"Then I'll go."
"Don't. For the sake of Heaven, and in the name of the most Holy Mother, of St. Peter in chains, of all the blessed Apostles and Martyrs, the glorious Saints and--"
"Blessed Botheration," cried Buttons, abruptly turning his back and preparing to descend.
"Are you in earnest, Buttons?" asked Dick. "Are you really going down?"
"Certainly."
"Oh, then I'll go too."
Upon this the others warned, rebuked, threatened, remonstrated, and begged. In vain. The Senator interposed the authority of years and wisdom. But to no purpose. With much anxiety he sat on the edge of the crater, looking for the result and expecting a tragedy.
The slope down which they ventured was covered with loose sand. At each step the treacherous soil slid beneath them. It was a mad and highly reprehensible undertaking. Nevertheless down they went--further and further. The kind heart of the Senator felt a pang at every step. His voice sounded mournfully through the rolling smoke that burst through a million crevices, and at times hid the adventurers from view. But down they went. Sometimes they slid fearfully. Then they would wait and cautiously look around. Sometimes the vapors covered them with such dense folds that they had to cover their faces.
"If they ain't dashed to pieces they'll be suffocated--sure!" cried the Senator, starting up, and unable to control his feelings. "I can't stand this," he muttered, and he too stepped down.
The guides looked on in horror. "Your blood will be on your own heads!" they cried.