"I tell you, that was a narrow squeak!" exclaimed Tom, removing the rope.
"You're right," chimed in Jim. "As close as I ever want."
"Did you fall in a well?" asked Roger, wondering why the men were so damp.
"Indeed we did, my boy," answered Tom. "And it was a salt well, of the saltiest water I ever tasted. Pah! My mouth is full of it yet."
"Then there isn't any salt mine down there," went on Roger in a disappointed tone, his interest in that matter overshadowing, for a moment, his joy at having helped save the men.
"Nary a bit of a salt mine," said Tom. "But I'll back the salt lake down there, against most anything outside of Utah. Hey, Jim?"
"That's right," assented his companion, wiping the salt water from his eyes.
"How did it happen?" asked Adrian.
"Now you're talkin'," said Tom. "We were diggin' away, or rather I was, and Jim was up above. I'd got about as deep as where Mr. Vanter said we ought to strike rock salt, and I was givin' some hearty blows with my pick, when, all on a sudden, the pick goes through with a pop, jest like when you stick a pin in one of them red balloons you buy at the circus. First thing I knew I was up to my neck in water saltier 'n' any ever tasted. Wow! But I didn't know what I'd struck, the Atlantic Ocean or the Dead Sea."
"I guess it was a little of both," interposed Jim.