Otis James
Down the Slope
CHAPTER XIII
BURIED ALIVE
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 a groan, 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."
CHAPTER XIV
PRECAUTIONS
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 which came 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 abandoned passages 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 for the 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.
