At the moment when Skip Miller knocked away the joist which supported the timbers at the top of the tunnel, Fred had stooped to pick up his shovel, and this position saved him from being instantly killed.
One end of the shoring plank was yet held by the upright placed in the center of the cutting, and it remained at an angle, although pinning him down, while the earth covered him completely.
For a moment he was at a loss to know what had happened, and then he heard, as if from afar off, Joe calling him by name.
"Here I am under the timber," he replied.
"Are you hurt much?"
"I think not; but I shall stifle to death if the dirt isn't taken away soon."
"It ain't a sure thing that you won't stifle even then," he heard Bill say sharply. "Take hold, mate, an' let's get him from beneath while we have a chance to breathe."
Then the grating of the shovels was distinguished, and pound by pound the weight was removed until nothing save the timber held him down.
"Can you get out now?" Joe asked, and his voice sounded strangely indistinct.
"Not till the joist is pulled away."
"When that is done it's safe to say tons of the roof will follow," Bill muttered, and Joe asked:
"Does it hurt you much, lad?"
"The edges are cutting into my back terribly."
"Grin an' bear it as long as you can. Our only chance for life is to break through the wall into the old tunnel; but if that timber is taken away it's good-bye for all hands."
"Then don't bother about me. It's better one died than three."
There was no reply to this. The men were digging at the barrier of earth with feverish energy, and each instant respiration became more difficult. The slight amount of air which filtered through the bank of slate and sand was no more than sufficient for one pair of lungs.
The darkness was profound. The lamps had been extinguished by the shock, and five minutes later it was impossible to re-light them. The oxygen had become so nearly exhausted that a match would not burn.
Fred bit his lips to prevent an outcry. The huge timber was crushing him slowly but surely, and the pain was intense.
Each instant the blows of the men grew fainter. Strength and even the power of movement was rapidly succumbing to the noxious vapor.
Joe was the first to give up, and as the pick fell from his nerveless hands he said faintly:
"It's all over, lads. We might as well pull the timber from Fred, and die at the same moment."
"Don't weaken, mate," Bill said, imploringly. "Who knows but we're within a few inches of the other drift."
"Even if that's true, the chances are we'll be stifled by the gas."
"The alarm may be given in time to save us from the entrance."
"Sam can't have come back yet, an' before any one knows what has happened we shall be dead."
Joe had lost all courage and the apathy of despair was upon him. His words robbed Fred of the last hope, and as it fled consciousness deserted him.
Bill delivered a few more feeble blows with the pick, and then he in turn sank to the ground.
The hand of death was very nearly upon them, and the agonies of dissolution already passed.
Within a few feet of where the unconscious men lay, willing hands were working at the obstruction. No more than three could labor at once, but these were relieved every two minutes, in order that their energy might not be impaired by weariness, and meanwhile others shoveled the slate and earth into cars, that the drift might be kept clear.
Mr. Wright personally assisted in the labor, and it was he who began the cheering which ensued when an aperture was made in the barrier.
"At it with a will, boys," he shouted, "but be careful about removing the timber, for some of the poor fellows may be beneath it."
The foul air rushing out nearly overcame the laborers, but the eager rescuers heeded not their own peril, and the moment finally came when the unconscious ones were fully exposed to view.
"Pass out the men, and then dig beneath the boy; he must be released in that manner, otherwise we may all share their fate," and Mr. Wright shoveled the earth carefully away from Fred, while the others carried Joe and Bill into the drift.
From his place of concealment on the hillside Skip Miller saw a party of men come out of the slope bearing an ominous looking burden.
"One of them is dead," he whispered to himself, as his face paled.
Then came another party, and a few seconds later the third, each carrying a similar load, marched down the road leading to the village.
The sight nearly overpowered Skip; he shook as if in an ague fit, and after staring at the sad spectacle until the men had passed from view, he turned and ran through the grove, believing the officers were close upon him.
The news that two miners and a boy had probably been killed spread through the village rapidly, and Cale Billings was in Taylor's groggery when one of the late rioters brought the intelligence.
"It's a wonder they don't accuse us of havin' somethin' to do with the accident," the newcomer added, and the proprietor said sternly:
"I don't want to drive customers away, but if any who come here have had a hand in murder, they'd better not show their heads 'round this place again."
Billings looked disturbed, but made no reply. Although having had no direct share in the crime, he knew he was really an accomplice, and the knowledge that Taylor might inform against him was by no means pleasant.
It was eight o'clock in the evening when Skip ventured to come down from the hillside, and he looked like a boy who had been very ill. Even at this late hour he did not dare to walk through the village, but skulked around the outskirts until he saw Chunky, whom he hailed in a whisper.
"Where have you been?" Fred's chute mate asked in surprise.
"I had some work on the other side of the hill."
"Have you been there all day?"
"Yes. Jest got back. Are those fellows dead!"
Ordinarily Chunky was not quick to arrive at conclusions, but now he asked in a suspicious tone:
"How did you know anything about it if you've jest got back?"
"Oh, I heard from some of the fellows."
"Who?"
"Never mind," and Skip spoke sharply.
"Did they all get killed?"
"None of 'em; but the doctor says Fred won't be over it for three or four days. Joe an' Bill are both in bed, though they'll be out in the morning."
"Does Wright know who did it?"
"Did what?"
"Why, knock—whatever was done."
"I thought the roof of a cuttin' fell in 'cause it wasn't shored up enough."
"I s'pose that was the reason," Skip replied in a nervous way.
"It seems to me you know more about this thing than anybody else."
"You'd better not say that again," and Skip stepped forward a few paces with clenched fists.
"You can get the best of me, so I'll have to hold my tongue; but I reckon I've had all I want of the regulators. Tryin' to kill a feller who never did much of anything to you is a mean trick."
"Shut up or I'll knock your head off. You can't back out of our s'ciety, an' if you ever say I tried to kill anybody I'll pound you till there won't be an inch of skin left."
Chunky did not wait to hear more. He started at full speed toward his own home, and Skip was more alarmed than before.
"Now I'm in a worse scrape than ever, for he's jest fool enough to tell what he knows, an' then there will be trouble. I'd better go to meet Billings, an' perhaps he can help me out."
He could reach the rendezvous without going through the village, and greatly to his relief the leader of the rioters was waiting to receive him.
"Now this is somethin' like business," and Billings patted the boy on the head.
Skip stepped back; the touch of the man's hand now, when through him he had gotten into so much trouble, was disagreeable.
"What am I to do?" he asked fiercely.
"Help me finish what you've begun."
"I won't do it. They'll have me arrested, an' you must get me through the scrape."
"So I will after I've served the company out. We'll go off somewhere together."
"And I'm to leave home?"
"There's nothin' for it if Wright gets the idea that you knocked the timber away."
"If he doesn't know it already there are them who will tell him. Chunky thinks I did somethin' to help the thing along."
"He does, eh?" and now Billings began to look disturbed. "Is he likely to go to any of the bosses?"
"He might tell some one else who would do it."
"That's true. What with him an' Taylor, things begin to seem kinder scarey for me."
"I'm in worse trouble."
"You're right, an' that shows we two must keep together."
"But I don't want to leave home."
"You can't help yourself. Once in the scrape, it's bad to back out."
Skip had good evidence that the way of the transgressor is hard. He felt a decided repugnance to becoming Billings' constant companion, but he dared not go home, and it seemed as if there was no other course left open.
"It won't do to stay here very long, for folks might see us, and it wouldn't be hard to guess we were up to mischief. Will you go with me, or take the chances of bein' arrested?"
"I'll have to do what you say," Skip replied with agroan, and Billings started straight across the hill toward the abandoned shaft.
"Where are you going?"
"We'll hide for a while. It ain't safe to loaf 'round here much longer. Here's a dollar. Go to Taylor's an' get somethin' to eat. Tell him I want cooked food, 'cause I'm bound on a tramp."
"I don't dare show up there."
"Move on, or I'll break every bone in your body! You've got to toe the mark now if you don't want to go to jail."
Billings used the tone of a master, and Skip understood that his crime had brought him to slavery of the most degrading kind.
The groggery was filled with men when he arrived, and in the number he found safety. All were excitedly discussing the accident, some intimating that Billings had a hand in it, and no one paid any particular attention to the frightened boy who crept cautiously in, as if to avoid being seen.
"Wants grub, eh?" Taylor asked, when Skip made known his errand. "What's he up to? Afraid they'll nab him for what was done to-day?"
"I don't know."
"Now, look here, Skip Miller, I ain't got any too much love for you, but it don't seem right to let a boy go on as you've begun. Go home now, an' leave Billings to take care of his own business."
"If I don't carry back the stuff he'll say I stole his money."
"Well, take the grub, an' then get back as soon as you know how."
"All right," Skip replied meekly.
"If you're not home in half an hour I'll see your father to-night."
"I wish I dared to go," Skip said to himself as he hurried away with the bundle. "Workin' in the breaker ain't a marker to what it'll be runnin' around with Cale Billings."
Not until two days had elapsed were the victims of the "accident" able to leave their rooms, and then they met Sam and Mr. Wright at Mrs. Byram's home.
"We'll be ready for work in the morning," Bill said in reply to the superintendent's inquiries. "What troubles me is that I've lost the plan of the old mine. It was in my blouse when the timber fell, an'——"
"How that joist could have got away without some one to help it is what worries me," Joe interrupted. "I set it, an' know the weight from above could not have any effect."
"There is no chance of foul play. The level has been guarded night and day, therefore, unless our trusted men are at fault, it was purely an accident."
"I'm not sayin' it wasn't; but yet the whole business looks queer," and with this remark Joe dismissed the subject from his mind.
Mr. Wright had come to learn when the guardians of the level would be ready to return to duty, and Bill's answer sufficed.
"The men who have been there during the past twenty-four hours shall be given other work in the morning, and once more I can rely on you. Thus far nothing suspicious has been seen or heard," he said, "and I begin to believe Billings has given up his thoughts of revenge. The only strange thing is that Miller's boy has disappeared, and his father can think of no reason why he should run away."
"Farley's won't be the loser if he never comes back," Joe replied. "That boy is a bad one, an' it wouldn't take much to make me believe he an' Billings are firm friends."
"There is no necessity of talking about him; we are not afraid of boys. The question is whether we are warranted in guarding the lower level much longer."
"That's for you to say, sir. We had rather be at our regular work."
"Well, we'll try it a day or two more. Perhaps you'd better break through into the old drift, and then we shall know whether it is possible for evil-disposed persons to find a hiding place there."
This closed the interview so far as Mr. Wright was concerned, and on his leaving the house the others discussed the work to be done the following day; but Skip Miller's disappearance had little place in the conversation.
Bill mourned the loss of the plan, which was supposed to be the only guide to the old mine, but Joe did not think it was of such very great importance.
"All we care to know is whether the air's foul, an', of course, the best way is to finish the tunnel whichcame so near finishin' us. That work can be done without any guide."
"But we may want to follow up the drift, which will be a long job if we have to go on blindly."
"There's no use fussin' over what can't be helped. The paper got trampled into the dirt, most likely, otherwise them as have been lookin' would 'a found it before this."
"I don't feel like givin' over the search so easy; s'pose we four have a reg'lar hunt in the morning?"
"Sam and I will go now," Fred said. "We shall feel better for a little exercise after being cooped up in the house so long."
"Very well. Take a turn at it this afternoon, an' if you don't succeed Joe an' I'll try to-night."
The boys set off without delay, but they were a long while reaching the slope, for every person on the street thought it necessary to congratulate them upon having escaped a terrible death, and at the breaker Donovan delayed the search by making minute inquiries as to the condition of affairs in the drift just prior to the accident.
"Any one would think from all these questions that you believed somebody was responsible for the trouble," Sam said with a laugh.
"P'rhaps I do. Billings an' Skip Miller disappeared on the same day, an' that looks suspicious to me, though Mr. Wright won't listen to anything of the kind."
"It's a big satisfaction to know they have left," Fred added, "and we have gotten rid of them cheaply. Do you know where they went?"
"Out of the village somewhere; Harvey saw them walking up the track."
"Then we can reckon that there'll be no more mischief done for a while. Come on, Fred, let's get down the slope."
The boys left the breaker without noticing that Chunky was trying to attract their attention, and were soon in the lower level making a systematic search.
Shoveling over the loose dirt along the track, they continued on until the cutting which had so nearly been a grave for Fred was passed, and then Sam said as he halted:
"It's no use to hunt here. It couldn't have got up this way."
"The draught may have carried it quite a distance."
"There isn't air enough stirrin' to move it a foot; but it won't do much harm to look."
They were nearly at the chamber where Sam was taken prisoner before Fred abandoned the hunt, and as he turned to retrace his steps both came to a sudden halt.
As if from beneath their feet arose a muffled cry of distress.
The boys looked at each other in alarm, and as they stood motionless the mysterious sound was repeated.
"What can it mean?" Fred asked in a whisper.
"That's more'n I can tell. There's no drift below this."
"That was surely a human being, and in trouble of some kind."
"Perhaps the cry comes from the end of the drift which has been closed."
"It sounds under the ground right here," and Fred stamped with his foot just as the noise was heard for the third time.
"There's no question about it's being a man. Come on; let's bring some of the miners to help find him."
The boys ran down the drift at full speed, and half an hour later returned with two of the miners.
"It was right here that we heard it," Sam said, as he pointed to the shovels they had left behind, in order to mark the spot.
The party listened intently, but no sound save their own breathing could be distinguished.
"I thought you'd been frightened about nothing," one of the miners said with a laugh. "You might as well tell us the mine was haunted as to give out such a yarn. I'll guarantee that nothin' larger'n a mouse could hide here."
"But we surely heard a cry," Fred insisted.
"And it seemed to come from beneath our feet."
"Nonsense. It's foolish to make such talk when we know the thing's impossible," and the men turned away as if angry at having been brought so far on a useless errand.
"We know whether——"
Sam ceased speaking very suddenly, for at that moment the sound of distress came with great distinctness.
The men looked around, each trying to hide his fear, and then a regular search was begun.
The noise could not have come from the old drift, and the level was examined thoroughly, but without success.
"It beats me," one of the miners said at length. "I'm sure there's nothing beneath here but the solid earth."
"Let the boys tell Wright," the other suggested, and his companion assented.
"We'll hang around here till he comes or you get back; but don't stay very long, for I don't like the looks of things."
"Why not?"
"It may be a warnin' for some of us. I've heard tell of such."
Fred laughed heartily, and the man replied impatiently:
"When you've been in a mine as long as I have, you won't think there's any fun to be made of warnin's. Before the explosion of fire damp in the old workings, I've been told the miners heard all kinds of queer noises."
"Go on," the second man said fretfully, "an' don't waste time chinnin' here when p'rhaps we oughter be gettin' out to save our lives."
The boys started, feeling a trifle disturbed because of the unexplainable cries, and arrived at the store as the whistle sounded for the night shift to begin work.
The superintendent was surprised by the information brought, and insisted, as had the miners, that the sounds could not have been made by a human being.
"I will go down the slope at once, however," he said, and the boys accompanied him on what proved to be a useless errand.
Every portion of the lower level was searched. A party descended the old shaft, traversing the abandonedpassages to the chamber connecting with the new portion of the workings, but nowhere could be seen any signs of life.
Joe and Bill, alarmed because the boys had not returned, came to look for them in time to join the exploring parties, and the latter was decidedly uneasy when Mr. Wright ordered the useless labor to be stopped.
He, in common with several others, believed the mysterious noises to be warnings, and there was every evidence of a panic until Mr. Wright spoke at considerable length on the subject, intimating that the cries were due to natural causes.
Then those who were off duty went home, and among them were Joe, Bill, and their helpers.
These last discussed the subject without arriving at any definite conclusion when the time to separate arrived.
On the following morning work was resumed in the cutting. The loose earth having been cleared away, a reasonably solid roof was put up, and once more the tunneling operations were pushed forward vigorously.
All hands were on the alert for a repetition of the mysterious cries, but nothing was heard save the noise of the picks and shovels, with now and then a muffled crash as fragments of the vein were detached by blasts.
During the "nooning" lunch was eaten in the cutting, and while they were sitting quiet a singular vibration of the earth could be felt.
"It seems as if some one was digging directly beneath us," Fred said, when the little party ceased eating to gaze at each other in surprise.
"Most likely there's a line of slate just under our feet, an' brings the sound from the other drift," Joe replied promptly.
"That's about the size of it," Bill added; but the boys noticed that both the men listened from time to time as if in great perplexity.
The peculiar tapping continued without interruption, and before the time of rest had more than half expired Joe said, as he arose to his feet:
"Come on, lads. We're close to the old drift, an' after that's been opened we'll have another look around, for I want to find out what these queer noises mean."
Each one worked with the utmost rapidity, and when another hour had been spent Bill's pick broke through the barrier of earth.
"That ends the job, an' now to see how the air is."
The miner had hardly ceased speaking when a huge volume of gas burst through the aperture, nearly suffocating the party and extinguishing the lamps instantly.
"Jump to it lively, boys!" Joe cried hoarsely, as he began shoveling back the earth. "When you can't work any longer get a breath of fresh air in the drift."
There was every danger that the lower level might be so filled with the noxious vapor as to cause an explosion, and both men and boys labored manfully.
All were working blindly, but the general direction of the aperture was known, and the greater portion of the earth could be thrown with a fair degree of accuracy.
Ten minutes passed and the flow of foul air was partially checked. Twice had each person been forced to retreat to the main drift, and Fred was about to go forthe third time when it seemed as if the flooring of dirt gave way beneath his feet.
Half suffocated by the gas, and overwhelmed by the falling fragments, he hardly realized what had occurred until finding himself in what was unmistakably another and yet lower tunnel or drift.
After the first alarm passed away, Fred understood that he had fallen but a few yards, and the earth which covered him represented only a very small portion of the upper tunnel's floor.
Scrambling to his feet he fancied for a moment that the sound of scurrying footsteps could be heard, and while listening, Joe said:
"Hello! Are you hurt?"
"Not a bit."
"Where are you?"
"It seems like a regular cutting, and the air is pure."
"Light your lamp an' look around."
Obeying this command, Fred found his suspicions correct, and so reported.
"Can you get back?"
"Not unless you pull me up."
"We'll attend to that in a minute."
The rush of air from below had so far checked the gas, now partially shut off, that the men could alsolight the lamps in their caps, and the remainder of the task was quickly accomplished.
With a couple of timbers as braces the aperture to the old mine was closed securely, and then the attention of the men was turned to the boy.
"Look out down there!" Bill shouted. "I'm goin' to drop a couple of joists so's we can come back."
"Let them go."
"Now drag 'em out of the way, an' we'll follow."
When this had been done the men and Sam descended, all completely mystified by this new discovery.
"Here's somethin' that I reckon Mr. Wright didn't know about," Bill said, as he surveyed the scene, and then he added with great emphasis as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Now we can come pretty nigh guessing what them noises meant. Some one has been tryin' to get into the other level, an' when a big hole was made Fred put an end to the work by fallin' through."
This could be told by the mound of earth a short distance away, as well as by the marks of a pick around the edges of the aperture; but further proof was found in the shape of a shovel which Sam stumbled over.
"This belongs to the company," he cried, pointing to the brand.
"Yes, an' a blind man can figger who's been here. Cale Billings didn't leave town as he tried to make folks believe."
"Then let's have him. This cuttin' can't be so long but that we'll get all over it before sunset," Joe cried, as he wrenched the shovel handle from the iron work to serve as a weapon.
"I thought I heard somebody running in that direction when I first fell," Fred said, pointing toward the quarter in which it was reasonable to suppose the old shaft might be found.
Joe led the way, the others following close behind until, when half a mile had been traversed, they arrived at two slopes or inclined tunnels, running at right angles from the level.
"It won't do to pass these," Bill cried. "We'll take one, while the boys search out the other."
He darted into the right-hand opening as he spoke; but returned before Joe could join him, saying:
"That was a false cutting. It only runs a dozen yards, an' there's nothin' in it. Sam, you an' Fred look into the other one while we keep on."
The idea of coming upon Cale Billings while they were unarmed was not a pleasant idea for the boys; but they would have braved considerably greater danger rather than show signs of fear, and both obeyed promptly.
This slope ran at an inclination of nearly forty-five degrees for about fifty yards when it turned sharply to the right, terminating in a small chamber where the vein had probably came to an end.
As Sam and Fred entered the place a figure darted from one corner and attempted to rush past them; but the flight was checked very suddenly.
"Why it's Skip Miller!" Sam cried, as he lowered his lamp that the rays might fall upon the prisoner's face.
"Yes, it's me," Skip said, piteously. "Please don't drag me off."
"Please don't drag me off," Skip said, piteously. "I'll never hurt you or anybody else again.""Please don't drag me off," Skip said, piteously. "I'll never hurt you or anybody else again."
"How did you come here?"
"With Billings; he made me do jest what he said, an' I didn't dare to show up in town."
"Why not?"
"'Cause I knew Mr. Wright would have me 'rested on account of pretty nigh killin' you."
"What?" Fred cried, in surprise. "Then it wasn't an accident?"
Skip literally groveled on the ground in his fear. He understood now that his share in that business had not been known until he himself betrayed the fact.
"Don't lug me off," he screamed. "I'd have to go to jail."
"You wouldn't so long as we kept the thing a secret," Fred replied, with a feeling of mingled pity and contempt because of the abject terror displayed. "We must take you with us; but needn't tell about your villainy."
"Then father would just about beat me to death for runnin' away. Why not let me stay here? I'll never hurt you or anybody else again."
Although Skip had tried to kill them, the boys felt a certain sense of aversion to dragging him away while he pleaded so piteously, and in order to gain time in which to think the matter over, Sam said:
"Tell us how you got into the lower level."
In a faltering voice Skip gave a truthful account of all his movements on that particular day.
"Have you been here ever since?"
"Yes."
"And Billings, too?"
"He went out twice for whisky an' some water."
"What have you been doing?"
"Billings made me dig an' shovel all day, an' most of the night."
"Trying to get into the lower level, eh?"
"Yes, an' when I got played out he pretty near pounded my head off."
"I reckon we heard you yelling. Where is Billings now?"
"He ran ahead of me when the earth began to cave in, an' that's the last I've seen of him. Say, it won't hurt you a bit to let me stay here, an' I'll do the square thing if I ever get out of the scrape."
"You'd starve to death."
"I'd rather take the chances of that than go to jail, or let father get hold of me."
"But what good will it be to stay here?" Fred asked. "Hiding won't mend matters, and you'll have to come out some time."
"That may be; but I don't want to go now," and once more Skip fell on his knees in front of those whom he had wronged.
"What do you think about it, Fred?" Sam asked, in a whisper.
"I don't like to yank him out, no matter what he tried to do to me."
"Nor I."
"Then why not let him stay? He'll get punishment enough by hiding here alone in the darkness with nothing to eat."
"But we shall have to give him a little grub. We can't think he's hungry when we're got plenty."
"I'll agree to whatever you say."
Sam was silent for a moment, and then turning to the kneeling boy, he asked:
"Could you find your way out of here?"
"I might if I had a lamp; but the oil has all been burned in mine."
"How long do you count on staying?"
"Jest as many days as I can."
"Well, see here, we're going off, an' leave you to take the dose in your own way; but it's on the agreement that you try to be a decent fellow after gettin' out."
"I'll promise anything, an' won't so much as say the name regulators agin."
"If it's possible, Fred an' I'll bring you some grub; but you mustn't count on it."
"Don't take any risks," Skip replied, humbly. "I can live on wind a couple of days if that villain of a Billings don't come back."
"You needn't worry about that. If he went up the drift Bill an' Joe will most likely nab him. Come, Fred, we mustn't stay any longer, or they'll think something is wrong."
As the boys turned to go Skip tried to thank them for the mercy shown; but did not make a great success at it. He had been literally trembling with fear, and now his gratitude rendered him almost incapable of speech.
"That's all right, Skip. We'll see whether you mean it or not after you get out."
"I'll be square as a brick if I ever get through with this scrape," he replied, and then as the boys turned the angle of the slope he was hidden from view in the darkness.
"I don't know as we're actin' very sensible," Sam said, slowly, when they were in the drift once more; "but it's better than draggin' the poor beggar off to be arrested."
"A good idea, Sam, and I'm sure Skip will be a decent fellow after this. We must try to get back here to-night with food and oil."
"Unless Joe and Bill keep us at work we'll have plenty of time, for—hello! Here they come now!"
The two miners could be seen in the distance, or, rather, the light of their lamps was visible, and when they were within speaking distance, Fred asked:
"Did you find him?"
"No; we've followed up the drift as far as we dared, an' are now goin' back to see if any of the day crew know these old works. Where did that slope lead to?"
"It ends about fifty yards from here."
"Didn't see anything of the villains, eh?"
"Billings isn't there, that's certain," Fred replied after a brief hesitation.
The men did not appear to notice the equivocal answer, and Bill suggested that they return to the workings without further delay.
"We'll have a guard set at the shaft, so he can't give us the slip in that way, an' if any of the boys know these drifts it won't be a long job to smoke him out."
"He may get off before we can reach the top of the slope," Fred suggested, hoping by this means to prevent the conversation from reverting to their long delay.
"Then so much the better, lad," Bill replied, in a tone of satisfaction. "All we want is to be rid of such trash, an' if he leaves town that's enough."
If at this moment either of the party had turned it would not have been difficult to distinguish even in the gloom the form of Cale Billings, as he followed ready to work further mischief, or escape as might be most convenient.
Unsuspicious of the nearness of their enemy, the little party continued on to the hole through which Fred had fallen, and as they clambered up the joists the leader of the rioters muttered:
"Don't think you can smoke me out so easy. I'll leave my mark on this mine before bein' run down, or know the reason why."
Neither Sam nor Fred gave so much as a passing thought to the man who was responsible for all the damage which had been done; they were so engrossed with the desire to aid Skip without being discovered by those who might call him to an account for his crime that all else seemed as trifles.
"I'll tell mother, and she will cook for us what may be needed," Fred whispered, after they were in the lower level walking rapidly toward the slope.
"That part of it don't trouble me so much as how we're to come back to the mine without bein' seen by some of the men," Sam replied, and, turning sharply Bill asked:
"What are you fellers chinnin' about?"
"There's no harm in talkin', eh?" and Sam assumed an air of impudence such as the men had never seen before.
"I don't reckon there is, lad; but seein' as how we've hung together so long, it wasn't strange to ask."
"I didn't mean to be too fresh, Bill," Sam replied, understanding that he had spoken in a disagreeable manner. "Fred and I were only figuring about coming back to make sure Billings didn't get into the level while you were outside."
"That part of it can be fixed easy. Joe shall go to the store while I see if anybody here knows about the old drift, and with three on guard I don't reckon he can do much mischief."
"Then you can stay with him while I run home for some provisions," Fred whispered, and during this conversation Cale Billings was clambering up the joist which led to the last level.
Knowing that Joe and Bill were in Mr. Wright's confidence Donovan had no hesitation about placing guards as desired, and immediately after they ascended from the slope every exit was closely watched.
"Now you boys can see we've fixed things in proper shape," Bill said, in a tone of triumph. "Do whatever you choose until to-morrow, an' Joe an' me'll attend to Mr. Billings' case."
"But he might get into the lower level by the same way we did," Sam ventured to suggest.
"There are plenty below to take care of that."
"Then there's no reason why we should come back?"
"Not unless you want to see the game played out."
"We'll run down to Fred's house, and then have a look at the place where he went through."
"Suit yourselves about that," was the careless reply, as Bill started toward the store to confer with the superintendent.
"Now is our chance," Sam whispered. "It won't take us more than ten minutes to run over to your house, and we can get back before Bill comes."
Fred started at a rapid pace, and by the time the miners had finished telling their story to Mr. Wright, Mrs. Byram knew of the interview with Skip.
"Of course I will give you some food," she said, readily. "It may prove to be the best possible thing for him that he should be so thoroughly frightened. Can you carry oil enough in a bottle?"
"As much as will be needed until to-morrow. It won't do any harm if he scrapes along on short rations for a while," Sam replied, with a laugh. "The only thing is to get him something before Joe an' Bill go back."
A generous package of food, a small quantity of oil, the whole in a paper parcel, and the good samaritans started for the slope once more, noting with satisfaction as they passed that the miners had not yet left the store.
No particular attention was paid to them as they entered the slope, and screening the package as much as possible from view, the boys went with all speed to the repentant regulator's hiding place.
So far as could be seen, the cutting through which Fred had fallen remained as when they ascended, and after letting themselves down this the task was well nigh accomplished.
Skip was most extravagant in his demonstrations of gratitude when they entered the chamber and displayed the supplies.
"It'll take me a mighty long while to straighten this thing up; but I'll do it somehow," he said, and Sam replied, roughly:
"We'll talk about that later. Jest now there's a chance others will find out where you are, for Joe and Bill have gone after men to help search for Billings."
"Then they didn't find him?"
"No."
"I reckon he has gone to Taylor's."
"That won't do him much good unless he walks out of town, for now it is known he's near by, all hands are bound to hunt him down."
"Then they'll be sure to find me."
"We'll hold on in the old drift till they get back, an' try to prevent them from coming up here by saying we've searched this slope," Fred said, after a moment's thought. "That's the only way I know of to keep the secret."
"It won't do any harm to make the attempt," Sam added. "Don't light your lamp, and keep perfectly quiet."
Skip retreated once more to the farther corner of the chamber, and the boys walked slowly down to the drift, halting a short distance from the mouth of the slope as Sam picked up a shovel.
"Here's another tool belonging to the company. It must have been thrown away by Billings or Skip when you dropped on their heads."
"Keep it to show we've been hunting; it can't be long now before the men come, and we'll need some good excuse for loafing here."
"Let's sit down till we hear them. I'm tired enough to want a rest."
Seated on the decaying timbers of the car track the boys discussed in whispers the possibility of aiding Skip to escape from his unenviable position, with never a thought of the deed with which Billings was to crown his villainous career.
The leader of the mob had immediately begun to look about for a chance to wreak his vengeance on the company, when Joe and Bill with their helpers left the level, and he was yet at the farther end of the passage when the boys returned with supplies for Skip.
Their desire to avoid attracting the attention of the workmen caused them to move noiselessly, consequently he was ignorant of the fact that they were in the mine.
It was hardly five minutes after they descended to the old drift when he came back to the cutting, and the odor of gas brought him to a stop.
"Them fools broke through after all," he said, examining the earth piled up at one end, "an' I reckon they found out it wasn't safe to work much farther on that course."
One of the shovels was standing against the side of the excavation, and with this he dug a portion of the dirt from the hole made by Bill's pick.
The foul air rushed through with such force as to nearly suffocate him; but instead of being disappointed he appeared overjoyed.
"I couldn't a' fixed things better in a week's solid work, an' I'll take the chances of gettin' out."
Enlarging the aperture by pushing the earth through between the braces while he covered his mouth and nose with his blouse, he crept back to the drift, unfastened his cap-lamp, removed the safety screen, and placed the light in the passage after raising the wick a trifle.
Just as these preparations had been completed the faint sound of the whistle could be heard from above.
"It's astonishin' what luck I'm having," he muttered. "I can get out while the day shift are leavin', an' ten minutes will be enough to fill this level so full of gas that no power can prevent an explosion."
The air was heavy with the noxious vapor as he went rapidly toward the slope up which crowds of miners were passing, and as some of the men loitered behind the others it became necessary he should hide in the drift to escape detection.
"Why don't the fools move faster," he said, in a hoarse whisper. "It can't be many seconds before the thing comes, an' there'll be no chance for me. There'd be a lynchin' sure if I should show up jest ahead of an explosion."
Big drops of perspiration stood on his brow as he realized that the trap he had set for others might close upon himself, and for an instant he resolved to run back and extinguish the lamp.
"It won't do," he said, half turning and then moving nearer the slope. "There's gas enough in the driftto choke me before I'd get ten yards. Why don't the idiots move faster!"
Only the absolute conviction that he would be lynched if caught at such a time prevented Billings from rushing out.
Each second the vapor became denser, and he wondered why the miners did not perceive it.
The catastrophe must be very near at hand, and he was exposed to the greatest danger.
When it seemed as if an hour had passed, the last man went up the slope, and he started at full speed to gain a higher level.
The incline was almost reached; half a dozen steps more and he would be partially sheltered by the jutting point of slate.
"Luck is still with me," he cried, so loud that those above must have heard him, and at that instant the earth seemed to rock to and fro; there was a flash of blinding light, and the air was filled with flying fragments.
Where had been the lower level was now an apparently solid mass of earth, coal, and slate, covering the body of him who had wreaked his vengeance upon the company.
Joe and Bill were returning from the store when the noise of the explosion was heard, and they, as well as everyone in the vicinity, knew from sad experience what had occurred.
"We're responsible for this!" Bill cried, his face paling. "The gas has burst through from the old drift."
"Thank God it came when most of the poor fellowswere quittin' work," and Joe started on a run, followed by every person in the village.
At the mouth of the slope a vast crowd had gathered. Women were calling their husbands and children by name, and as each learned her loved ones were safe, shouts of joy mingled with the wailings of those whose cries remained unanswered.
Even after Mr. Wright arrived the utmost confusion prevailed. All knew it would be certain death to make a descent, while the deadly vapor was so dense, and a second explosion might be expected at any moment.
Bill and Joe stood near the mouth of the slope ready to respond to the first call for volunteers, when Mrs. Byram came up.
"Where is Fred?" she asked, with a brave attempt controlling her fears.
"He went to your house with Sam, so there's no need to worry about them."
"They were not there more than ten minutes."
"Then both are in the crowd somewhere, for they wouldn't go down the slope till we got back."
The almost distracted mother had no thought of keeping Skip's secret at such a time, and when the two miners heard her story all hope for the safety of the boys fled.
"They must have been in the old drift underneath the explodin' gas," Joe exclaimed, involuntarily.
"It isn't sure the trouble began where we think," Bill said, quickly, with a warning glance at his companion. "I've known of men who were shut in a drift for a week, an' then brought out none the worse for wear, so don't despair, Mrs. Byram."
"But why isn't something done to aid them?"
"We shall set to work the very minute it is safe to venture into the next level. Go home, an' Joe or I will bring you the first news."
"Do you think I could remain there knowing my boy is dying, or—or—dead?"
The women near by endeavored to console the sorrowing mother with words of encouragement they themselves believed to be false, and Bill whispered to his mate:
"There's a mighty slim show for the poor lads, an' it's through helpin' him as tried to murder 'em that they've been caught."
Mr. Wright was doing his utmost to ascertain how many were yet in the mine, and after a long while succeeded in learning that at least a dozen men had been overpowered while some distance up the slope.
Those who reached the surface told of a number whom they had seen fall, and some were certain one or two did not have time to gain the slope.
"Who will go with me?" the superintendent asked, as a car was made ready. "I don't want the married men to volunteer, for they are needed at home, and none of us may come back alive."
"Then why not stay here yourself?" a woman cried. "Your wife an' children need you as much as ours need their fathers."
"Because it is my duty," was the calm reply. "Now who will come? I only want two."
"Then the car is full," Bill said, as he and Joe took their places in the box-like vehicle. "We're willin' to go alone, if you'll stay behind."
"No man shall encounter dangers from which I shrink. Lower away slowly, boys," he added to those who were fastening a rope to the car, "and keep a sharp look-out for our signals."
"An' it was his house my Jim helped try to burn!" the woman who had spoken before said in a whisper.
"Make haste," Mr. Wright cried, impatiently. "Remember that every second is precious."
The miners crowded around the car to shake its brave occupants by the hand as if they were never to return, and it was absolutely necessary to push them away in order that the terrible journey might be begun.
With their safety lamps held so that the condition of the air might be ascertained at each stage of the descent, the men slowly disappeared from view, and at the mouth of the slope the crowd surged to and fro in painful suspense; but not a sound could be heard, save as some wife or mother gave vent to a sob of distress.
During the time that Billings was making his preparations for the last act of his life, Sam and Fred remained seated a short distance from the cut which led to Skip's hiding place.
Both were listening intently for the first sound which should betoken the coming of the miners, and the falling earth which was displaced by Billings' feet as he worked in the cutting attracted their attention.
"There's some one in the tunnel we made," Sam whispered. "Let's creep up and find out who it is."
"That won't do, for there's no chance Billings would come back if he once got out, and we should arouse suspicions."
Despite this warning Sam advanced a short distance, and on becoming convinced that the tunnel really had an occupant rejoined Fred, as he whispered:
"We'd better sneak further along. I reckon somebody is on guard up there, and we musn't be seen so far down."
He had held the shovel during this excursion, and still retained it as they walked noiselessly along the drift until arriving at the mouth of the short slope.
Here the two halted at the moment when the confined gas, ignited by the open lamp, burst its bonds, and the shock sent them headlong up the incline.
Huge masses of earth were detached on every hand, except directly in the narrow way leading to Skip's hiding place, and on scrambling to their feet a solid wall shut them out from the drift.
"What was that?" Fred cried in alarm, as he assured himself his lamp was uninjured.
"An explosion, an' we're penned in here to starve to death," Sam replied, in a trembling voice.
"Can't we dig through this bank and reach the hole in the roof?"
"There is no longer any lower level, as we knew it, and unless we could make a new drift there'd be no use working."
"But this part of the mine seems to be all right."
"Yes, unless there's another explosion I reckon we can stay here 'til—"
"'Till what?"
"We shall starve to death after a while."
This mournful conversation was interrupted by Skip, who came running down the slope with the most abject fear written on every feature of his face.
Familiar as he was with the mine he had no need to ask for the cause of the noise, and understood as well as Sam the little hope there was for life.
"Are you shut in, too?" he cried.
"We're here," Sam replied, grimly.
"An' you'd been outside if I hadn't wanted to stay rather than take a flogging."
"You're right, Skip, but this ain't the time to find fault. All three are in the same box, an' we might as well be friendly."
"Won't they try to get us out?" Fred asked, faintly.
"Nobody knows where we are," Skip replied, bitterly.
"We told mother about you, and she'll be sure to repeat it to Joe and Bill now we're in such danger."
Skip's face brightened for an instant, and then he said, in a despairing tone:
"They don't know where this place is. Billings is certain the oldest miners never heard of the drift; he thinks it was made years before the workings were opened at Farley's."
"Joe and Bill have been down here."
"Even they wouldn't know where to start in. How long will the air hold out, Sam?"
"I don't know, but there's no need of usin' it any faster than's necessary. We'll put out two of the lamps; one is enough, an' we may be mighty glad to drink the oil."
Fred was very nearly incapable of action. The knowledge that his companions had lost hope literally dazed him, and he could not even follow Sam's suggestion.
Two of the lamps were extinguished, and since Fred was the only one retaining the means of dispelling the darkness, Sam and Skip forced him on ahead as they went still further into the tunnel where the air would be more pure.
"This is the only point from which we may expect aid," Sam said, "an' seein' that we can do nothin' it's better to stay here."
"Won't Joe and Bill try to help us?" Fred asked.
"They'll try, but whether it'll be possible to do anything is another matter."
"Can't we begin to dig? We've got one shovel."
"Neither of us knows in which direction to start, an' when workin' more food would be needed, therefore, to keep alive as long as possible we'd better stay quiet."
Skip threw himself on the floor close to the end of the cutting, as if reconciled to whatever might happen, and Sam sat down beside him.
"Do you think there is any chance that we can get out of here?" Fred asked after a long silence, and Sam replied, gravely:
"We may as well look the matter straight in the face. It's possible they can strike us without much trouble, but that ain't likely."
During half an hour the boys remained silent and motionless, as if each was trying to reconcile himself to the terrible doom which threatened, and then Fred said, with a feeble attempt at cheerfulness:
"It must be near supper time. Suppose we have one square meal?"
"Because a man knows he's slowly drowning there's no reason why he should try to keep his head under water more than is necessary," Sam replied, sternly.
"What do you mean?"
"We are not suffering with hunger now, but soon will be, so it's wise to wait till grub is absolutely needed to keep us alive."
"Then let's do something; this sitting still thinking of what is to come seems worse than the reality can ever be."
"Very well, we've got a shovel; we'll decide in which direction it's best to dig, an' begin operations."
"There surely is a chance of striking another drift."
"Yes, there's a chance," Sam replied, as if the conversation wearied him. "Each one shall say which course he thinks most likely to bring us out."
Skip wished to continue up the slope, arguing that each inch gained would carry them so much nearer the surface, while Fred believed it best to work through the mass of earth that had fallen, because there a pick would not be necessary.
"We'd better try Skip's plan," Sam finally said. "By making our way along the old drift a chamber of gas might be struck, when all hands would be suffocated. Come on, and I'll start it."
He wielded the shovel until tired, the others carrying the earth back to the foot of the slope in their hats, and then Fred tried his hand at the labor.
In this manner each did a certain amount of the work, but at the expense of no slight suffering. In the confined space it was very warm, and this exercise brought with it an intense thirst, which, of course, could not be quenched.
Skip drank a little oil now and then, but Fred could not force himself to taste the ill-smelling stuff.
There was no way by which the passage of time could be measured. When all were sleepy they laid down to rest, and on awakening a small quantity of food was dealt out. After the scanty meal had been eaten they continued what every one now believed was useless labor, ceasing only when the desire for slumber became overpowering again.
Reckoning these periods of work and rest as days and nights, seventy-two hours had elapsed when the supply of food was exhausted, and they realized that the final struggle was at hand.
The air remained reasonably pure, probably because a vent had been left somewhere in the choked drift, but there were moments when the odor of gas was perceptible, thus causing Sam to believe efforts were still being made to reach them by those on the outside.
But little work was done when the food had been consumed. Now and then one or the other would use the shovel in a listless way for a few moments at a time, but each had become so weak that any prolonged exertion was out of the question.
They slept as much as possible, and refrained from discussing the terrible situation. Fred no longer listened for the sounds which would tell that help was near at hand, and the odor of the oil did not prevent him now from taking his share when the scanty allowance was doled out.
Finally the hour came when the last drop had been drank. The tiny flame of the lamp seemed to have been the only link which connected them with the outer world, and then without any means of dispelling the profound darkness the bitterness of death came upon them.
Fred was the first to sink into a stupor from which he awakened only at rare intervals. Then Skip yielded to despair, and Sam was virtually alone.
All three were half sitting, half lying in the excavation they had made, and the moments passed unheeded. To Fred it seemed as if he had been unconscious for many days when he became aware that Sam was shouting wildly.
In a dazed way he raised his head, and after a while understood that his companion was saying in an incoherent tone:
"They're coming! They're coming!"
"Who? Who?" Skip asked, feebly, trying in vain to rise to his feet.
"The miners! Can't you hear the sound of their picks?"
When they could bring themselves to understand the meaning of Sam's words both the sufferers were revived by the excitement sufficiently to stagger to an upright position, but as only at intervals was the cheeringsound heard, fatigue soon overpowered them again, and once more Sam alone remained conscious.
He made every effort to preserve all his faculties, and after another long, painful time of suspense he was rewarded by hearing a faint hail.
"Hello! lads, are you near?"
"Yes! yes! In the end of a short slope."
"How many are there?"
"Three."
"All well?"
"Two are pretty near gone. Hurry as fast as possible."
"Don't fret, lad, we're workin' the best we know how, an' have been these four days, though not allers on the right track."
Then from time to time the laborers shouted in order that they might not deviate from the right course, and Sam answered each call at the full strength of his lungs, which at the best was faint.
Nearer and nearer came the sound of shovels and picks until the trembling of the wall told that life, liberty, and food were near at hand.
Sam remained leaning close against the barrier that he might hear every hail, until he saw the face of a man appear from amid a shower of falling earth, and then, knowing the rescue was accomplished he lost consciousness.
Around the mouth of the shaft stood a great crowd when the inanimate boys were brought out. During the nights as well as days this throng remained waiting to see those known to be in the half-ruined mine. These anxious watchers, sympathizing with the threegrief-stricken mothers, had left their posts only so long as was absolutely necessary, and had seen each lifeless body as it was sent to the surface, the last coming from the slope being the mangled remains of Cale Billings.
Each morning the newspapers had printed long articles regarding the disaster at Farley's, and in the list of those known to be dead were four names, the number of victims sacrificed that Billings might avenge a fancied wrong.
With the rescue of the boys the work was finished, and in the rear of the bearers all the watchers and laborers followed to the village, remaining in the streets until word was sent that no injuries had been sustained.
Then, perhaps for the first time, came the question of what was to be done now that Farley's was in such a condition as to preclude any possibility that the works could be opened for several months.
"It's a hard look-out for all of us," one old miner said to a mate, "but thank God that villain of a Billings has no more than four lives to answer for."