ing to his companions), "I trust he will go when he is bid, in
which case we may be helped sooner than we can help ourselves. I
wouldn't," he added hastily, "dream of calling for help if it were not
for Tom."

Harry looked up anxiously when his companions arrived. "This is a bad
job," he said very seriously; "I fear Tom is more hurt than he allows,
and he is getting light-headed, too."

"I'll send Thor now--if he'll go," said Yaspard, and Harry's face lit
up.

"I had forgotten Thor. Yes, send him if you can."

But Thor was in a sulky and suspicious mood, and would not let his
master catch him. There were no alluring morsels left to bribe him
with; for the eggs must be kept for Tom, and a chocolate ball Thor
despised as well as cheese.

"We must wait till we have to kill a sheep," Gibbie Harrison remarked,
after all efforts to catch the raven had failed; "he will come for a
bit of red raw flesh, the ugly brute!"

"You needn't call Thor an ugly brute for eating what you kill,"
retorted Yaspard, "unless you call yourself another of the same."

They all laughed then, and the laugh did them good. It even helped to
strengthen Tom, who showed a great amount of pluck and endurance during
that trying time. He reproached himself for having brought so much
trouble on them all, and tried to bear his pain heroically; but in
spite of his own efforts, and the thoughtful attention of his comrades,
Tom's state grew rapidly worse, and before evening he was very fevered.

By that time even Yaspard considered the situation most critical for
all, and was ready to adopt any and every suggestion that might offer
the smallest alleviation of their condition.

The whole party had strongly objected to using the vault as a shelter,
but, as the day waned and the storm increased, they decided upon
retreating there, seeing that Swarta Stack offered no better refuge.

Anxiety had banished hunger, and no one felt in a mood that evening for
slaughter. An egg was whipped up with some sugar still left, and
poured down Tom's throat, and later a cup of cocoa was made for him
from the contents of Amy's box of comfits. The rest of the lads lay
down to sleep supperless--and, for the matter of that, dinnerless also,
not having tasted food since early breakfast, except half a cold
piltack and a morsel of cheese.

Yaspard and Harry resolved to watch by Tom, whose sleep was fitful and
feverish. They had not been able to remove him to the vaul