“Many simple-minded folks are strong,” answered Billie. “Why, some lunatics are noted for their strength—I once heard my father say so.”
They had to pass over an exceedingly rough rise of ground and then down through a hollow where the bushes grew close together. Here the walking was very uneven and Connie gave a sudden cry of pain.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Billie quickly, and came to a halt beside her classmate.
“I slipped into a hole and I—I guess I wrenched my ankle,” and Connie made a wry face.
“Can’t you go on?” questioned Vi.
“I—I guess so, but I’ll do a little limping,” was Connie’s reply.
“We’ll have to be careful,” warned Billie. “We don’t want to hurt ourselves if we can help it.”
After an hour of trudging through the snow they came at last to the twig-entwined entrance to Nick’s cave. Luckily the simpleton had beaten a sort of path through the snow from Three Towers to the cave—a fact which showed that he had made frequent visits to the school—or the girls almost surely could not have made the trip.
Nick pulled aside the twigs that concealed the entrance and dived inside, leaving the girls to follow as best they could.
But the girls did not follow—immediately. They were no cowards, but the sight of that yawning dark mouth was enough to make them hesitate. And besides, there was a simpleton at the other end of that dark passage, a simpleton who might be mad enough by this time to do any desperate thing.