“None, sir. They’ve not been working it to-day. Daniels and two other men have been inspecting a bulge that has appeared in the roof, and were arranging to have it fixed up with supports.” Mechanically Alan walked down the low road that led to the third shaft. He pushed aside the heavy tarpaulins that hung across the roadways, and kept the current of air from flowing in the wrong direction, and as he passed through each one, he sniffed the air eagerly.
At last! The sickly, choking smell came up from the distance. It was one he knew and feared—a noxious gas. The roof became very low, and Alan had almost to crawl on his hands and knees, for there was no room for him to stand upright. Cramped, aching, he made his way along the narrow roadway. Suddenly he gave a sigh of relief; the roof rose to perhaps ten feet, and the road widened out into a vault-like chamber, perhaps twenty feet square. He heard a cry in the distance. “Help! Help!” It was Daniels—Daniels who came stumbling in and fell on the ground before him.
“Mr. Forsyth,” he muttered, “run—save yourself—Rutter is dead—The gas is terrible. There’s danger,” and even as he spoke there came a dull roar and a flash, a terrible sound of falling—and Alan realized that the little chamber had indeed become a vault, for the force of the explosion had made the walls on either side cave in, and the entrance at each end was blocked up completely.
“Too late,” murmured Daniels weakly. “I couldn’t get here before.” He fumbled at his belt, and Alan bent over him gently. “Water—water,” he cried, and Alan unfastened the basket that was slung across his shoulders, and took from it a bottle of cold tea.
But even as he put it to the lips of the sick man, there came another roar in the distance, and Daniels fell back—dead.
Once more the dreaded sound was heard—once more an explosion had occurred in the mine. This time there was little fire—only water—water everywhere.
“Where is Mr. Alan?” asked the manager hoarsely. “Has he returned from the third shaft?”
“No, sir.”
“Then he is in the midst of the danger. Rescue parties at once.” But all these efforts were in vain. It was water this time—water that drove the men back to the mouth of the pit.
Pumps were put in order, and for hours the men worked to clear the mine, but when at last they were able to get near the spot where the accident took place—they, as they feared, found no trace of Alan.