"Hello! what can be keeping Hercus so long?" asked Robbie, when we
had walked some distance.
I told him about the rat that the dog was after, and looked back
for Willie. Not seeing him, we concluded he had gone round by the
top of the cliffs, and we continued our way a few yards further.
Then we heard Hercus calling after us in an excited way.
"Come back, lads, come back!" he shouted; and I looked at the sea
line, fearing lest it was the rising tide that Hercus was warning
us against.
"I'm not going back," objected Tom. "We've got time to get to the
other side long before the water's up. Besides, I'm hungry. I'm
going home."
"Tut, didn't we wait for you while you skinned your seal? Let's go
back," I urged. "Maybe Hercus is hurt."
"Come away back, Tom," added Rosson.
So we all returned to where Willie Hercus still remained, and
wondered what he could mean by calling us back.
When we entered the chasm we were much surprised to find Hercus
lying flat on the shingle, with his right arm deep in a hole he had
dug, and the dog at his side, wagging her tail and uttering short
barks of excitement.
"Good sakes!" exclaimed Robbie Rosson. "What's wrong with the lad?"
Much relieved we were to hear Hercus speak. I confess I had felt
certain some harm had happened to him.
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