Teddy had the alternative of accompanying his comrade or staying behind, and he chose the former. He had never yet deserted Don in a crisis, and he was not going to do it now.
The boys advanced slowly in the pitch darkness, feeling their way inch by inch. And that caution was justified when Don, putting out his foot tentatively, felt nothing beneath it and hurriedly drew back.
“Back, Teddy!” he warned. “There’s a break here.”
He knelt down and reached his hand over into the opening as far down as he could, without coming in contact with anything.
“I wonder how deep it is,” he pondered. “Oh, if we only had a light of some kind.”
He took a bunch of keys from his pocket and found an old one belonging to the house at Hillville which he could dispense with.
“I’ll throw this in,” he said, “and we can tell from the sound when it strikes how deep the hole is.”
He dropped the key and they listened. The seconds passed. Then far, far down, they heard a faint tinkling, as the key struck a rock.
They recoiled from the brink in consternation.
“Why, it’s almost bottomless!” exclaimed Teddy. “It must be hundreds and hundreds of feet deep!”