the ticket," said Stone, and the two put Frank's plan into execution.
Beyond the light cast by the torches they paused. Darkness had descended now, in truth. Not even the shadowy bulk of the big rock before the entrance to the cave could be distinguished.
"Maybe we're making ourselves nervous over nothing," said Stone. "I feel kind of foolish. After all, what could happen? That old cowman pal of yours looks pretty capable."
"He is, too," said Frank. "Just the same, I feel we ought to be cautious. If Tom's all right when we reach the cave, well and good. But if he isn't———"
"You're right, kid," said Stone. "I'm no more of a coward than the next fellow. But if Morales and Von Arnheim by any chance gained the upper hand and got their clutches on me, I'd hear the birdies sing."
Frank had been thinking rapidly.
"Look here," he said, "isn't there some way we can sneak up there to find out if matters are all right or not? Suppose Tom has been overcome. We wouldn't stand much chance approaching the cave by the regular entrance." He paused and again stared upward. "We've been gone a considerable time," he said nervously. "You'd think if he were all right, Tom would have called to find out what is delaying us."
"Tell you what," said Stone, "I've got a little private path to the top of the cave where the antenna is located. It isn't much more than a goat track. But we'll have to be goats. Never been up it in the dark, but I think I can make it. Are you game to follow me?"
"Certainly," said Frank, "if it will be of any advantage for us to do so."
"Well, there's a fissure through the rock down into the cave. That's where the Germans that put in the radio plant made their hook-up. We can listen there, and maybe hear something to guide us."