So they waited in total darkness while Coyote departed on his scouting errand. It was a long time before he came back. When he did he was chuckling to himself.
“They’re the worst scared bunch you ever saw,” he said, “I laid behind a rock and listened to ther talk. They think that at any moment some spirits or ghosts is likely to pop out of this hole. They likewise opine that we shall never be seen again because the bogies in the mountain have gobbled us up.”
“But what good does that do us?” asked Jack.
“I dunno,” admitted Pete, “except that it sounded funny to hyar a bunch of grown men so scared of spooks.”
“Light up a torch, Ralph,” said Jack the next minute, “it makes me feel creepy to sit here in the dark.”
Ralph reached into his pocket for the bundle of sulphur matches. As he drew his hand out, his fingers, moistened with perspiration, gleamed greenly with the phosphorus which had adhered to them.
“Gee, look at that stuff blaze!” he exclaimed, “you’d think I was on fire!”
But Jack was on his feet doing a sudden ecstatic war dance.
“Hooray! Hooray! I’ve got it!” he cried.
“The extinguisher?” inquired Walt anxiously.