“And John Peep, the Cheyenne,” returned Chet. “He did more than we.”
But when he turned to look at the Indian youth, he was not there. With his lantern he had stolen away the moment he saw through the broken wall that the entombed miners had lamps.
“We have been trying to hit that old tunnel you are in, boys, for hours,” pursued Mr. Havens, as the men broke down the barrier between the two mines, and swiftly cleared the earth and rock away. “We knew we could escape through the Crayton shaft if once we could hit the old drift.”
“But you couldn’t, Father!” exclaimed Chet eagerly.
“Why not, Son?” demanded the gentleman, who still remained back in the darkness while his men worked.
“Because the shaft is caved in.”
“What’s that?” queried Mr. Havens quickly, and with some anxiety in his tone. “It was all right a week ago, for I saw it.”
“Somebody has pried out some of the timbering and caused a cave-in. It’s as bad as the one in our shaft, Father.”
“Well! I declare!”
“Say! I bet that lame Indian knows who did it,” growled Dig, resting on his pick. “But he won’t tell.”