“Look here,” whispered the big Cornishman; “you two get your pieces to your shoulders and be ready. I’m going to chance it and light a match. Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then come on!”
Chapter Thirty Five.
The help that came late.
There was a momentary pause, and then—
Scratch went the match, and the tiny flame feebly lit up the place, to show them the great dog sitting at the edge of the shaft, looking down.
Then the light went out.