He was sore and lame from the effects of his fall.
“My God!” he exclaimed. “Where am I, and what has happened?”
Then he remembered that he had fallen into a hole in the ground.
The rest was blank.
For aught he knew he might be at the center of the earth. In vain he tried to collect his scattered senses.
And thus he was engaged when suddenly he heard a sliding, scraping motion above him, and a voice suddenly cry out in alarm:
“Hol’ on up dar, Marse Frank! I done believe dat rope am a breakin’!”
Then there was a snapping sound, a yell of terror and a thud, and he felt a cloud of dust in his face, and knew that some person lay beside him.
It was Pomp.
Harding could not fail to recognize the voice, and cried: