The mine took a sharp turn. "They lost the vein here and had to chew out some rock to find it again," Rick pointed out. "Notice everything is on one level? Must have been just one vein. It ran out and the mine closed down."
"Looks that way," Scotty agreed. "How far have we come?"
Rick hadn't kept track, but he estimated they were perhaps halfway under the hill. "This must end somewhere," he said. "Notice there isn't any water at all, not even seepage? I'm still baffled by that spring and the pipe."
They traversed another hundred yards in silence, flashlights constantly scanning the mine. There was nothing out of the ordinary, no sign of ghost, projector, or even of human visitation for dozens of years.
"We're on another wild-goose..." Rick began. He never finished, for sound suddenly reverberated through the mine, the sound of rock crashing downward.
Both boys turned and ran back toward the entrance, afraid of what they would find. Long before they reached it, billowing clouds of dust told them what had happened.
Their racing legs confirmed it as they came to a stop against rock that choked the tunnel from top to bottom.
