"That's hard to say. I imagine, though, they expected to just badger us from time to time until finally we all set out in full chase of the crowd. Then perhaps they meant to lead us along this old trail, avoiding the pit themselves, and having us tumble in pell-mell. It was a clever dodge, but a mean trick all the same."
"But if that had happened it might have been serious. One of us could easily break a leg or an arm in such a tumble," expostulated Frank.
"Huh! little those fellows care about that They're a rough lot, you know. That Pet Peters thinks everybody is made of iron, like himself. Say, I hope Will finds that old ladder we used to play with. I'd hate to lie in here waiting for you to go all the way to camp and get a rope," grumbled the imprisoned one.
"I hear voices, and I reckon Will must have met some one. Yes, there they come."
"With the ladder?" demanded Jerry, eagerly.
"They seem to be carrying something between them. Why, I ought to know that fellow. As sure as you live, it's Andy Lasher," declared Frank, somewhat surprised.
"Then it's all right; I'm satisfied," said Jerry, resignedly.
The others came forward, and as Frank had said they bore between them a long, slender tree upon which many slats had been nailed by the boys. This formed a rude but effective ladder, upon which one might ascend and descend when desirous of seeing what the interior of the abandoned shaft was like.
"I came across Andy down the trail. Only for him I guess I'd never have lit on the ladder, for they'd carried it some distance off, and hid it," cried Will.
Andy looked Frank straight in the face, and the latter explained: