"One thing is certain," said Mark. "If we don't want to be smothered we'll have to dig our way out."
"True, but we don't want to risk a cave-in," said Maybe Dixon. "We'll have to go at it easy-like."
The candles had gone out, but the lantern was still lit, and holding this up they made an examination of the cavern. The front was blocked up so completely that the shovel did not pass through it.
"I think we had better cut upward," said Maybe Dixon. "But be mighty careful."
They set to work, slowly and cautiously. The dirt was hard and mixed with stones, and sometimes a shower came down on their heads. What fell was banked up for a place to stand upon while going higher.
An hour passed and the air in the cavern began to grow foul. Mark was the first to notice this.
"We ought to have ventilation," he remarked.
"This makes me sleepy," said Bob.
"Don't go to sleep, or you'll never wake up!" cried the old miner. "Keep at the work and we'll be sure to git out sooner or later."
Another hour passed and the air became so bad they could hardly breathe. They were all thirsty, but no water was at hand. They looked at each other in despair.