Without doubt the miners had ceased work.
Then Frank recollected the hour, and that without doubt they had retired for the purpose of gaining sleep.
With an inspiration the young inventor sprang up.
“Barney!” he cried. “Our time has come!”
The Celt was astonished.
“Shure, phwat do yez mean, Misther Frank?”
“I mean that we must dig our way through and meet that passage. It will be deserted, and though it will lead us into the camp of the greasers, we will stand a chance to escape.”
Barney caught the inspiration.
“Bejabers, ye’re right!” he cried. “But how will we do it? Shure, we ’aven’t any pick nor shovel.”
“Somewhere in this mine there must be some old ones!” cried Frank. “Let us search.”