Dig Here!

  XVI

  The Rescue

  WE climbed over the wall and made our way through the tall grass to therear of the house. Eve, as good as her word, walked up to the back doorand knocked. Not, she said, that she expected any answer but just tosatisfy Hattie May.

  But Hattie May did not seem at all reassured by the silence thatanswered us. "If Hamish is swooned of--or d-dead," she cried, "ofcourse he won't hear! What we've got to do is to break down that door!Or----" she glanced helplessly around--"or get inside somehow. I justknow Hamish is somewhere about this place!"

  I saw that she was on the verge of becoming hysterical again."Nonsense," I said, "if Hamish was here, we'd have seen his car,wouldn't we?"

  "I can't help it, I've got to get inside," she repeated, her voicegetting more and more raspy and high-pitched. "I guess if your onlybrother was lying----" she paused. Eve who had stopped knocking, nowhad her hand on the latch. To our utter amazement it turned in her handand the door swung inward. Unlocked! What did that mean?

  Well to Hattie May it meant just one thing--a confirmation of her worstfears. She rushed inside. "Hamish!" she cried at the top of her lungs."Hamish, where are you?" Her voice went echoing through the big kitchenand the wide hall beyond. But no other sound answered it. "Hamish!Hamish, where are you?"

  I was still standing just within the doorway. In truth I had littledesire to enter the house again. Suddenly Eve who had not moved fromthe threshold, caught me by the elbow. "Listen!" she said, "I thought Iheard something!"

  She had swung round and was gazing out toward the garden. And as westood there there came to our ears, faint and far away, something whichsounded like a muffled cry. Hattie May turned back. "What is it?" sheasked. "What's the matter?"

  "We thought we heard something outside," I said. "Listen, there it isagain!" Was it my imagination or was it a cry for help!

  "Oh, it's him--it's Hamish!" In one dash Hattie May was through thedoorway and running wildly down the grass grown path toward the garden."Hamish! Hamish!" she called. And as we sped after her, we heard theanswer again. And this time there was no mistake--"Help, help!" camethe cry!

  Through the weeds and brambles we streaked, stumbling over deadbranches, scratching faces and clothes--on and on in the direction ofthat cry. Hattie May was in the lead. Once she tripped and fell and Eveand I had to pull her up. We came to the end of the garden. Beyond theunderbrush was so dense that we could see nothing ahead. But Hattie Mayraced on blindly; her hair streaming about her face, her thin dresstorn; while a trickle of blood from a scratch across her nose added tothe general wildness of her aspect.

  "Help, help, help!" The cry was quite near now. We came to a stragglingline of stones where a wall had once been. On the other side we madeout the traces of what seemed to be the foundation of an old house. Thecries appeared to come from a spot in the undergrowth just beyond this.Hattie May plowed on, Eve was at her heels. "Hamish! Where are you?"

  "Here I am!" It was Hamish's voice, there was no mistaking it--butoddly muffled.

  Suddenly ahead of me I saw Eve pause almost like an animal who scentsdanger. "Wait!" she cried.

  But Hattie May did not heed. "Hamish," she repeated frantically, "whereare you!" As she spoke I saw Eve reach out and grab her dress skirt.And she was just in time. A second later, coming up with them, I sawthat they were standing on the very edge of a yawning hole. A rottedboard half covered it but the board was broken and showed new splintersas if some heavy object had but recently fallen through.

  "It's a well!" Hattie May cried, dropping to her knees and peering intothe blackness below. "Oh, Hamish, are you down there--are you drowned?"

  "Get a rope," came back the voice. "I'm perishin'! Get a rope and a manquick!"

  "Oh, Hamish, are you drowned?" repeated Hattie May wildly.

  "Of course he isn't drowned," Eve said calmly. "A drowned persondoesn't scream like that. It's a dry well, don't you understand?"

  "A dry well!"

  "We've got to get a man and a rope right away," Eve went onpractically. "I think we'd better go up to the farm where Michaelworks, it can't be far."

  Hattie May regained some slight semblance of sanity at this suggestion."You two go," she ordered. "I'll stay here by Hamish. And oh, do hurry,you can't tell what awful things are down that well--snakes andterrible toads! It must be a mile deep, at least it looks it."

  "I'll stay with Hattie May," I said. "You go find Michael, Eve."

  So Eve flew away. Hattie May put her face to the hole--while I tookfast hold on what remained of her dress--and called down cheering wordsto the prisoner. "Eve's gone for Michael," she shouted. "He works upthe road. What? What's that you said?" She lifted her face from thehole. "Sandy, did you hear that?"

  I shook my head.

  "He says," said Hattie May incredibly, "that Michael is in jail!"

  I stared at her. "You must have misunderstood," I said.

  "That's what it sounded like. You don't suppose," a new terror wasdawning in her eyes, "that being down there all this time has--hasaffected Hamish's mind?"

  "I think you misunderstood him," I repeated soothingly. "Perhaps hesaid for Michael to bring a pail."

  "A pail! Oh, then there must be water in the well after all! He'sprobably caught pneumonia!" She put her head back to the hole. "Oh,Hamish, are you very wet?"

  "He says he's dry as a bone!" she sat up. "He says he's got to have adrink right away!"

  "Well, I guess he'll just have to wait," I said.

  But Hattie May's eyes had lighted on something--a bottle on the groundwhere Eve had left it. It was the dandelion wine for Mrs. Viner. Shepounced on it. "I'm going to drop this down!" she exclaimed.

  "You're crazy, Hattie May!" I protested. "The bottle will be sure tobreak or hit him on the head. Besides," I added weakly, "very likely hedoesn't like dandelion wine--many don't."

  "How can you talk like that, Sandy, at such a moment! I guess if yourbrother was perishing of thirst and you had some drink to give him--Iguess you wouldn't hesitate!"

  "Well," I said resignedly, "if you crack his skull, I don't think itwill help matters any." But she wasn't listening. She was leaning againover the jagged aperture, the bottle in her hand. I took anotherstrangle hold on the back of her skirt and held my peace.

  The bottle disappeared into the void. Just as it did so, I heard thesound of voices behind me. Michael Gilpatrick was running toward us andbehind him was a man in blue overalls, carrying a bundle of rope.Panting in the rear, came Eve.

  "Oh, Michael, I'm glad you're not--I'm glad you came!" I cried. He gaveme barely a nod. I had never seen him look so solemn. "How'd he getdown there?" he asked going quickly to the hole and peering down.

  "We don't know--we heard him shouting."

  "Oh, do hurry," urged Hattie May. "He says he's perishing."

  The man, whom Michael called Jo, had now come up, and, without any morewords, the two set to work. We waited breathlessly, Hattie May clinginghard to my wrist, Eve still panting on the ground at our feet. Therewas an endless wait after they let down the rope while they waited forHamish to make it fast. Finally came the call to go ahead, and theybegan to haul. Inch by inch, tugging singly and together. The musclesin Michael's arms stood out brown and hard; perspiration streamed fromhis face; even the burly Jo was gasping.

  At the moment when her brother's head appeared above the hole, HattieMay let out a frightful scream. I don't know whether it was just thereaction or the sight of his straw-colored hair and face plastered withmud. But she continued to scream until the rescue was completed andHamish himself, blinking and tottering on unsteady feet, stood beforeus. "Shut up!" he said.

  His sister threw herself upon him. "Oh, Hamish, you look awful--are youhurt?"

  Michael put out a hand to unfasten the rope about his waist. "He'sokay, aren't you, Hamish?" he said, gently pushing Hattie May aside.

  "An' fer the love of Mike, how'd you manage to fall dow
n there?" Jodemanded, curiously surveying him.

  Hamish didn't answer. He was peering at Michael through near-sightedeyes--his glasses were gone. "How'd you get out?" he demanded suddenly.

  A deeper flush poured over Michael's hot face. But he only shrugged."How long have you been down there?" he asked in his turn.

  "All night," Hamish told him. "And, boy, it was some night, believe me!"

  "It must have been ghastly," returned Michael. "How in the world did ithappen?"

  But Hamish announced that he couldn't say another word till he'd had adrink. "Didn't you get the bottle I threw down?" his sister demanded.His only answer was a look!

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