“Keep on going till I tell you to stop,” cried Ned to the man. Then the Dreadnought Boy hastened once more to the edge of the cliff. He could have shouted with joy as he saw Herc being drawn steadily upward toward him. But he dared not shout or talk till he had Herc safely beside him.
“Stop!” he yelled suddenly to the guide as Herc’s red head bobbed within reach.
“Go ahead—whoa!—ahead a little—stop!”
Ned reached out his arms and Herc grabbed them. An instant later the Dreadnought Boys stood side by side on the lip of the crater in which Herc had so narrowly escaped immolation.
“Thank goodness, you’re all right!” cried Ned, wringing his chum’s hand frantically.
“Yes, and I’ve brought you a little souvenir from there, too,” said Herc with perfect calmness, thrusting his hand into his blouse. “It was while I was rubbering over looking for specimens that I lost my grip and went topsy-turvy down the cliff. So while I was down there I thought I’d bring some up with me.”
He thrust into Ned’s hand a bit of the glittering stone to which he had first called attention.
“That’s worth more than a million dollars,” he said solemnly.
“How’s that, Herc?”
“Well, it would take about ten times that to persuade me to go down there again.”