"Yes. Who are you?"
"You wouldn't know if I told you, I said. Keep quiet and speak only in answer to my questions."
"All right. Got anything loose about your person—I mean food, man-sized food, not canary-bird rations such as those bandits have been doling out to me?"
"You can't have anything now. After we have gotten away from here I will try to dig up a snack for you. Silence!"
For the next several minutes neither the prisoner nor his mysterious friend uttered a word. Supper was ready for the mountaineers, but, before sitting down to it, one of them walked over to the prisoner and stood peering down at him. Hippy's heart almost stopped beating, so intent was he on listening for the breathing of the man behind him and from his fear that his mysterious friend might be discovered.
No such emergency arose, nor did he hear the breathing he was listening for.
After satisfying himself that the captive was safe, the mountaineer returned to the fire and sat down to his supper.
Hippy felt a slight tug on the rope that bound him, then its pressure about his waist was released.
"Steady, now," warned that even voice behind him. "Crawl on all fours."
The rescuer placed a hand on Hippy's shoulder and guided him slowly, cautiously, every movement forward threatening to draw a groan from the released captive.