"Come on, Jasper," said Kenneth, trying to raise him to his feet. "We've got to get out."
For the first time he caught a glimpse of the boy's face. It was white and drawn and horror stricken.
"What's the matter?" cried Kenneth in alarm. Young Hendrick's lips moved but Kenneth could not distinguish the whispered words.
"Eh? What's that? Speak louder! You're all right now! Don't be scared! What is it?" And Kenneth bent his head as the younger boy clung to him convulsively.
"Mister Whipple!"
Kenneth barely caught the whispered words.
"Mr. Whipple," he muttered. "What does he mean?" He pulled the lad's body around so that he could see his face in the smoke-dimmed light. "What about him, Jasper? He's safe, isn't he?"
The white face shook from side to side.
"What does he say?" cried Grafton. "Whipple? Isn't he down? Where is he?"
"He must be—!"