The following morning they started out for the trysting place. Dick without demur submitted to the usual precautions. He was blindfolded before mounting his pony in the great central domed cavern and it was not until a couple of hours later, after a veritable switchback ride up and down and round about in a bewildering maze, that he was permitted to remove the bandage. Dismounting, he found himself in the heart of a great oak forest, in what precise locality he could not tell, for there was nothing in sight but endless vistas of tree trunks under their thick canopy of green leaves.
Pierre touched him on the shoulder, and he followed the direction of the Frenchman’s eyes. There, advancing through the sylvan twilight, was Merle Farnsworth, her hands eagerly extended, her face lighted with joy. Following at a little distance came Tia Teresa.
Dick, hastening to meet Merle, took both her hands into his, and gazed deep into her eyes.
“Oh, it’s great to meet you again,” he exclaimed. “And this is my first chance to thank you for having saved me the other night. My word, but you were quick to think and to act. You cannot know how I admired your courage and coolness.”
“Nonsense, nonsense,” protested Merle, in sweet blushing confusion. “You make far too much of the little I did.”
“You saved my life,” said Dick, determinedly. “You can call that a little thing if you choose.”
“No, no,” she replied, earnestly. “If I really did that, then it was truly a big thing.”
“For me.”
“And for all of us,” she added, with face half-averted.
“And you, too?” pressed Dick.