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DOWN THE OLD SHAFT
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suspected a thing until I found myself going down. Speak to me about that, will you? To think that I was caught by such a shabby trick. If it had been you, now, it wouldn't seem so bad, because you never saw this hole before."

"But what object could those rascals have had in constructing the trap?" pursued Frank, seeking more light.

"That's hard to say. I imagine, though, they expected to just badger us from time to time until finally we all set out in full chase of the crowd. Then perhaps they meant to lead us along this old trail, avoiding the pit themselves, and having us tumble in pell-mell. It was a clever dodge, but a mean trick all the same."

"But if that had happened it might have been serious. One of us could easily break a leg or an arm in such a tumble," expostulated Frank.

"Huh! little those fellows care about that. They're a rough lot, you know. That Pet Peters thinks everybody is made of iron, like himself. Say, I hope Will finds that old ladder we used to play with. I'd hate to lie in here waiting for you to go all the way to camp and get a rope," grumbled the imprisoned one.

"I hear voices, and I reckon Will must have met some one. Yes, there they come."

"With the ladder?" demanded Jerry, eagerly.