"Give the fellow a chance," growled Trendon. "Air may be all right in the cave. Good water there, too. Says so himself. By Slade's account he's a pretty capable citizen when it comes to looking after himself. Wouldn't wonder if we'd find him fit as a fiddle."
"There was no clue to Ives and McGuire?" asked Barnett presently.
"None." It was the captain who answered.
The gig grated, and the tide being high, they waded to the base of the cliff, Barnett carrying his precious explosives aloft in his arms.
"Here's the spot," said the captain. "See where the water goes in through those crevices."
"Opening at the top, too," said Trendon.
He let out his bellow, roaring Darrow's name.
"I doubt if you could project your voice far into a cave thus blocked," said Captain Parkinson. "We'll try this."
He drew his revolver and fired. The men listened at the crevices of the rock. No sound came from within.
"Your enterprise, Mr. Barnett," said the commander, with a gesture which turned over the conduct of the affair to the torpedo expert.