"I don't think," I observed, "that they could have gone right into the rocks: either Dillingham, as he made his way here to the girl, would have seen them, or Boileau would have found the entrance to the way that they took."
"At any rate," Rhodes answered, "we may take that, for the moment, as a working hypothesis, and so we will turn our attention now to another quarter. If we fail there—though, remember, ice moves, Bill—we will then give these rocks a complete and careful examination with the object of settling the question whether the great Boileau really did see everything that is to be found here."
"And so—" I began.
"And so?" he queried.
"Then they—or it—disappeared by way of the ice."
"Precisely," Rhodes nodded: "by way of the ice. And now you see what I meant when I reminded you that the ice here moves."
"Yes; I believe that I do, at last. Great Heaven, Milton, what can this thing mean?"
"That is for us to seek to discover. And so we will give our attention to these crevasses."
He moved to the edge of one of those big fissures that I have mentioned, the upper one, and peered down into the bluish depths of it. I followed and stood beside him.
"It couldn't have been into this one," he said.