Teddy bent over, and Don mounted on his back. But with hands extended to the uttermost he could touch nothing above.
Climbing was out of the question, for the walls, though of earth, were as hard and smooth as though they had been shaped by machinery and offered no crevices to which hands or feet could cling.
“Do you know, Brick, I don’t believe we fell through any natural opening. If we had, there’d be some light coming from up there. The hole wouldn’t have closed up so suddenly.”
“What’s your idea then?” asked Teddy wonderingly.
“I think there was a hinged door there, concealed by earth, that sprang back again when it dumped us here. A trap laid, perhaps, by the old Pharaoh to catch anybody who should come prying about his tomb.”
“The old gink!” exclaimed Teddy. “Who’d ever thought he had such a sour disposition?”
“That would explain why the walls are so smooth,” continued Don. “If any one wasn’t killed by the fall he couldn’t climb up again. Well, we’re in for it now, and we’re up against it for fair.”
“They must be looking for us outside,” said Teddy, sobered by their plight. “Suppose we shout to them. They may hear us.”
It was a good suggestion, and they shouted till their throats were so hoarse they could do little else but whisper.
But there were no answers except the echoes.