"Hello! what can be keeping Hercus so long?" asked Robbie, when we had walked some distance.
I told him about the rat that the dog was after, and looked back for Willie. Not seeing him, we concluded he had gone round by the top of the cliffs, and we continued our way a few yards further. Then we heard Hercus calling after us in an excited way.
"Come back, lads, come back!" he shouted; and I looked at the sea line, fearing lest it was the rising tide that Hercus was warning us against.
"I'm not going back," objected Tom. "We've got time to get to the other side long before the water's up. Besides, I'm hungry. I'm going home."
"Tut, didn't we wait for you while you skinned your seal? Let's go back," I urged. "Maybe Hercus is hurt."
"Come away back, Tom," added Rosson.
So we all returned to where Willie Hercus still remained, and wondered what he could mean by calling us back.
When we entered the chasm we were much surprised to find Hercus lying flat on the shingle, with his right arm deep in a hole he had dug, and the dog at his side, wagging her tail and uttering short barks of excitement.
"Good sakes!" exclaimed Robbie Rosson. "What's wrong with the lad?"
Much relieved we were to hear Hercus speak. I confess I had felt certain some harm had happened to him.