LITMIR.BIZ

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off on a search. "And I thought I was having a good joke! Oh, I certainly must be going crazy!" he muttered.

      In the meantime Songbird had thrown himself on his hands and knees and crawled to the edge of the old well hole. He called out several times, but got no reply. He heard a great floundering and splashing.

      "Hi, you!" he continued. "Are you alive?"

      "Sa – save us!" came the spluttered-out words, from Spud. "Sa – save us!"

      "Are you both alive?" continued Songbird, anxiously.

      "Yes," answered Stanley. "But we need help, for the water is over our heads. Get a rope, or something, and be quick about it!"

      "Hang on the best you can and we'll help you," was the answer.

      "Well, don't be too long about it, or we'll be drowned!" came in a shivering tone from Spud.

      CHAPTER IV

      THE OLD WELL HOLE

      The three youths at the top of the old well hole gazed around anxiously. All were looking for a rope, but no such article presented itself to their view. There was a bit of iron chain lying in the dead leaves nearby, but it was too short to be of service.

      "I don't see anything to use," remarked Songbird, wildly. "Oh, Sam, this is awful!"

      "Come on, I think I see something," answered the younger Rover. "Tom, you can help bring it over."

      He took his half-dazed brother by the arm, more to keep him from approaching too close to the well than for any other reason, and the three boys raced to where a number of saplings were growing. Sam had noted that one of the saplings had been bent over by the wind and was partly uprooted.

      "Maybe we can get it up – we've got to do it!" he cried. "Come, catch hold and pull for all you are worth!"

      The others understood and laid hold of the young tree, which was all of fifteen feet high and several inches in diameter. It had but few branches, which was an advantage. They bent it down and pulled with a will, and out of the ground it came, so suddenly that the boys fell flat on their backs.

      "Wait, I'll break off some of the branches!" cried Sam. "Tom, Songbird, try to break off that twisted root. There, that will do. Now, if we can get it down the well they ought to be able to climb up on it."

      It was but the work of a few seconds to drag the sapling to the hole. Then it was lifted upright, so that the end might not dig into the sides of the well and cause a cave-in.

      "Look out below there!" shouted Sam.

      "Don't knock any stones on us!" came back from Stanley. He and Spud had braced themselves on the sides of the old well, with the water up to their waists.

      "We'll be as careful as we can," answered Songbird.

      "Look out for dirt in your eyes," added Tom. All the fun had died out of him and his face was full of concern.

      Slowly and cautiously the three boys lowered the sapling into the old well hole. In doing this they had to stand close to the edge, and once they sent down a shower of loose dirt that caused a wild cry of alarm from below.

      "Go slow!" cried Spud, presently. "I've got it," he added, a second later. "Let her come," and then the sapling was lowered until the roots rested on the bottom of the hole. The top was now several feet below the top of the old well.

      "The old chain – just the thing!" cried Sam, and took it up.

      "You had better come up close together," suggested Songbird, peering down at those below. "Then, if the well caves in, you'll be up that far anyway."

      This was thought good advice and Stanley and Spud determined to act on it. Stanley came first with Spud at his heels. The many small branches of the sapling afforded good holds, and as each of the youths was something of an athlete, both of them came up with comparative ease.

      "Can't get any higher," remarked Stanley, when within two feet of the top of the sapling. "It's almost ready to break now."

      "Catch hold of the chain!" cried Sam. "I'll hold it. Tom and Songbird, you hold me, so I don't fall in."

      Sam had the chain twisted around his right hand and he leaned far over into the well hole, his brother and Songbird holding him by his free arm. The loose end of the chain dangled close to Stanley and he grasped hold. Then came a short, hard pull, and Stanley came sprawling out on the grass. Then Spud crawled up a little higher and he was hauled out the same way.

      Both boys were wet to the skin and covered with mud, presenting anything but an enviable appearance. For several seconds they sat on the grass, panting for breath.

      "Phew! that was a close shave!" gasped Spud, presently. "I'm mightily glad the old well didn't cave in on us!"

      "We went down head first," came from Stanley. "If it hadn't been for the water we would have smashed our skulls!"

      "And the water came close to drowning us," added Spud; "And say, it was some cold, believe me," and he shivered.

      "You'd better race around in the sun a bit, or you'll take cold," said Sam.

      "Take off your coat, Spud, and put on mine," said Songbird, as he commenced to divest himself of his garment.

      "Yes, and Stanley can have my coat," came from Tom. He now looked relieved, but his eyes had a strange light in them.

      "It's queer how your old cap landed right on the top of the well," remarked Spud. "Why didn't the wind carry it to some safer place?"

      At this remark Tom's face grew suddenly red. He tried to speak and gave a gulp.

      "There isn't much wind now," added Stanley. "How was it, Tom?"

      "I – er – I – the wind didn't blow the cap," was the lame answer. Just then Tom wished he was a thousand miles away. He could not look his chums in the face.

      "It didn't blow the cap?" demanded Spud. "What do you mean?"

      To this Tom did not answer. Sam wanted to speak, but did not know what to say. Songbird looked curiously at Tom.

      "Say, look here!" burst out Stanley, striding forward. "Do you mean to say, Tom Rover, that you put that cap on the old well on purpose?"

      "I – I – did," answered Tom feebly. "I – er – I thought it was a – a joke."

      "A joke?" cried Spud, sarcastically.

      "A joke, to put us in peril of drowning, or smothering to death!" roared Stanley. "If you call that a joke I don't, and I want you to know it!" And in a sudden passion he doubled up his fists and sprang towards Tom.

      But Sam rushed between the pair.

      "Stanley, don't, please don't!" he cried. "Tom made a mistake, – he knows it now."

      "He'll know it after I am done with him!" cried the other, hotly. "He's not going to play a joke on me that puts me in danger of my life! I'll take it out of his hide!" And he tried to get past the younger Rover.

      But still Sam held him back.

      "Stanley, don't touch him. You know how sick he's been. He isn't himself. Let it pass. He's as sorry as any of us that it happened; aren't you, Tom?"

      "Sure I am," answered Tom, readily; but his tone of voice was that of one who didn't care much, one way or the other. Tom was not himself, that was certain.

      "Humph, maybe he's sorry and maybe he isn't," muttered Stanley. "I guess he ought to have a thrashing. Anyway, I am done with him," and he flung back the coat Tom had offered him.

      All in the crowd looked at Tom, expecting him to say something more. But Tom shut his mouth tightly and walked away, up the river path. He was without his coat. Sam picked up the garment and made after his brother.

      "Tom, come back here!"

      "I won't, Sam. You can stay with them if you want to. I'll take a walk alone," was the moody answer, and Tom walked faster than ever.

      "Of all the mean things to do!" murmured Spud, shaking his head slowly. "I would never have thought it of Tom Rover, never!"

      "Tom

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