“I hope it isn’t at home,” chattered Billy.
“But there will be somebody else at home—sure! Come on—softly.”
In half a minute the two boys, Dan ahead, and both on hands and knees, had crept to the foot of the huge rock that seemed so impassable from a little distance.
Underneath the foot of the boulder, however, was a narrow passage entering the hillside. Without doubt it had once been the lair of a wild animal.
But Dan and Billy did not apprehend the appearance of any such tenant of the hollow in the hillside. It was long since any dangerous animal had been seen in the woods about Riverdale.
And it was man that had built the fire. The two boys crept a little way into the passage and listened. In a moment they heard a high pitched voice—a voice shrieking, it seemed, in pain and fright. But the words—if words the person uttered—were quite unintelligible.
“What d’ye know about that?” whispered Billy, forgetting at once his own misfortunes. “There’s trouble up there——”
Again and again the shrieks echoed down the passage. Then followed the rough tones of a deeper voice. The man spoke in anger—there was no doubt of that—and instantly the shriller voice cried out again.