Richard Sturdy climbed the slope, bent over and pushed away a heavy growth of bushes, and a rush of light and fresh morning air swept in from the outside world.
Don leaped into the air and was about to give utterance to a delighted whoop, but the captain clapped his hand over his mouth.
“Not a sound,” he whispered. “We mustn’t wake him.”
So Don, though in his glee he fairly ached to shout and dance, was forced to restrain himself.
Richard Sturdy stood for a moment looking outside. Then, with the same stiff, soldierly stride, he passed the silent watchers, retraced his steps, and sank down in his former place with a deep drawn sigh.
Then and only then did the captain and Don dare to give vent to their delight. They shook hands vigorously, their faces beaming. Then they wakened the others, and after cautioning them about disturbing Mr. Sturdy, imparted the joyous news that threw them all into a delirium of rapture.
It was late when Don’s father awoke.
“No use, Frank,” he said sadly, as his eyes encountered those of the captain. “I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t think of the way I got in here.”
The captain took his hand.
“You’ve already shown us, Richard,” he said gently. “You thought about it so intently last night that it came to you in your sleep and you led us to it. We are saved, Richard, and you are our savior.”