'Sorry I insulted you, old man. I just had to. I know the sort of funk that takes you the first time you try this kind of game. And I give you my word there are precious few chaps would have stuck it at all.'
'Now I'll tell you something to console you,' he continued. 'The ledge widens to my right, and runs in under a big overhang. Once we're under that, we're as safe as rats in a granary. No one can see us from up above or from anywhere else, so far as that goes.'
Ken hardly heard. It seemed as if every energy he possessed was needed just to cling where he was, flattened like a dead mole nailed on a keeper's gibbet.
Roy went on talking in a low quiet voice, which gradually brought back Ken's confidence, and though his heart was thumping, and he felt as though it was impossible to draw a full breath, he presently managed to follow his companion along the ledge.
As Roy had said, it gradually widened, and after going very carefully for a matter of twenty feet it grew broad enough to walk on with some degree of safety.
A minute later, and they were in a deep hollow—almost a cave and absolutely hidden from all inquisitive eyes.
Roy laughed softly as he dropped to a sitting position.
'Gosh, I'd love to see Kemp's face this minute,' he remarked in a low voice. 'He'll be just about fit to tie.'
Ken did not answer. He had dropped down and sat with his back against the river side of the cavity, breathing hard. His face was very white, and big drops of perspiration beaded his forehead.
Roy glanced at him with some anxiety. Then he fumbled in the pocket of his tunic and brought out a small leather-covered flask.