“Don’t crawl clear through—you might not be able to get back!” Florence’s voice was full of anxiety. “Let me hold your feet while you reach for the flashlight.” Without waiting for an answer she grasped Jo Ann’s feet firmly.
Slowly then Jo Ann wriggled still farther into the hole. The farther she crawled, the nearer Florence was pulled to the opening. With a sudden jerk Jo Ann reached over to get her flashlight. In her effort she threw Florence against the pile of debris and stirred up the fine dust, which set both of them to coughing and struggling for air.
“Hurry up—and—crawl—out,” begged Florence between gasps.
“Coming—this instant. Pull me—back. I—can’t—make it—by myself.”
Florence laid down her flashlight and began pulling at Jo Ann’s feet.
“Pull harder,” Jo Ann grunted.
“I’m pulling—as hard as I can.”
“I haven’t budged. Pull again—and I’ll wiggle as hard as I can. These sharp stones hurt like fury.”
Once more Florence braced herself and pulled with all her strength. The next moment one of Jo Ann’s oxfords slipped off, and Florence was sent sprawling backward on the floor. In the cloud of dust that arose, Florence caught a glimpse of Jo Ann’s feet disappearing in the hole.
But Jo Ann and Florence were not the only ones who were having their troubles. Peggy, too, was having her share. No sooner had the girls’ lights disappeared than she began to get restless. Everything looked so much more gloomy and alarming in the faint glow of one flashlight. When she threw its rays directly in front, they penetrated the darkness only a short distance and cast eerie shadows on the walls near by.