“Yes, I’ll give up. I’m too old to run away. They deserted me, and I’ll tell all I know. I’m getting tired of it anyhow. Being a criminal doesn’t pay. I’ll give up. Come on back and I’ll let out the girls. I’m sorry I locked them in, but I thought there was a chance to escape. I didn’t hurt them.”
“Girls! What girls?” gasped Walter.
“Well, I guess likely they’re of your party—from the bungalow,” said the old man, from whom all the spirit of rage and fighting seemed to have gone. “They’re in the secret room of the cave. Come on, Bombee, we’ll let them out.”
Wondering what it all meant, Walter and Paul followed the old man back into the cave. He seemed to know his way in the dark, though Walter had brought an extra flashlight from the bungalow, and now switched this on.
A little later the two boys, with the old man and the half-witted helper, entered the main cave where they found Jack running about half wild with excitement. He was shouting, and muffled cries—the voices of the girls—came in answer.
“Jack! You here!” cried Walter.
“Yes, and the girls are here too, but I can’t locate them, though I can hear them. They’re locked in some secret room. We must find it.”
“I’ll let them out,” said the old man. “I locked them in. Hi, Bombee, open the door.”
Once more the powerful helper took up the wooden club, or lever. He inserted it in the opening and the plank door, which could not, at first glance, be told from part of the cave sheathing, swung open. Then, tearful and disheveled from their efforts to escape, out rushed the girls.
“Oh Jack!”