“Thank the good Lord!  I knew He would not forget me.  He let me hunt around for a while, long enough to make me feel I couldn’t do anything, and then He stepped in.  The wolf came.  I didn’t think I could make anything out of him, but I grabbed his tail.  I held on and here I am.  Thank the good Lord again.”

When able to control himself still further, Fred made a survey of his surroundings.  In the first place, he observed that the forenoon was only fairly under way, the sun having risen just high enough to be visible.  The sky was clear of clouds and the day promised to be a beautiful one, without being oppressively warm.

“It is strange that I could not find the opening when the wolf scampered straight to it.”

However, he did not stop to puzzle over the matter.  It was sufficient to know and feel that he was back again in the busy, bustling world, saved from being buried in a living tomb.

An examination of the point where he had debouched from these Plutonian regions showed Fred that he was considerably below the general regions of the earth.  He was in a sort of valley, surrounded by rocks and boulders, and the opening through which he had scrambled was situated sidewise, so that at a distance of ten feet it could not be seen.  This accounted for the fact that none of the Indians knew any other means of ingress and egress excepting the opening in the roof of the cave.  It was almost impossible to discover, except by accident or long continued and systematic search.

Fred’s next thought was regarding Mickey O’Rooney, and he questioned himself as to the best means of reaching him, and assisting him to the same remarkably good fortune which had attended himself.  The immediate suggestion, naturally, was to re-enter the cave and, after hunting up his old friend, conduct Mickey to the outer world, but it required only brief deliberation to convince him of the utter folly of such an attempt.  In the first place, should he re-enter the cave, he would be lost again, not knowing in what direction to turn to find his friend and entirely unable to communicate with him by signal, as had been their custom when separated and looking for each other.  Should he venture away from the tunnel to renew his search, it was scarcely possible that he could find his way back again.  He would not only lose Mickey, but he would lose himself, with not the remotest chance of finding his way into the outer world again.  So it was clearly apparent that, having been delivered from prison, it would not do for him to go back under any circumstances.  He must remain where he was, and whatever assistance he could render his friend, must be given from the outside.  How was this to be done?