Retreat was now an impossibility. He must either find a way out of the narrow prison he now found himself in by forging ahead, or else must either reveal himself or starve to death like a rat in a trap.
He was in a bad box and no mistake.
For the present he was compelled to lie perfectly quiet where he was, for the noise of the pile in settling had drawn to the spot several of the den's inmates.
Cap was seized with a fit of ill-humor over the occurrence, which he accepted as evidence that the miscellaneous stuff had been carelessly stowed.
"Come—come, Cap?" Shadow heard one of the men rather impatiently say. "You've said enough now, so haul in your horns, for I, for one, won't stand any more."
They were all in one boat, to adopt a much-used simile. And a certain number of them belonged to a co-operative sort of an association, and consequently were on an even footing.
Over these men Cap had no authority, save that which he had acquired from the fact of his being a very important man in the association.
So now, when spoken to in this plain manner, Cap swallowed his wrath, and discontinued his cursing the men with him.
He said that he was afraid that the noise would attract attention that might prove unwelcome.
But that was not the only reason for his anger at the settling down of the big pile.