Dick laughed. “Goodness!” palpitated the professor, as he finally struggled up to his seat. “I confess it did frighten me, boys. Made me think of those restless ghosts which are said to wander forever above the bosom of this lake. Hadn’t we better go back?” “Which way shall we go?” asked Dick. They looked around. On every hand they saw nothing but marble pillars, shadows, and grim darkness. “Waugh!” muttered the Texan. “I confess I couldn’t follow the back trail.” “But Bayazid knows the way, don’t you, Bayazid?” anxiously asked the professor. “I know it, effendi,” was the assurance. “Trust me.” “I—I’m very glad you do!” breathed Zenas. “I think we will return at once.” But Dick urged that they should go on a little farther, as Bayazid was thoroughly familiar with the place and there was no danger that they would become lost. Brad always stuck by Dick, and the two overruled the old pedagogue. Therefore Bayazid paddled slowly on. Had they seen his face they might have become suspicious and alarmed, but the shadows hid the crafty and treacherous look his countenance wore. Finally they paused again, amid the labyrinth of pillars. Without the guide, not one of them could have told which course to follow in order to return to the point from which they started. Suddenly Bayazid uttered an exclamation and stood up in the boat, staring into the darkness beyond his passengers. Involuntarily the trio turned their heads to look, wondering what it could be that the guide saw. Barely were their heads turned in that manner when the treacherous guide snatched the torch from its socket and plunged it into the water. There was a hissing sound and instant darkness. CHAPTER VII—LOST ON THE BURIED LAKE Dick Merriwell had brought along a revolver. He drew it in a moment and held it ready for use, expecting something to happen in the Stygian darkness of that terrible place. Professor Gunn cried out to Bayazid, demanding to know the meaning of his act. “Get hold of the onery varmint!” advised Buckhart. “Let me put my paws on him!” The Texan floundered about, rocking the boat somewhat. “Be careful, Brad!” warned Dick. “You don’t know what he will do! It may be intended for a joke, just to frighten us, and it may be intended for something else. I have a pistol. Keep away from him and let me do the business.” “Pup-pup-perhaps it’s pup-pup-part of the regular pup-pup-programme,” chattered Professor Gunn. “Pup-pup-perhaps they always pup-pup-put out the tut-tut-torch when they have pup-pup-passengers on this old underground pup-pup-pond.” “Be quiet,” directed Dick. “Bayazid.” He called to the guide, but there was no answer. “Bayazid!” Again he called. His voice echoed hollowly in the unseen arches above their heads. “Why doesn’t the blame fool answer?” growled Buckhart. “Strike a match, Brad,” directed Dick. “I’m holding my revolver ready for use, and I’ll shoot, if necessary, the moment I can see what to shoot at.”