“I hope they haven’t said anything about it to Gilroy,” Ned replied.
“Gilroy?” repeated Jimmie scornfully. “Why that fat dub is scared stiff. He wouldn’t know the Constitution of the United States from a declaration of war right now.”
“Don’t go to getting into any scrapes while I’m gone,” Ned advised, as he turned away toward the tunnel. “You stand right here and keep watch until I come back.”
“I won’t breathe aloud!” promised Jimmie.
The meeting between Ned and the other boys was a joyous one. Each had been worried over the disappearance of the other. As for Gilroy, he welcomed the assembling of the boys as an indication that he was soon to be taken out of the dangerous situation in which he found himself.
“Now, boys,” Ned said, after the greetings were over, “we’ve got to get Harry up the incline and out of the pit, so we may as well be at it.”
“According to Gilroy,” Harry smiled, “there’s a band of Bashi Bazooks up there ready to mix with you the minute you show your faces.”
“The killing of two of their number undoubtedly frightened them away,” Ned answered. “At any rate, the moon is rising now, and any danger which threatens may readily be detected. You must understand,” he went on, “that the outlaws who came to the Devil’s Punch Bowl expected to find you three boys lying dead at the bottom.”
“Why should they think that?” asked Harry.
“I’m going on the theory,” replied Ned, “that this crooked little messenger boy notified the outlaws where we were to be found before he came to lead us to the slaughter.”
“That’s just about what he did!” Jack interposed.
“In that case,” Ned continued, “When they saw no trace of us in the pit, they were ready to abandon their search, probably believing that the boy had deceived them.”
“I understand,” Frank cut in, “then they got into a mixup among themselves and, according to Gilroy, two were killed and the rest took a hot-foot for the cool chambers of the old mission.”
“Then we may as well be getting Harry out,” Frank suggested. “We’ll tie the rope under his arms, use our coats for a stretcher and pull him gently, yet firmly, up the tunnel until his back wears out and then we’ll turn him over.”
“I could walk up all right,” Harry insisted, “if the tunnel was only high enough for me to stand up in.”