As my old readers know, Dave was a good baseball player and, at Oak Hall, had often filled the pitcher's box with credit. He threw the stone with accuracy and vigor, and it landed fairly and squarely on the head of the wildcat. There was a weird screech, and the beast whirled around and around on the rocks, coming closer and closer to our hero. Once it clawed savagely at Dave, but he shoved the creature off before any damage was done. Then it fell down in a cleft of some rocks, where it snapped and snarled until Dave sent down a heavy boulder on top of it, thus ending its misery. "Phew!" gasped the youth, after the excitement was over. "That was almost as bad as when we shot the mountain lioness!" He had dropped the end of his torch, but now picked it up once more and commenced to move around as before. He proceeded blindly, not knowing in what direction to turn to reach the outer air. "Where can the others be?" was a question he asked himself more than once. Were they, too, caught underground, or had the awful landslide carried them down into the valley and buried them? In the course of his climbings Dave presently came to a new turn, one which had before escaped his attention. This turn led upward and gave him fresh hope. But, just as he fancied that he was getting close to the outer air, he reached a flat wall, and further progress in that direction was out of the question. His heart sank like lead in his bosom, and he walked slowly back to the point from which he had started. How to turn next he did not know. Half an hour passed, and Dave was almost in despair. His torch had reached its end and was on the point of going out. Then, not knowing what else to do, he set up a cry for help. There came no reply, and he cried again. Then he pulled out his pistol and fired a shot. The discharge of the weapon echoed and reechoed throughout the cave and brought down several small stones. Then, to Dave's intense surprise and joy, an answering shot came back. "Who is it?" he yelled. "I am here! This way! _This way!_" "Hello!" was the long-drawn-out answer, coming from some point that appeared to be over his head. "Where--are--you?" And then, as Dave's torch gave a final flicker and went out, our hero saw a shaft of light move over the rocks above his head. "It's Roger's flashlight!" he told himself, and then he set up another cry. The rays of the flashlight became stronger and of a sudden they shot downward, directly in Dave's face. "It's Dave!" came in Roger's voice. "Are you all right?" "Yes," was the ready reply. "That you, Roger?" "Yes. Phil is with me." "Were you hurt?" "Shaken up a bit, that's all," replied Phil, and now Dave saw his chums standing in an opening that was about eight feet above his head. "We had better get out of here," went on Roger, quickly. "Another landslide may bury us alive!"