"Well, it is for a fact," he admitted with a little dry chuckle; for he
felt really pleased to think that he had held out so long, and forced
Frank to "show his hand."
"Seems to me we ought to have struck something," suggested Frank.
"Do you really mean you think we've come far enough for that?"
questioned Bob.
"I reckon we have, though it's so dark I can't be dead sure. You don't
happen to glimpse anything queer around here, do you, Bob?" and while
speaking Frank, perhaps unconsciously, lowered his voice more or less.
"Nary a thing," replied the other, breathing fast, as if to make up for
lost time.
"And I don't get any whiff of smoke, do you?" continued Frank.
"Oh! you're thinking about that volcano business again, eh?" chuckled
Bob. "Nothing doing, Frank. Gee! we must be up pretty high here!"
"Feels like it," returned the prairie boy, accustomed to the heavier
air of the lower levels at all times. "Makes me breathe faster, you
know. But that was a hot old climb, Bob."
"All black up yonder in the sky, with never a star showing," observed
the boy from Kentucky.
"Oh! we're going to get it, sooner or later," declared Frank,
cheerfully. "Can't escape a ducking, I take it. But here we are, half
way up old Thunder Mountain, and not a thing to show for our work.
That's what I call tough!"
"Got enough?" asked his chum, invitingly.
"You mean of course for to-night only, because you'd never think of
such a thing as giving up the game so early, Bob?"
"Well, I was only going to make a little suggestion," returned the
other.
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