about Rad.

"I'm not looking for young Gaylord," I said shortly. "I know where he
is. It's the Colonel I'm after. Neither he nor Cat-Eye Mose have come
back, and I'm afraid they're lost in the cave."

The men laughed at this. People didn't get lost in the cave, they said.
All anyone had to do was to follow the path; and besides, if the Colonel
was with Mose he couldn't get lost if he tried. Mose knew the cave so
well that he could find his way around it in the dark. Colonel Gaylord
had probably met some friends in the village and driven home with them.

But I would not be satisfied with an explanation of that sort. The
Colonel, I knew, was not in the habit of abandoning horses in any such
casual manner; and even supposing he had gone home with some friends, he
would scarcely have taken Mose along.

I dismounted, turned my horse over to the stable boy, and announced that
the cave must be searched. This request was received with some
amusement. The idea of getting out a search party for Cat-Eye Mose
struck them as peculiarly ludicrous. But I insisted, and finally one of
the men who was in the habit of acting as guide, took his feet down from
the veranda railing with a grunt of disapproval and shambled into the
house after some candles and a lantern. Two or three of the others
joined the expedition after a good deal of chaffing at my expense.

We set out for the mouth of the cave by a short cut that led across the
fields. It was quite dark by this time, and as there was no moon our one
lantern did not go far toward lighting the path. We stumbled along over
plowed ground and through swampy pastures to the music of croaking frogs
and whip-poor-wills. At first the way was enlivened by humorous
suggestions on the part of my companions as to what had become of
Colonel Gaylord, but as I did not respond very freely to their
bantering, they finally fell silent with only an occasional imprecation
as someone stubbed his toe or caught his clothing on a brier. After a
half hour or so of plodding we came to a clear path through the woods
and in a few minutes reached the mouth of the cave.

A rough little shanty was built over the entrance. It was closed by a
ramshackle door which a child could have opened without any difficulty;
there was at least no danger of the Colonel's having been locked inside.
Lighting our candles, we descended the rough stone staircase into the
first great vault, which forms a sort of vestibule to the cave