"No," he whispered. "Not yet. It may be a ghost or something who doesn't know we're here... 'Sides, I want to see if we can get out," and he turned in the darkness and began to struggle with the fallen stones. Macbeth tried to help him, too, but before Mary could say anything the mysterious voice called again, "Hello, there!" and Macbeth barked sharply.

"It's no good," Dickie said, gulping back a surprising sob. "It's no use. I can't move the beastly, vile stones. Oh, gosh, Mary, I wish I was bigger... Jus' you wait till I'm bigger, and I'll throw old rocks like this about."

Then Mary called back, "Hello, whoever you are. We're here. Will you come and rescue us, please?"

Then they saw the yellow gleam of a torch and heard the sound of running feet.

It was a cheerful young man in a khaki uniform, who stopped in astonishment when the beam of his torch picked out the twins standing hand in hand in front of a pile of fallen rock.

"Great jumping Jehosophat," he drawled. "Look who's here. I'll say it's Hansel and Gretel or the babes in the wood."

"Yes, that's right. We are Hansel and Gretel often," Dickie said.

"But not tonight," Mary added.

"We're footsore and weary," Dickie went on.

"And in need of bread and sup," Mary finished triumphantly.

"Wait! Wait!" was the stranger's reply. "I'll say you are. But what's happened here?"

"Well, you see," Dickie began patiently, "we came in, but we can't get out 'cos the rocks fell down."

"These are the rocks," Mary added politely as she gestured behind her.

The stranger scratched his head. "This shore is a rum country," he said at last. "Tell me, kiddoes, am I dreaming or is it 'bout four o'clock in the morning?"

"We wouldn't know," Mary said sweetly.

"Not having a watch, you see," Dickie added, and then they launched into the familiar formula of introduction.

"I'm Mary Morton, and this is my brother Richard."

"People call me Dickie. We're twins."

"I can see that," the stranger drawled, "but tell me - do kids like you walk about on the hills all night in this country? What are you doing here, anyway?"

"If you could just move those old rocks for us," Dickie pleaded, "we could go straight home and nobody need worry 'bout us any more."

"And thank you very much for your kindness," Mary added. "Perhaps I can hold the torch for you?"

Meekly the man handed it over and shifted a few of the fallen rocks at Dickie's direction until the huge rocking stone was disclosed.

"No good," he said. "Would take twenty of our bulldozers and a shot of dynamite to shift it... Come on, kids. You come back with me and meet my pard Jake and sit by the fire and enjoy a bite. We'll take care of you and see you get home safe... An' bring the little dawg, too."