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", grap the pole!" shouted Frank.

As he spoke he thrust a long scantling down into the cistern.

"Reach for my hand—grab it. You'll be drowned," continued Frank.

"Don't bother—I'm all safe," came up Markham's hollow tones. "There's only about three feet of water here."

"How did you ever come to slip in?" asked Frank.

"Say," spoke Markham, not replying to the direct inquiry, "while I'm in here I may as well see if everything is sound and straight with the cistern."

Frank saw him flare a match. Some curious thoughts were running through Frank's mind as to the strange actions of his companion and helper.

Before he could analyze them, however, Frank saw Bob Haven turn it at the gate. He had a package under his arm. Bob stood still for a moment to gaze after the person who had just preceded him.