120 Survival of the Fittest by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: hbfiles
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

They could barely make olt Jorge’s face, but it was obvious that just about every muscle in his body was tight with fear. The instant he saw them, he turned and ran down the gentle slope of the rock.

Joe took off after him with Frank and Kip close behind. Within seconds, Frank could feel his legs tighten as he worked hard to keep his balance on the rockface, which was slick with the rainwater. Ahead of him, Joe just kept charging down the sHppery rock.

“Careful, guys,” Kip yelled from the rear. “Watch for drop-offs.”

Sure enough, Jorge’s fleeing figure suddenly dropped out of sight, almost as if he had been swallowed up by the sandstone. Joe kept his pace, then hesitated for a moment when he reached the edge. It was about a six-foot drop to the next rock, with a long, narrow crevice in between the two. Joe jumped down, using the full flex of his leg muscles to cushion his landing before taking off again.

“Careful,” Kip said to Frank when they reached the edge. Below, they could see Joe sprinting after Jorge, gaining ground. Kip and Frank braced themselves with their hands, and then each took a flying leap. Frank could feel the weight of his pack hit him hard as he landed.

Kip landed with a “Humph.” As they took off again, he said, “There’re slots and edges like that all over the place. Just watch it.”

The two of them raced after Joe, who was stepping gingerly down some declining ledges.

“Hey, Jorge!” Joe yelled out. “We’re trying to help you. Hold up. It’s Frank and Joe Hardy.”

The teen glanced over his shoulder quickly. Then Frank saw his steps slow as he went into a crouch.

“Looks like he’s going down some kind of hole,” Joe said between breaths as Kip and Frank caught up to him.

The three made their way to a circular opening in the rockface, and Frank peered down into it. About ten feet in diameter, it gradually narrowed toward the bottom, about thirty feet down. Using his hands and feet like a spider’s legs, Jorge was inching his way down.

“Jorge!” Joe yelled. “Get out of there!”

“Do I hear water down there?” Frank said, kneeling to lean farther into the hole.

“Yep,” Kip said. “When it rains, some of these tributary washes can fill up really fast.” He knelt next to Frank. “This one sounds hke it’s pretty full.”

Joe yelled for Jorge to stop again, but he was plunging down the hole, his hands and feet sliding on the shck rock.

“He’s going to fall in the water,” Joe said between gritted teeth. He yanked off his pack and jumped into the hole, wedging himself with his feet.

“I’m going after him, guys. You get a rope,” Joe said, gripping the walls with his fingers splayed. “Jorge, hang on,” Joe called. “We’ll get you out.”

In a flash Kip pulled off his pack, opened it, and took out a climbing rope, harness, and chop blocks. He stepped into the harness and attached the rope.

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