"How did you get here? What happened?"
"Wait a little while," begged Greg. "I've just got to spit all the oakum taste out of my mouth before I want to do much talking."
By this time they were at the tunnel that led outside.
"Hullo, Tom!" called Dick through the tunnel.
"Hullo yourself, and see how you like it!" came from outside.
"Tom," cried Dick joyously, "we've found Greg! We're bringing him with us."
"Can't he bring himself?" demanded Reade. Then, in a suddenly scared voice:
"Is he—dead?"
"Dead sore on oakum as a food," laughed Dan, grinning broadly.
Dick, holding the light, was piloting Greg through the tunnel. In a few moments all were outside. Tom and Harry danced a jig for sheer joy.