There was one aspect of the business which had not yet occurred to Fred, and which was likely to inure to the benefit of Mickey O’Rooney, the gentleman who just then stood in need of everything that came along in that line.  The Apaches were skillful and wise enough to learn from the trail which had first told them the story, that a boy and man had been caught in the cavern, and it was very evident that they all believed that there was no other avenue of escape except that by which they had entered.  At the same time, their knowledge of the peculiarities of their own country must have convinced them that it was possible that other openings, of which they knew nothing, might exist, and might become known to the prisoners.

The last Indian who went down must have known that the lad who assisted him was one of the parties for whom they were yearning, and his presence was proof that he had made the fortunate discovery which was denied the natives of the territory.  If the lad had emerged by that means into the outer world, the natural supposition would be that his companion had done the same, and that, therefore, neither of the fugitives were below, the inevitable conclusion being that the tables had been completely turned upon them.  Such was certain to be the conclusion of the Apaches, and it remained for Mickey O’Rooney to use ordinary prudence and keep himself out of the way of the redskins, to secure a chance of further outwitting them by a bold piece of generalship.

Fred repeated his whistle four or five times, with an interval of ten minutes, when his hopes were raised to the highest pitch by hearing it answered.  In his excitement he thrust his head far over the opening, gave the signal again to prevent mistakes, and listened.

A full minute elapsed, when the reply came, sounding faint and far away.  It showed that Mickey was at a considerable distance from the opening, and that he heard and understood the situation.  To make matters still more certain, the lad now shouted at the top of his voice, holding both hands so as to inclose his mouth like a tunnel.

“Mickey, I’m up here with a lasso!  Nobody else is here!  Whenever you can get the chance, get hold of the lasso, and climb up!  I will let it down after a while!”

It cannot be said that this was a very wise proceeding upon the part of the lad; for it was likely that some one of the half dozen Apaches understood English well enough to comprehend what he said.  To clinch the business, Fred yelled a few more words.

“If you understand me, Mickey, whistle!”

The words were no more than fairly uttered when the desired response was made, faintly, but, nevertheless, distinctly.

“That’s good,” concluded the delighted lad.  “Now all I have to do is to wait for him to get the chance, and he will come up the lasso, and then we’ll be done with the cave.”

This, certainly, was all that he had to do, but, at the same time, this amounted to a good deal.