The girl’s head appeared over the opening.
“Haul up the rope,” instructed the scout, “and then tie the pick to it and let it down.”
The girl obeyed the order. While she was doing it, the scout told Nomad to take the candle and go through the drift hunting for any tools he could find.
By the time Buffalo Bill had returned to the break in the wall with the pick, Nomad was waiting for him with two more half-burned candles, and with a shovel.
“Ther shovel is all I could find, Buffler,” said the trapper.
“That’s enough, Nick. We have a pick and shovel, and there are only two of us to work. Light all the candles, and wedge them into the wall in places where they will give us the most light. We’ve got to hurry. There’s no telling how much air Wild Bill has in there, nor how long he can hold out. What’s more, Lawless and his gang may return at any moment and interrupt our work.”
While he was talking, the scout began driving the pick into the mass of débris, throwing the broken stones to right and left.
After lighting and placing the candles where they would best serve the scout’s purpose, Nomad fell to with the shovel.
The efforts of the two pards were concentrated upon a limited space, well toward the top of the barrier. It was only necessary to make a hole large enough for Wild Bill to crawl through, and that is what they strove to do. As they continued digging, however, the loosened stones fell from above, so that it was necessary to force an opening from about the middle of the barrier upward to the roof of the level.
The scout and the trapper worked like galley-slaves. By degrees the voice on the other side of the wall became clearer as the barrier diminished; then, suddenly, the voice ceased altogether.