He jumped up and ran back to the opening of the crevice and, there, to his horror, he found that a huge boulder had rolled down and now filled the entrance and exit of his hiding-place. It was indeed a hiding-place now!
Algy’s head went round dizzily, and he felt that he would swoon, only he managed to recollect, too, that he dared not give in to unconsciousness then, lest his friends pass by during that time and he would be helpless to shout to them to help free him.
Fear and desperation acted like spurs to his usual lack of physical control, and he felt relieved to learn that the fainting spell was passing away. Then he examined the rock in order to see if it might have left a crevice wide enough for his slim form to pass through. But no!
He drew in his breath and cramped his almost flat body against the rough sides of the senseless boulder, and he tore his natty clothes to shreds upon the jagged edges of the heartless obstruction. Then he sat down and began to cry childishly, complaining to the silence of the dark cave the reasons he had for cursing such an outlandish trip—but he did not dare to use any strong language in his extremity, because he was not certain whether it would send him to limbo or not. Hence he remained neutral by merely giving utterance to what he wished to do under these trying circumstances. Even in this predicament, Algy felt that he might be overheard by cultured persons, and he flattered himself that he was acting up to the nicest form of politeness.
Loneliness and dark solitude are not conducive to polite behavior, however, as Algy learned after he had been captive in the small cavelet for some time; still no one passed by on the other side of that naughty rock!
“I’d blast you to atoms with my vengeance, if I had the means!” shouted Algy, to the insensible fragment of cliff before him.
Then he ran up and began pounding it with his doubled fists; but these futile taps merely scratched his flesh and bruised his knuckles, so he desisted and retired again.
After a few minutes,—seemingly hours to the frantic young stowaway,—he ran up to the rock again and strove mightily to shove it ever so little out of its bed, in order to allow him a bit more space by which he might manage to squeeze past, but the stubborn obstacle had no intention of giving way—even ever so little.
“Oh, you mean, nasty, old thing!” screamed Algy, striking at the sharp face of the boulder again and again. “If I was out of here I’d blow you to bits with a ton of dynamite, so there!” Then he sat down upon the hard rock-floor and began to weep helplessly.
“Why was I ever beguiled into coming to this awful country, where there is no pleasure or peace for a highly cultured young man? Oh, why do I love Dodo Alexander as I do, when I’d rather be heart-free to go about with my friends at Colorado Springs, instead of having a slow death in this cave?”