"I should say so," cried Dick. "Like some enchanted region. Let's go in the other chamber." Around a huge pillar of rock, a cavern somewhat larger was entered.
Presently, Bob Somers grasped Dave by the arm. "Listen! Don't I hear the sound of running water?" asked Bob. "That's where the sound comes from. Look out, fellows!" he pointed his torch toward a yawning pit which extended across the floor.
The quartet cautiously approached.
The steady swash of running water reached their ears, but the torches, held low, revealed nothing but the rocky sides of the pit. Its lower portion was wrapped in inky blackness.
Despite the strangeness of their surroundings, the boys slept as soundly as they ever did in their lives.
"Gee whitaker!"
Bob Somers raised himself on his elbow, and looked at his watch. "Eight o'clock! Wake up, fellows!" he cried.
The reverberations promptly aroused Havens and Dick, but the "poet laureate" lay still.
"Get up, Chub!" yelled Dick. "Whoop la!"
"Lemme be—I've just turned in," protested Dave. "Lemme be! If you don't, I'll hurt somebody."