"Dick! Dick!" he called.
There was no answer, and the look on his face grew more serious than ever. The boy had gone further. But to where?
"Let me down some more," he called up.
"But be careful. It's mighty skeery down here."
They promised to be careful, and the rope was let down inch by inch, until old Jacob had reached a point fifteen feet below the ledge.
"That's all the rope we have here," cried Bob.
The Yankee tar remained dangling in midair. On all sides of him were the walls of rock, dripping with moisture. He held the torch down, and saw, far below, the glitter of some dark, underground stream.
Dick had fallen into that. But where was he? The question was one impossible to answer. With care old Jacob took some light string from his pocket and threw it into the water. Like a flash a strong current seized it and carried it under a neighboring wall!
"He's gone, poor boy!" he muttered; and something like a tear stole down his bronzed cheek, for he thought a good deal of the young master of the Dashaway. From the top of the opening he heard Dash set up a dismal howl, as if to confirm his opinion.
It was a sorry crowd that gathered to hear
