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Patchin, Frank Gee, 1861-1925

"Or, the Secret of Ruby Mountain"


"Yes, he'll probably think it's very funny, our being bottled up or
rather down in a corner underground," said Ned somewhat dolefully.
"I didn't mean that. He'll be glad he went hunting instead of coming
along with us," corrected Walter.
"Yes, I guess he will," agreed Tad. "He'll have a right to
congratulate himself that he has missed an opportunity to fall in."
The lads forgot their predicament for the moment in the laugh that
followed.
"I wish we had a light," said one.
"We might build a fire. What's the matter with burning up our hats?"
suggested Ned.
"No, we should be suffocated. Don't you know we are sealed up,"
objected Tad. "We don't want to make any additional trouble for
ourselves."
"Yes," agreed the guide. "But it is peculiar that there is so much
fresh air here. Now and then I can almost imagine I feel a draft,
though I know that is not the case."
"Could we not get a draft through that large crack in the rocks up
there?"
"I don't see how, Tad. There is nothing but solid rocks above it."
The lad stepped under the opening, holding up a finger which he had
wet between his lips. For a full moment he stood poised like a statue
while the other two boys lighted matches that they might the better
see what he was doing.
"I don't care what you say, there is air coming from somewhere.


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