And finally there came again the silence that in one way was almost as
dreadful as the clamor; during which Frank proceeded to light the torch
again, though not without some difficulty.
"Frank, you felt that wet sensation, like fine spray, didn't you?"
demanded Bob, as soon as he could speak with comfort. "Why, touch your
face right now; and you'll find it moist. Whatever can it mean?"
"I think I know," Frank said, slowly. "I suspected it before, and this
seems to make it look more than ever that way."
"Do you mean that you've guessed what makes all that frightful noise?"
asked Bob, astonished.
"I believe I have," came the reply.
"And it has to do with this misty feeling in the air; has it?"
continued the Kentucky boy.
"If my idea proves the right one, and I'm bound to find out before I go
away from this place, it's got everything to do with it, Bob."
"Where there's smoke you'll find fire; and where there's mist I reckon
water can be looked for," remarked Bob, quickly.
"Just so. Now Bob, have you ever been up in the Yellowstone Park
region?"
"I can't say that I have, Frank."
"Then you see I've got the advantage over you; and that's what gave me
a point in the game. Because I've stood and watched Old Faithful and
the other great geysers play every half hour or so," Frank went on, as
they slowly advanced into the passage which seemed possibly to act as
one of many funnels through which the tremendous roaring sound was
carried to the outside world.
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