"Bob, we've got to find some way to save the magazine. Think what it will mean if we do not! Why, it will wreck the whole mine and the chances are that not a man of all the crew will get out alive."
"Yes, but how are we going to do it?"
Steve stood thoughtful for a moment, while second by second the flames were eating farther and farther into the drift, drawing nearer and nearer to the deadly stuff that was piled in cases behind the wooden partition that stood in the drift beyond the flames just around the bend.
"I'm going through," announced Steve firmly.
"You are not going to try to get through that burning drift, are you?"
"That's exactly what I am going to do. It's our only hope, old man. We're surely doomed if I don't. If I fail then I shall have done my best. Take off your shirt."
"Because I want to use it."
"Why don't you take off your own?"
"That is exactly what I am going to do," answered the lad, proceeding to strip off the garment. "Be quick! We've no time to lose."