TAD LENDS HELPING HAND

“What is it?  What is it?” cried the other boys, getting free of their blankets and in the confusion rolling and kicking about in the cinders.

“What is it?” shouted the Professor, very much excited.

Ned, dragging his blanket after him, had started to run about, not knowing which way to turn nor what had occurred.  In the meantime the guide and Tad had started in the direction from which the yells had seemed to come.

“It was this way,” shouted Tad.

Ned headed them off running toward the west edge of the crater.  All at once a new note sounded.  With an unearthly howl Ned Rector disappeared.  They heard his voice growing fainter, too, just as Stacy’s had done.

“They’ve fallen in!” cried Tad.

“Everybody stand still!” commanded Dad.

Recognizing that he was right, the others obeyed, with the exception of Tad Butler, who crept cautiously forward, feeling his way with the toes of his boots, that he too might not share the fate of his two companions.

Dad, from somewhere about his person, produced a bundle of sticks which he lighted.  He was prepared for just such an emergency.  A flickering light pierced the deep shadows, just enough to show the party that two of their number had disappeared.

“There is the place,” cried Tad.  “It’s a hole in the ground.  They’ve fallen in.”

“Chunky’s always falling in,” laughed Walter half hysterically.

With his rope in hand, Tad sprang forward.

“Light this way, please,” called Butler.  “Hello, down there!” he cried, peering into the hole in the ground.

“Hello!” came back a faint answer from Ned Rector.  “Get us out quick.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.  Chunky fell in and I fell on him.”

“Is he hurt?”

“I don’t know.  I guess I knocked the wind out of him.”

“How far down are you?” demanded Dad peering in, holding his torch low, exposing a hole about six feet square at the top, widening out as it extended downward.

“I—–­I don’t know.  It felt like a mile when I came down.  Hurry.  Think I want to stay here all night?”

“If Stacy isn’t able to help himself, tie the rope around his waist and we will haul him up,” directed Tad.

“Serve him right to leave him here,” retorted Ned.

“All right, we will leave you both there, if you feel that way,” answered Nance grimly.

“He doesn’t mean it,” said Tad.  “Ned must have his joke, no matter how serious the situation may be.”  Tad lowered his rope, loop first.  “Well, how about it?” he called.

“I’ve made it fast.  Haul away.”  Chunky was something of a heavy weight.  It required the combined efforts of those at the top to haul him out.  Dragging Stacy to the surface, Tad dropped beside the fat boy, giving him a shake and peering anxiously into his eyes, shouting, “Stacy!  Stacy!”