gaping opening. We shouted and
called, and at last were answered by a faint moan. Then we looked into
each other's eyes, and knew that there was only one thing to do. We must
go down into that black hole and do what we could to rescue our friend.

"But how were we to accomplish this? We had no ropes, and the feeble
light of our torches when we thrust them into the black opening failed to
reveal any bottom. For this reason we dared not risk a drop, with almost
the certainty of not being able to get back again."

"It looked as though we were 'up against it,' but finally we made a
makeshift rope by tearing up part of our clothing into strips and tying
them together. This made a fairly serviceable rope, and, after tying
knots in it at intervals to facilitate our descent, we lowered it into
the opening. When we had let it out almost to the end it stopped
swinging, so we knew it had touched bottom. I volunteered to go down
first, and did so."

"It was ticklish business, and more than once I almost lost my hold.
Finally, however, my feet touched a hard floor, and I let go."

"All right!" I shouted to those above. "Come on down."

"Coming, old man," replied 'Brad,' and the sound of his cheery voice was
a great comfort to me. I knew he would soon be with me, and so gave my
attention to finding and helping Bob. I had not gone more than a few
steps when I discovered him stretched out on the cold rock floor, either
unconscious or dead. I soon found the former to be the case, to my great
relief, and forced a few drops of whiskey from my flask between his
teeth.

"By the time Bradhurst had reached my side I could see some signs of
returning consciousness in Bob's face, and before long he struggled to a
sitting posture."

"Wh--what happened, anyway?" he asked.

"That's what we'd like to know," said Brad. "What made you fall that
way. What struck you?"

"Something darted out of that cursed thing's mouth and pierced my hand,"
replied Bob, as he began to regain his memory. "Look at that!" and he
held his left hand out for us to see.

"It had been neatly punctured by some sharp instrument, which left a
small wound not more than an eighth of an inch across. The hand was
puffed and swollen, though, and the thought flashed across my mind that
this scratch was probably not as trivial as it looked. I had little
doubt that the instrument, whatever it was, had been poisoned, and as I
stole a swift glance at Brad I co