t at all. You know yourself it would be just like that Pet
Peters. If I'd only thought of the blooming old thing in time, I might
have investigated. Talk to me about your Alpine climbers, I thought I was
going into the crevasse, all right."

"But how are you going to get out?" asked Frank, always practical.

"A fellow can't climb out. I know that, for we used to try it. Somebody
always had to put down the long pole that we made into a ladder,"
declared Will.

"Is it around here now?" continued Frank.

"Wait and I'll give a look."

Will very carefully placed his camera with its accompanying case of
films. He made sure that it was out of the way, so that no one might
incautiously step on the same, and ruin his heart's delight. Then he
passed into the bushes to scour the immediate neighborhood.

Meanwhile Frank bent over the edge again.

"I've examined this covering up here, Jerry, and there's not the least
doubt but that it was made with a distinct purpose," he declared.

"I reckon it was, and it got me, all right. It looked just like the rest
of the trail, and I never suspected a thing until I found myself going
down. Speak to me about that, will you? To think that I was caught by
such a shabby trick. If it had been you, now, it wouldn't seem so bad,
because you never saw this hole before."

"But what object could those rascals have had in constructing the trap?"
pursued Frank, seeking more light.

"That's hard to say. I imagine, though, they expected to just badger us
from time to time until finally we all set out in full chase of the
crowd. Then perhaps they meant to lead us along this old trail, avoiding
the pit themselves, and having us tumble in pell-mell. It was a clever
dodge, but a mean trick all the same."

"But if that had happened it might have been serious. One of us could
easily break a leg or an arm in such a tumble," expostulated Frank.

"Huh! little those fellows care about that They're a rough lot, you know.
That Pet Peters thinks everybody is made of iron, like himself. Say, I
hope Will finds that old ladder we used to play with. I'd hate to lie in
here waiting for you to go all the way to camp and get a rope," grumbled
the imprisoned one.

"I hear voices, and I reckon Will must have met some one. Yes, there
they come."

"With the ladder?" demanded Jerry, eagerly.

"They seem to be carrying something between them. Why, I ought to know
that fellow. As sure as you live, it's Andy Lasher,