And with that dire threat he followed.
The journey came to a sudden end, however, a moment later. The tunnel broadened again into a sort of hollow dome, a little room. And in front was a wall of rock.
Mark gazed about him. There was nothing in the place apparently except a pile of rags in one corner. It was simply a bare cell of rock with nothing whatever beyond it. The plebes were “stumped,” as the phrase has it, for they had imagined they had their victims penned up.
“They’ve dodged us somehow,” said Mark. “Let’s go back and hunt again.”
Just then, however, another discovery was made, this time by the classic Parson. The Parson had the true scientific spirit of research, you must know; or what is known in newspaper circles as a “nose for news.” To put Parson Stanard where there was any possibility of acquiring new data on the subjects of geological formations and “stratiological eccentricities” was like putting a bloodhound on a fresh trail.
During the plebes’ whispered debate, the lanky and solemn scholar had been wandering around like a lion in a cage, peering at everything, punching and testing the rocks, even smelling them occasionally. And suddenly he gave vent to a cry of joy.
“Yea, by Zeus!” he muttered. “By the seven gates of Thebes and the seven hills of Rome! I knew it!”
“What’s the matter?” cried the others.
“By Zeus!” he cried. “Fellow citizens of Athens, I have discovered another entrance to the cave!”
The others stared at him in incredulity and amazement.