“I won’t leave you, Darry. But can’t you think which is the right way out?”
“I think this way straight in front of us, but I am not sure.”
“Have you any paper at all in your pocket?”
“Yes, the paper they gave me in Sunday-school to-day.”
“Let me have it.”
The boy did so, and again our hero made tapers and then lit one. He looked around on all sides and espied three pieces of wood.
“I’ll split these up with my pocketknife,” he said. “They will then last longer.”
He was as good as his word, and soon had one of the tiny torches ablaze. Then they continued along one of the tunnels until they came to another cross opening.
“I—I don’t think this is the way,” faltered Darry, looking around blankly. “I don’t believe I was ever here before.”
“We are going upward,” answered Frank. “It seems to me that ought to be a good sign. Sooner or later we are bound to come out on top of the ground.”