“That you, Don?”
The next instant Don was making his way in the direction of the voice. He caught an outstretched groping hand and his own tightened convulsively over it.
For a moment both were too deeply moved to speak. Don was the first to break the silence.
“Are you hurt, old boy?” he asked anxiously.
“Somewhat disfigured, but still in the ring,” answered Teddy, with a touch of his old levity, though his voice was far from steady. “You see you can’t shake me. I came along with you. I’m sore as a boil, but no bones broken, as far as I know. How in the mischief did we get down here?”
“How in the mischief are we going to get out?” responded Don.
“I’d give a good deal to know,” complained Teddy.
“Let’s feel our way around these walls and see if they suggest anything,” said Don.
Still badly shaken, but with their strength coming back and their heads momentarily growing clearer, the two boys groped about the walls of their prison. They discovered an almost cylindrical passage extending upward that seemed to be the one through which they had made their unexpected descent.
“Give me a back, Brick.”