“Humph! That’s it, fast enough,” said the Shark. “Bad air—like the air in a well or a cave that’s been closed up. Match won’t burn in it. Guess we’d better get out.”
Varley was beginning to have difficulty in breathing.
“Great Scott, but I—I never was in such a place!” he panted. “So close—so stuffy—so sour—so—so——”
“Sure! Bet you there hasn’t been a window or door of this cellar opened in my time or yours. And not nearly enough air’d seep in to keep it sweet. And as for getting out—well, I guess we’d best go the way we came.”
With that he put his hands above his head, and groped for the edge of the broken flooring. Luckily, the ancient cellar was not deep. The Shark failed to get a grip, but Varley, who was taller, succeeded where he failed.
“Give me a leg up,” Paul directed, and the Shark obeyed. The effort was painful. Plucky fellow though he was, he couldn’t quite repress a groan. Varley uttered another, and another, as he raised himself; bettered his hold on the ragged ends of the boards; found them fragile as well as ragged; tore away fragments of the rotten wood; gained the stouter support of a beam, which appeared still to be sound; called upon the Shark for renewed and redoubled effort; exerted all his waning strength, and, at last, slowly and with difficulty, drew his body to the comparative safety of the floor.
Apparently most of the remaining boards were still sound enough to support his weight, though they creaked dismally, while he bent down and extended a helping hand to the Shark.
It was a fortunate thing for the young adventurers that the Shark was light. Varley, as it was, found his work cut out for him, especially as both he and his companion still felt the effects of the foul air of the cellar. By dint of their utmost joint endeavors the Shark finally half climbed, half was dragged, through the opening. Then he tried to struggle to his knees, but pitched forward and lay helpless and exhausted. Varley, in almost as grievous plight, laid hold upon his collar and began to drag him toward the window.
Experiences were crowding thick and fast upon the city youth, but he was rising to the emergency and proving the mettle that was in him. It was a hard task, desperately hard, to cover the few feet which lay between the gap in the floor and the wall. Varley gritted his teeth, and pulled and tugged at the Shark, and gained inch by inch. But when the window had been reached, he slumped upon the floor beside his comrade, and lay there, panting heavily.
Luckily the sash was still raised, and through the opening the fresh, damp air was pouring into the room. The Shark was the first to show its revivifying effects. He moved, lifted himself on an elbow. Varley, after a little, raised his head. The eyes of the two met.