CHAPTER XV.
THE SCREAM THAT STARTED A RACE Yet even as the three boys dashed toward the two spruce trees the light went out.
Tom pressed frantically on the spring of the lamp as he ran, but the lamp gave forth a flickering gleam that was little better than no light at all.
The long use of the lamp in the cave had weakened the storage battery.
"Give us the light!" called Dave, as they reached the tree.
"Can't! The battery's on a strike," answered Reade grimly.
Dick Prescott, who was ahead of his companions, now halted, whispering to the others to do the same.
The man they sought had vanished.

No betraying sounds came to indicate where he had gone.
"Dave and I'll stay here," whispered Dick.

"Tom, run back for a lantern.

Hustle!" Fifteen minutes of eager searching, after the lantern was brought, failed to give any clue to the whereabouts of the man whom they sought.
"This is more ghostly than human," laughed young Prescott.
They felt compelled to give up the search.

As they returned to the camp the firing on the opposite side of the lake broke out anew.