But no one of the three shouted out his triumph.

Somehow it seemed that John Ball had died for them, and the thought clutched at their hearts that if they had not cut down the stub he would still be alive.

Indirectly they had brought about the death of the poor creature who for nearly half a century had lived alone with the beasts in these solitudes.

And that one glimpse of the old man on the rock, the prayerful entreaty in his wailing voice, the despair which he sobbed forth when he found his tree gone, had livened in them something that was more than sympathy.
At this moment the three adventurers would willingly have given up all hopes of gold could sacrifice have brought back that sad, lonely old man who had looked down upon them from the wall of the upper chasm.
"I am sorry we cut down the stub," said Rod.
They were the first words spoken.
"So am I," replied Wabi simply, beginning to strip off his wet clothes.

"But--" He stopped, and shrugged his shoulders.
"What ?" "Well, we're taking it for granted that John Ball is dead.