“But, Joe, you must stand up—you must!” cried Dorothy frantically. “Come, try again. I’ll hold you. You must try, Joe. They will be back in a minute! Never mind how much it hurts, stand up!”
With Dorothy’s aid Joe got to his feet again slowly and painfully and stood there, swaying, an arm about his sister’s shoulders, the other hand clenched tight against the damp, rocky wall of the cave.
The pain was so intense as the blood flowed back into his tortured feet that his face went white and he clenched his teeth to keep from crying out.
“Do you think you can walk at all, dear?” asked Dorothy, her own face white with the reflection of his misery. “If you could manage to walk a little way! We have horses in the woods and it would be harder for them to find us there. Try, Joe dear! Try!”
“I guess I can make it now, Sis,” said Joe from between his clenched teeth. “If Tavia will help a little too—on the other side.”
“I guess so!” cried Tavia with alacrity, as she put Joe’s other arm about her shoulders and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Now something tells me that the sooner we leave this place behind the healthier it will be for all of us.”
“Hush! What’s that?” cried Dorothy, and they stood motionless for a moment, listening.
“I didn’t hear anything, Doro,” whispered Tavia. “It was just nerves, I guess.”
They took a step toward the entrance of the cave, Joe still leaning heavily upon the two girls.
A horse whinnied sharply and as they paused again, startled, a sinister shadow fell across the narrow entrance to the cave. They shrank back as substance followed shadow and a man wedged his way into the cave.