"
"Yes, and how bright they look from here in this black hole. How long
did you say now, Frank?" asked the anxious and weary Bob, yawning.
"Half an hour ought to see us through, and bring daylight."
"But Frank, that river is still running below us. However in the wide
world will we get out of this?" asked Bob.
"No use crossing till you get to the bridge," laughed Frank. "Just you
make up your mind there's going to be some way open for us to get out
of this. And if the worst comes, I'm a boss swimmer, remember, Bob."
After another spell of waiting the Kentucky lad cried out:
"I believe it's getting light! Yes, you can see things now that were
hid before!"
The morning came. Overhead the sun shone, for they could see that the
sky was clear. And looking down they saw the rushing torrent that had
not filled the bed of the canyon for perhaps centuries back.
When another hour had elapsed Bob began to grow impatient, and
suggested various wild schemes for getting out of the difficulty. To
all of these Frank shook his head. He himself was considering
something, when he suddenly lifted his head as though listening.
"Some one shouting up yonder!" exclaimed Bob, pointing upward to the
top of the canyon wall; whereupon Frank seized upon his gun, and fired
several shots in rapid succession.
Then came answering shouts, upon which Frank repeated his signal for
help.
"They hear you; they're coming closer! Oh! Frank, I believe that's
Old Hank Coombs hollering!" exclaimed the excited Bob.
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