The latter stooped and lifted the boy gently to his feet. Then he took him by the hand and led him down stream beyond the noise of the waterfall.
“Nonsense, Frank. If that’s his voice, he’s alive and very lusty, and we’re going to get him out as soon as we find out where he is. But what does all this mean?”
“No, no, that’s his ghost; I know it is,” insisted the boy still wildly. “Don’t let them hang me, Dr. Byrd! Don’t let them hang me! I won’t do it any more.”
“Won’t do what any more?”
“Threaten to clout anybody on the jaw,” sobbed Frank, who now for the first time that evening found it possible to shed tears, and they came in a flood. But at last he found his voice between sobs and continued.
“I kicked the plank and he fell down in the waterfall. He’s drownded; I know it. I saw him fall. Please, doctor, don’t let ’em hang me.”
“Get that out of your mind, my boy,” reassured Dr. Byrd. “Nobody’s going to hang you, whatever you did. They don’t hang boys of your age. But I don’t understand you.”
This reassurance that he was not in danger of the gallows gave the boy better control of himself and he was able to tell his story less hysterically. Through a series of pointed questions the doctor finally drew from him all the details regarding the discovery of the cave behind the cataract and Hal’s attempt to get into it, and then he announced:
“Well, the mystery is explained at last. Don’t worry, Frank. Hal isn’t drowned. He’s safe behind the waterfall and we’ll get him out as soon as we can.”
“But I saw him fall,” insisted the boy, his eyes staring wide with wonder.