"I don't know. Chunky fell in and I fell on him."

"Is he hurt?"

"I don't know. I guess I knocked the wind out of him."

"How far down are you?" demanded Dad peering in, holding his torch low,
exposing a hole about six feet square at the top, widening out as it
extended downward.

"I---I don't know. It felt like a mile when I came down. Hurry. Think
I want to stay here all night?"

"If Stacy isn't able to help himself, tie the rope around his waist and
we will haul him up," directed Tad.

"Serve him right to leave him here," retorted Ned.

"All right, we will leave you both there, if you feel that way," answered
Nance grimly.

"He doesn't mean it," said Tad. "Ned must have his joke, no matter how
serious the situation may be." Tad lowered his rope, loop first. "Well,
how about it?" he called.

"I've made it fast. Haul away." Chunky was something of a heavy weight.
It required the combined efforts of those at the top to haul him out.
Dragging Stacy to the surface, Tad dropped beside the fat boy, giving
him a shake and peering anxiously into his eyes, shouting, "Stacy!