Some one said, “Hear that?” and there was silence, and no one heard anything. Again the talk began and droned unevenly along.
“Say, listen,” some one else called beside the first man who had heard the sound.
Again they listened, and because they were nervous perhaps two or three men fancied they heard something. But one said it was the roar of the fire, another said it was the sound of some one calling, and the third said it was the crash of a rock in some distant passageway. The talk did not rise again for a time, but finally it rose wearily, punctuated with sighs. Then two men cried:
“Hear it! There it is again!”
And breathless they all sat, for a second. Then they heard a voice calling, “Hello–hello?” And they tried to cheer.
But the voice did not sound again, and a long time passed. Grant tried to count the minutes as they ticked off in his watch, but his mind would not remain fixed upon the ticking, so he lost track of the time after three minutes had passed. And still the time dragged, the watch kept ticking.
Then they heard the sound again, clearer; and again it called. Then Dick Bowman took up a pick, called:
“Watch out, away from the wall, I’m going to make a hole.”
He struck the wall and struck it again and again, until he made a hole and they cried through it:
“Hello–hello–We’re here.” And they all tried to 177get to the hole and jabber through it. Then they could hear hurrying feet and voices calling, and confusion. The men called, and cried and sobbed and cheered through the hole, and then they saw the gleam of a lantern. Then the wall crumbled and they climbed into the passage. But they knew, who had heard the falling timbers and the crashing rocks, for days, that they were not free.