“Be the powers! if it isn’t the most wonderful thing that ever happened, as Mrs. Murphy remarked when Tim came home sober one night.  That laddy, in hunting around, has struck upon some hole that leads out, and he’s forgot, or else it was so hard to find his way back to me, he has gone round to that place, and now hollers down at me.

“Begorrah,” added Mickey, a moment later, “it must be that he shoved that spalpeen overboard, and there isn’t anybody left up there in the way of Apaches but one, and he ain’t an Apache, but a gintleman named Fred Moonson.  Here’s to his health, and if this thing gets any more delightful, I’ll have to give a whoop and yell, and strike up the Tipperary jig.”

The exultant fellow had hard work to keep his spirits under control when he fairly understood the brilliant exploit that had been performed by his young friend.

“It is almost aqual to my gineral coorse,” he he added; “but I must try and hold in till I can get the laddy by himself.  Then I’ll hammer him, out of pure love, as ye may say.”

Mickey managed to contain himself, but did not attempt to reply to the direct call which was made upon him.  That, in one sense, would have been fatal, as it would have “uncovered” his position.  The Irishman was quick-witted, and it occurred to him that the last incident which had happened at the entrance to the cave might be turned to good account.  If he continued to remain in the background, the Apaches were likely to conclude that he, too, was beyond their reach.

Thus matters stood until the signal was made to him, when he deemed it wise to make a cautious reply, merely to apprise the lad that he was there within call, and understood the situation through and through.

Mickey was very apprehensive when, some time after, he discovered that one of the Indians was ascending the rope.  He was not so apprehensive when he came down again.  The result of this repulse was much more decisive than Fred had supposed.  The warriors seemed to suspect that they were throwing away time in attempting to outwit one who held such an immense advantage over them, and who was too wide-awake to permit them to steal a march upon him.

The delighted Irishman knew, from the sounds, that the redskins were moving away from the spot, not with the idea of staying away altogether, but that they might engage upon a little reconnoissance which might possibly open the way that they were so anxiously seeking.  One of the redskins passed almost within arm’s length of him, never suspecting, as a matter of course, that he was brought into such proximity to a mortal enemy.  Mickey only breathed until assured that there was quite a distance between him and the Apaches.

“Now it begins to look as though there’s a chance for me,” he concluded; “and if me laddy will let down the lasso, I’ll thry the bootiful experiment of shinning up it, though I much fear me that it will be the same as a greased pole.”