"Whatever can have happened to him?" asked Bob, awed by the exciting
incidents by which they seemed to be surrounded.
"I reckon he's caught in some sort of trap, judging from his talk,"
Frank sent back over his shoulder; for both of them were climbing
upward as rapidly as the conditions allowed.
It was no wonderful feat for Frank to make straight for the spot where
the loud voice came from. He had located it; and even when Joe ceased
calling for a minute or two, Frank was able to continue right on.
Apparently the cowman had heard some sound that told him of their
coming. That accounted for his silence, since he was listening
eagerly. And of course he fully expected that it must be Nick Jennings
hastening to his assistance, perhaps with Peg at his heels. At least
his words would indicate as much, when he cried again.
"Hurry, boys! There ain't any too much time. This way, right straight
ahead! Oh! I'm in a hole, I tell ye. Ye ain't stopping, are ye?
Come on! come on!"
They were now close to where the speaker must be located. Frank was
already straining his eyes to make out his figure, so as to get some
idea as to the nature of the new task that confronted them.
He presently could make out some object that squirmed and tugged
between groans.
Then he knew that his first guess was probably correct. Spanish Joe,
in making his way along over the rocks, had in some way managed to
catch his foot in a crack, and was unable to get it out again.
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