"Are you all right?"
The tiny piece of cloth waved more emphatically.
"What's the matter, can't you talk?"
The handkerchief fluttered more rapidly.
Ned interpreted this as meaning that the boy could not make himself
heard.
"I am afraid he is hurt."
"Can't be very seriously or he would be unable to stand up and swing
that rag," suggested Walter.
"Looks to me as if he were trying to climb up the rocks," announced
Chunky.
As they gazed down intently they discovered Tad emerging from the
bushes, slowly making his way upward.
"He never can make it," breathed the Professor, anxiously. "He will
be killed if he tries it."
"Trust Tad. He knows what he is about. He won't try to climb up
here," returned Ned.
"You'll see what he's up to in a minute."
The lad's object in scaling the steep wall as far as he could was to
get away from the roar of the water that was hurling itself furiously
through the gorge, so he could talk with his companions.
After ascending as far as the formation of the rocks would allow, Tad
perched himself behind a point of limestone and swung his hand gayly
to those above.
"You can't kill a Pony Rider," glowed Ned.
"Yes, judging from what we have been through, you young gentlemen seem
to be immune to almost everything. Of course there is liable to be a
first time. We don't want that to happen.
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