“How much longer have we got to live?” I panted.
“Two minutes and fifteen seconds,” informed Scoop, who, of course, had followed me into the tree.
“I can’t die that quick,” I told him. “For I’m all out of wind.”
But he was squinting down at the dinosaur and seemed not to hear me.
“He’s got his trunk coiled around the tree,” he said. “Feel it shake! He’s pulling it up by the roots.”
“Wait a minute; wait a minute,” I said, motioning the other down. “You’re getting things muddled. A dinosaur hasn’t got a trunk. This must be a hairy elephant.”
“Climb higher,” cried Scoop. “He’s reaching for us.”
So up we went.
All of a sudden I heard some one go, “Hem-m-m!” And what do you know if there wasn’t another boy in the top of the tree! A stranger. About our age.
“You had me guessing,” he said, grinning [[4]]good-natured-like. “I thought at first you were crazy.”