CHAPTER XIV
Stoutheart
“W-wedged!... Wedged!”
Now–now it was another word which jabbered faintly in the dark fissure’s mouth! A girl caught it–or thought she did.
“Wedged!” she echoed wildly. “Caught! Oh, maybe–maybe–there’s nothing in there but Ruddy himself!”
“Maybe–so!” Stud panted heavily while, across an inner, gaping hollow, the next words took a giant stride to his lips: “Anyhow–I’m going up!”
“Oh–Studley!” But beyond this one faint cry, Jessie, stanch little partner,–the girl behind the lines,–said no more to hinder him now, as she watched the scout detach his little lamp from his hatbrim and hook it on to his khaki breast.
With it glowing there, a headlight for his gallant heart, Stud set himself to climb. Standing upon the shoulders of two brother scouts, in his belt a club snatched from one of them, he reached the lowest point of the tapering fissure.
“Ha! There he goes, in spite of his teeth,” tremored a younger boy.
“His teeth aren’t chattering!” Pem’s eyes–lightning-blue–hurled back the charge.