"No good letting them know what I tried to do," quickly decided Floyd.
"It would only make it worse for us."
Having decided on a line of action it did not take the lad an instant to carry it out. Quickly he picked up the broken pieces of his lever and started back with them toward the cave where he and his sister were held captives.
"Make fire!" he said to the Indians. "Make fire—cook grub!"
"Ugh!" they grunted. They evidently accepted this obvious explanation.
Their suspicions lulled, they turned and went back the way they had come, pausing long enough, however, to watch Floyd enter the cave where Rosemary waited.
"Well," she questioned, as he threw the broken ends of his lever on the rocky floor.
"No go," answered Floyd despondently. "I had a peach of a chance to play a trump hand on them, but luck was against me."
He told what he had tried to do with the rock.
"Oh? I—I'm almost glad it didn't succeed!" said Rosemary with a shudder. "It would have been—terrible!"
"Nothing is too bad for these devils!" cried Floyd. "But I give up. I can't think of anything more to do."