“Well,” continued the cheery manager, “you may be sure it took some time to clear away the débris after the cave-in. When it was clear we saw a passage leading out of it, and followed it about a mile, when it became choked up; and as we had made no preparations we returned and decided to continue our investigations another day.”
“Well?” from both boys.
“It was a Thursday. John Cornlake, Bill Watson and one or two other good, all round pick hands came with Mennell and me. It was a long road—two and three quarter miles by our pedometer—pitch dark, as you know. Suddenly we saw a speck of blue in the distance. We moved the boulder aside—how cleverly it is hidden among the rocks and undergrowth! and we realized at once it was the exit of ‘Red Mark’s Tunnel’.”
Neither of the boys spoke—they saw the humour of the situation, but were afraid lest by a word they might give themselves away.
“It must be a hundred and twenty years since it was used. How did you come to discover it?”
“A fellow told us about it,” said Alan vaguely after the fraction of a pause, and Mr. Travers was content.
“Of course when the shaft of our mine was sunk, the workmen searched for the entrance to the tunnel, but it was never discovered, and I don’t suppose it ever would have been except by a lucky accident. I suppose you were unable to find your way back to Karragua—was that it? You were in a pretty bad condition when you were found. We have already informed the government of the discovery,” he went on, “and agents have been sent down to inspect it. We are not sure what the result will be. Every one in Walla Balla wants to have it opened up as a sort of showplace. It would certainly do the township an immense amount of good. Red Mark and his fellow convicts who escaped through it have certainly left a wonderful monument behind them.”
So! It flashed on Alan’s mind at once. In some miraculous way the entrance to the passage by which they had come from Korah’s tomb was again blocked up. Their secret was still their own, but a subterranean passage made by early eighteenth century convicts had been unearthed instead.
“Did Red Mark dig the passage himself?” asked Alan.
“The story goes that Red Mark and a fellow convict escaped and commenced a passage. Walla Balla was a large farm estate at that time, and was employing nearly sixty convicts. Escape was almost impossible, the place was so well guarded, and such brutal treatment was inflicted on those that attempted to escape that few tried. Red Mark and his companion were lucky, however, and they managed to elude the bloodhounds. Their friends helped them with food. Feverishly they worked at the tunnel. It was their plan to burrow to the sea. It took them several years to complete it, but they accomplished their stupendous task at last. The night it was finished fifty convicts vanished. They had ransacked the larders and had taken plenty of food with them. Those that were left talked vaguely about having heard of a subterranean passage, but it was never found—at least not until now. Those convicts were never seen again. But at Karragua Creek a small sailing craft disappeared, and on it doubtless went Red Mark and his friends. But of course you’ve heard the story before. How did you find the place—by accident? And then I suppose you wagered you’d find your way through to the other end.”