"Well, then if I can't see anything better to do then what you proposed, we'll go to it!" decided Floyd. "You sit here and I'll scurry around. I won't be long."
"No, please don't," begged Rosemary. "If we're going to do anything we'll have to do it very soon. This can't last—much longer!"
Floyd did not stop to ask his sister just what she meant. In fact he did not dare question her as to what it was that could not last "much longer." He had a desperate fear that it was Rosemary's own spirit that was on the point of breaking.
Up to now she had kept up her courage remarkably well. But there was a limit, and if the breaking point had been reached Floyd did not know what would follow.
He shot a quick look at the girl before he started out on what he thought might be a last desperate venture. He felt that he might discover something to do—some way of escape—that would not make it necessary for his sister to virtually rush into danger.
And he was relieved when he saw the calm and cool look that was on
Rosemary's face.
"She isn't going to give up!" decided Floyd.
There was an exultant feeling in his heart.
During this talk between brother and sister the dirty Indian detailed to guard the captives had sauntered within view of them every now and then. To quiet his suspicions, in case he should have any, Rosemary and Floyd had spoken most casually on these occasions.
The lad waited until the guard had come on one of his periodic trips of inspection and had dropped out of sight on a ledge of rock, and then Floyd started out.