“Far as he likes, my lad. Till he comes to paying ore. You see that the rings o’ rope run clear, and keep it right for me to run out. He’s tidy heavy for such a little ’un, though.”
Joe seized the coil, and made the rope run free, keeping spasmodically a tight hold of it the while, in case the man should let it slip.
And so some sixty feet were allowed to run out, with Gwyn keeping on cheerily shouting, “All right!” from time to time.
It was instantaneous.
Suddenly the mining captain started back and blundered against Joe, completely knocking him over. A wild shriek arose from the old shaft, sounding hollow, awful and strange, and the rope, which had either parted or come undone from the boy’s chest, was swinging slackly to and fro in the great black pit.
Chapter Three.
At Agony Point.
Plosh!