Captain Hager did not speak for a long while. Then he muttered: “The siphon! I told that boy to wash it out of his mind, but I always knew he’d try it someday. The thought of it always was a challenge and a plague to him.”
“What do you think we should do?” Judy asked desperately. “Notify the authorities?”
“If he’s gone through the siphon, he’s beyond help,” the old man answered. “There’s no man living in this community, who would risk his life to try to force that tunnel of water. Either he’ll get back on his own, or like his father before him, he’ll be heard of no more.”
“But supposing he didn’t attempt the siphon,” Kathleen interposed. “Maybe he’s trapped somewhere below the surface by a fall of rock. Would the rangers check, do you think?”
“They might make up a search party,” the old man conceded. “But who would lead it? That cave is as simple as A-B-C for a skipper that knows the layout. The rangers have their maps, but what do they know of Hager’s Hole? Now if I were ten years younger—”
“It wouldn’t be fair to ask you,” Judy said. “You’re not feeling well and your rheumatism—”
“Who says I’m not feeling well?” Captain Hager growled. “Next to good salt air, there’s nothing better for the ache o’ old bones than cool cave air.”
“You’ll take us down there?” Judy asked eagerly. “You’re sure it wouldn’t be too hard on you?”
“I’ll go as far as the siphon, or until we find Bart,” the old captain promised.
“How soon can we get started?” Judy urged.