That was a dramatic moment. The Indian girl knew, too, for her face had suddenly become animated with some great emotion. Gliding swiftly to the white girl’s side, she placed her fingers on her lips.
Instantly Jean read her meaning. She sprang to her feet, and at once there came from her throat the clear notes of their call:
“Whoo-hoo-hoo,
Whoo-hoo-hoo,
Whoo-hoo-hoo.”
Johnny Thompson, sitting alone in the dark, heard and sprang to his feet. The next moment as the call was repeated again and again, he found himself feeling his way by following the sound closer and closer to the singer.
Jean had kept up the call for three minutes when, after holding up a hand for silence, the Indian girl lifted the stout stick as if it were a fairy’s wand and pressed it against the top of the stone door.
Amazed, stupified, the brother and sister stared in silence as the great rock began to fall back.
Back, back, back it moved until it lay flat upon the floor. At that dramatic moment, smiling like a fairy prince released from an enchanted prison, Johnny stepped over the threshold, free.
Could Johnny be pardoned if he embraced his fair deliverers? Well, he must be, for that is exactly what he did, both of them, and the action seemed to him a part of a beautiful ending to a horrible dream.