"He means stretchers," translated Job. "That's our Peruvian foreman. A good fellow, but easily scared."
They ran on into the tunnel, Tom and Mr. Damon noticing that a small narrow-gage railroad was laid on the floor, mules being the motive power to bring out the small dump cars loaded with rock and dirt, excavated from the big hole.
"Mind the turn!" called Job Titus, who was ahead of Tom and Mr. Damon. "It's rough here."
Tom found it so, for he slipped over some pieces of rock, and would have fallen had not Koku held him up.
"Thanks," gasped Tom, as on he ran.
A little later he came to a place where a cluster of electric lights gave better illumination, and he could see it was there that the damage had been done.
A number of men were lying on the dirt and rock floor of the tunnel, and some of them were bleeding. Others were staggering about as though shocked or stunned.
"We must get the injured ones out of here!" cried Walter Titus. "Where are the men with stretchers?"
"I sint that Spalapeen Serato for thim!" broke in a voice, rich in Irish brogue. "But he's thot stupid he might think I was after sindin' him fer wather!"
"No, Tim. Serato is after the stretchers all right," said Walter. "We passed him on the way."