The hand of death was very nearly upon them, and the agonies of dissolution already passed.
Within a few feet of where the unconscious men lay, willing hands were working at the obstruction. No more than three could labor at once, but these were relieved every two minutes, in order that their energy might not be impaired by weariness, and meanwhile others shoveled the slate and earth into cars, that the drift might be kept clear.
Mr. Wright personally assisted in the labor, and it was he who began the cheering which ensued when an aperture was made in the barrier.
"At it with a will, boys," he shouted, "but be careful about removing the timber, for some of the poor fellows may be beneath it."
The foul air rushing out nearly overcame the laborers, but the eager rescuers heeded not their own peril, and the moment finally came when the unconscious ones were fully exposed to view.
"Pass out the men, and then dig beneath the boy; he must be released in that manner, otherwise we may all share their fate," and Mr. Wright shoveled the earth carefully away from Fred, while the others carried Joe and Bill into the drift.
From his place of concealment on the hillside Skip Miller saw a party of men come out of the slope bearing an ominous looking burden.
"One of them is dead," he whispered to himself, as his face paled.
Then came another party, and a few seconds later the third, each carrying a similar load, marched down the road leading to the village.
The sight nearly overpowered Skip; he shook as if in an ague fit, and after staring at the sad spectacle until the men had passed from view, he turned and ran through the grove, believing the officers were close upon him.