"Milton. Oh, Milton."
No answer.
"Milton."
Silence still.
"Milton," I called once more. "Where are you?"
The answer was a scream, a scream that threatened to arrest the coursing blood in my veins—the sound seeming to issue from the very heart of the rock-mass there before me.
Chapter 15
THE ANGEL
The scream ceased as suddenly as it had come. I drew my revolver, snapped on the electric light, and, stooping low, looked into that spot where, a few moments before, Milton Rhodes had so suddenly and mysteriously disappeared.