"We'll find them," declared Mr. Titus.
But though they looked all along the big shaft, and though the place was well lighted by extra lamps that were turned on when the investigation started, no trace could be found of the workmen, who had been left in the tunnel to finish tamping the blast charges. The party reached the rocky heading, in the face of which the powerful explosive had been placed, and not an Indian was in sight. Nor, as far as could be told, was there any side niche, or blind shaft, in which they could be hiding.
Sometimes, when small blasts were set off, the men would go behind a projecting shoulder of rock to wait until the charge had been fired, but now none was in such a refuge.
"It is queer," admitted Walter Titus. "Where can the men have gone?"
"That's what I want to know!" exclaimed Tim.
"Are you sure they didn't come out the mouth of the tunnel?" asked Job Titus.
"Positive," asserted Tom. I was there all the while, rigging up the fires."
"We'll call the roll, and check up," decided Job Titus. "Get Serato to help."
The Indian foreman had not been in the tunnel with the last shift of men, having left them to Tim Sullivan to get out in time. The Indian foreman was called from his supper in the shack where he had his headquarters, and the roll of workmen was called.
Ten men were missing, and when this fact became known there were uneasy looks among the others.