We followed along, keeping out of sight. Mr. Man was working nearer to the old clearing, when all of a sudden he let out a yell, and we could hear something busting, and in the shake of a lamb’s tail he popped out of sight. And right there I heard one of the loudest bellers I ever heard in my life. There wasn’t any use to hide any more, so all of us rushed out to see what had happened. It didn’t take long to find out. Mr. Man had gone along looking for George so busy he forgot to look out for himself, which hain’t a good plan, by any means, and he went and stepped onto some rotten boards that covered an old shallow well that had once been used when the dance-hall was doing business. Yes, sir, he stepped right on those boards and they busted under him, and down he went. When we got there he was standing about up to his waist in muddy water, and his head was just so far below the edge of the ground that he couldn’t reach up to it to climb out. He was in a nice mess, and he acted like he didn’t enjoy it. If ever a man was in a hole that man was in one, and there wasn’t the least chance in the world of his getting out of it unless somebody helped him. And the way he bellered! You would have thought he was being scalped. It wasn’t comfortable, of course, but he wasn’t in any danger as I could see. The trouble was he couldn’t get out and he was scared. “Go tell Mark,” says I to Binney. Binney ran off, and I leaned over and says to Mr. Man: “Hello down there, mister.” “Oh! Wow! Get me out of here! I’m drowndin’! I bet there’s snakes in here! Git me out quick! Please help me out!” “Wait a minute,” says I. But he wasn’t willing. He kept up yelling and howling until Mark got there. Mark leaned over and looked at him, and says, with a chuckle: “Looks like you got into t-t-trouble somehow.” “Stop gabblin’,” says the man, “and git me out.” “Workin’ for Amassa P. Wiggamore, hain’t you?” says Mark. “Yes. What’s that got to do with it? You hain’t goin’ to see a man drownd, be you?” “Has he sunk m-much since you first saw him?” says Mark to me. “You know there’s quicksand on this island.” Mark winked hard. I knew there was quicksand on the island, but it was ’way at the other end and not anywheres near that well. “Looks some lower ’n he did awhile back,” says I. “Um!...” says Mark. “Now look here, mister. Us boys started out to run a square, h-honest business. We’re operatin’ a novelty-mill. Your boss is t-tryin’ to bust our mill because he wants our dam and won’t p-pay for it. You’re helpin’ him. That’s why you’re after George Piggins. Now we didn’t put you in that well, and you can’t do us no harm while you’re down there. I guess the b-best plan for us is to l-leave you there.” Mr. Man began to blubber and bleat and roar, but Mark didn’t pay a bit of attention. “Let’s go to town,” says he. “I don’t f-f-figger there’s much danger of his sinkin’ out of sight. Come on, fellers.”