“Blackberry isn’t a dog,” Judy explained. “He’s a cat.”
“No good ... calling him then.”
Judy feared Dick was right. Already she could see the water backing up, filling the low places in the uneven cement floor. Soon it would spread to the corner where Dick’s cot was. It would creep under the cot and finally over it. Judy shuddered as she thought of what would happen after that.
“There has to be a way out,” she told Horace as they started toward the furnace, wading in water over their ankles. “We’ll be back,” she called reassuringly to Dick Hartwell.
He seemed not to care whether they came back or not. “Forget ... about me,” he replied. “Save yourselves ... if you can.”
Judy and Horace looked at each other in the dimming light from her flash.
“We couldn’t do that, could we, sis?”
“No,” she replied. “It’s Dad’s business to save lives, and so I guess it’s our business to get Dick to him. We’ll be back.”
The water swirling about them became warmer as they neared the furnace. They heard it sizzle against the hot iron. Before long there would be neither light nor heat in the tunnel. The water would rise to the level of the open grate and put out the fire. The batteries in their flashlights would wear out. Horace had left his with Dick Hartwell. Now Judy used hers to look for the shovel.
“I see it!” she exclaimed at last. “It’s there in the coal bin. I’m going to climb up on the coal and look around. There must be a coal chute.”