DANNY Orlis pushed past Glen and stepped slowly into the dark, cold, musty cabin. His heart was hammering in his throat, and his mouth went hot and dry.
"They aren't here!" he gasped.
Glen Davis's face was white, and his lower lip was quivering. "Maybe they went on," he said at last.
But Danny shook his head. He was looking past his companion toward the snow-filled sky and the dark shadows that were rapidly covering the mountains. "No," he said dully. "Look at the cobwebs and the dust on the floor. There hasn't been anyone in this cabin for weeks!"
"What do you suppose happened to them?" Glen asked, his voice taut with fear.
Danny stepped outside, shuddering as he felt the snow, wet and cold against his cheek.
For a split second his heart faltered. Back along the trail a few hundred yards was the cliff that seemed to drop off into nothingness. If one of them had slipped there—Danny bit his lips and grimly forced the thought from his mind.
"They just couldn't disappear," he said. "They have got to be somewhere."
Glen turned, his eyes widening with excitement. "I just thought of something!" he exclaimed. "Larry never used to follow the regular trail all the way up. He always took a short cut!"
"A short cut!" Danny echoed.
"It was Larry's own. He always left the trail about halfway up and made his way across the face of the cliff until he came to a place where he could climb."
"I wish you'd thought of that before," Danny told him. "We might have known he'd go that way."
"We could never climb it anyway," Glen replied. "I went part way with him once, but I had to go back. That wall is almost straight up for a couple of hundred feet." He shuddered at the thought of it. "And straight down almost a thousand."
The color left Danny's face, and he caught his breath sharply.
"If everything went all right for them, they'd have been here a long while ago," Glen managed.
For several minutes Danny stood there clenching his fists and staring out into the growing darkness. The snow was falling harder now, and the wind was rising. He could hear the icy blast, whistling through the trees. It would be blowing its frigid blasts wherever Larry and Joe were hiding—on the treacherous mountain slopes or huddled among the trees.
"We've got to go back and see what happened to them!" he said hoarsely.
His companion took a deep breath. "If you're going, Danny, I'm going, too."
Without saying any more the two boys closed the cabin door and knelt in prayer.
Glen was first. "O God," he began uncertainly, "You know about Larry and Joe out on the mountain alone. You know what's happened to them, whether they're just scared or if one of them is hurt and in trouble. Please watch over them and keep them safe from harm." He stopped for a moment. "O Lord Jesus, help Danny and me as we go out to look for them. And keep us safe, and help us to find them."
When they had finished praying, they got quickly to their feet. Glen unsnapped his scout flashlight and turned it on to check the batteries.
"They're okay," he said. "That's one thing I never come up into the mountains without. Now, if we only had a good chunk of rope."
"I saw one over in the corner," Danny told him. "Just a minute, and I'll get it."
The trail, if you could call it that, was steep and rugged. In some places it lay along the lip of the cliff, so close that Danny held his breath as he edged along. The wind had died down a little, but the snow was still filling the air, and the darkness was creeping stealthily in until they could scarcely make out the outline of trees and rocks a stone's throw away.
They fumbled slowly along the narrow, dangerous trail. Danny was frightened, so frightened that his breath was coming in short, quick gasps, and the sweat was standing out on his forehead. But, despite all that, he could feel the presence of Someone with him—Someone holding his hand and guiding him.
Glen must have felt the same way, for a moment or two later he said, "It sure makes a guy feel better to pray, doesn't it?"
The cliff had suddenly become steeper, and Danny could feel his heart throbbing against his ribs. Every few feet Glen stopped and swept the area with his light. Just as they reached the big boulder, Danny heard something above the sound of the wind.
"Did you hear anything?" he demanded, grasping Glen by the sleeve.
His companion shook his head.
And then it came again, from somewhere among the rocks below.
"Help! Help!" a voice cried weakly.