“Tell me everything, quick,” Webb went on, for he was rapidly regaining his poise, strength and activity. “Where is Elsie? Where is Whiting? Oh, men, I’ve been here an eternity!”
“You have!” cried Joe. “I say, have you been here all the time?”
“Yes, every day,—every hour of it! I thought I’d die,—I wanted to,—but I wanted to live to give Whiting his!”
“And for Elsie’s sake,” put in Joe, to divert Webb’s thoughts from the more dangerous channel.
“Yes, Elsie! Where is she? Can I see her now?”
“I don’t see why not,” said Allison, and the other man nodded as Joe ran to the stairs and called down over the banister.
At the sound, Elsie came flying upstairs, and the men, unable to hold Webb back, followed him as he descended one flight to meet her.
They met in the second floor hall, and clasped in each others’ arms were so silent in their shock of joy that the others went rapidly downstairs and left them to themselves.
“Oh, Kimball, I knew I’d get you back,” Elsie kept repeating, “I knew I would!”
“I didn’t, dearest, I didn’t dare even hope for it. I’ve been so helpless,—gagged always, lest I attract attention from outside and bound much of the time, lest I break out, somehow.”