“I know where there’s grapple hooks,” Bad suggested. “I’ll get them.” And away he went, to return in a few minutes with a tangled mass of cords and hooks stuffed under his coat. “Ready to go now?”
“Soon as I get a lantern. I hid one inside the hollow elm next to the road. Come on.”
So the two started out on their three-mile trudge, stopping to pick up the lantern and a lunch that was likewise hidden within the tree. “Divvies,” said Hal generously as he shoved this into his pocket.
It was not long before Mummy Cañon was in sight. They crossed the bridge and made their way slowly along the path toward the Screaming Cataract. Just before they came to the bridge they stopped. Bad sat down and began to pull off his shoes and stockings, but Hal merely stood looking at the water, that was boiling and foaming even along the shore.
“It can’t be very deep in there this side the falls,” he observed. “The gun could easy have fallen right in next to shore. Of course it could have gone the other way, but that ain’t likely, as the lion hit Miles in this direction. If it did go toward the middle we’ll never get it—unless we happen to grapple it.”
“What you going to do? Try to grapple it first or dive?”
“Or wade if it isn’t too deep. But first of all I’m going to take a look inside the cave. I want to see if that rock is wedged in hard like it looked from above.”
“What for? Suppose the lion’s in there!”
Hal laughed. “He got too good a scare in there yesterday to come back right away.”
“But why not find the gun first? What good’ll it do you if the rock isn’t tight. Come on, I’m going in.” And Bad continued taking off his clothes.