Purdick’s grin looked pale, but that was only because the candle light was poor.
“I’m still betting on that warm wind that we felt when we first came in,” he said. “That came from outdoors somewhere; it must have.”
“All right; let’s go find it,” said Larry, bolting his last mouthful; and the march into the black depths was resumed.
Not for very long, however. A few hundred feet beyond their halting place they came to an obstacle “right,” as Dick named it. In a narrow passage which led to a much larger space beyond, a huge boulder had fallen in from above, leaving only a rat-hole, so to speak, between its bulk and one side of the tunnel; a space through which they could look, with the help of the candles, but through which not even little Purdick could squeeze himself.
That brought on more talk; pretty serious talk. Dick was for turning back and making another desperate assault on the plug that Lop-Ear’s struggles had brought down, and his urgings would have prevailed had not Purdick, who was staring through the narrow slit ahead, this time without the aid of the candles, suddenly broke in.
“Say, fellows! I believe I can see something like a glimmer of daylight ahead! Come here and look!”
They all looked, putting the lighted candles well in the background. What they saw was hardly daylight; it was nothing more than a grayish sort of dusk. But they knew perfectly well that it must come from daylight somewhere.
“That answers the question for us,” said Larry definitely. “We have the hammer and drills and dynamite. We can drill and blast this rock in less time than it will take us to go all the way back and dig out through that roof slide. What do you say?”
They didn’t say, particularly. They got out the tools and fell to work. It turned out to be a most grueling job, drilling a shot hole in the big stone. There was hardly room in which to swing the hammer properly, and the one who was “striking” could keep it up for only a few minutes at a time. But the sight of the shadowy illumination beyond the obstacle kept them going, and they wouldn’t give up, didn’t give up or stop, only once for the evening meal, until they had the hole drilled well into the center of the boulder.
Next came the loading and firing, and that, too, brought on more talk. They knew that the gases liberated by the exploding dynamite would, unless there were a ventilating outlet somewhere beyond, fill the cavern and stifle them. By this time it was well on into the night, and it was Larry’s suggestion that they load the hole in readiness for firing, and leave it until morning.