“We talk as though we were perfectly sure of being rescued.” Blanche laughed shakily.
“Never despair is our—”
Of a sudden the two clutched each other desperately. From the depths of the passage came the long, terrifying howl that had so greatly unnerved Blanche.
“It’s got in somehow! It’s coming after us!” shrieked Blanche.
“Shh!” warned Ruth. Bolt upright, she listened with all her might.
Again came the cry, this time a little louder. To Blanche’s amazement a high clear call of “Hoo-oo!” burst from Ruth’s lips. Instantly it was answered by the oncoming intruder.
“It’s—not an animal!” Ruth was half laughing, half crying. “It’s a man’s voice. It’s good old Blue Wolf.” Ruth had leaped to her feet, and was stumbling toward the direction from which the voice came. “Blu-e W-o-l-f!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.
A patter of feet, a flare of light that hurt her eyes, and behind that light the stalwart figure of the Indian. With a glad cry, Ruth forgot dignity and catching him by the arm, clung to him joyfully.
“I knew you’d find us!” she repeated over and over. “You said you would, you know, and now you have.”
“Me find.” For a brief instant, Blue Wolf also forgot his dignity. Very lightly he laid his hand on Ruth’s brown head. “You Blue Wolf friend. You lost, he feel bad. Now find, feel happy. You come both now. Go quick. All wait by lake for you. You follow me close. Bad hole down there.”