u see, Evan Morgan?" whispered Trevna at last.

"It wass a man."

"Then I have killed him, for he does not move. Can you light the lamp?"

"I can not--in here. I am coing out. I haf hat enough of this."

"We must take him out, too."

"You can tek him, then, John Trevna. I haf hat enough of him and this
hole."

"Don't be a fool, Evan Morgan. If it wass a man, and he got that load in
him as close as that, he iss deader than Tom Hamon."

"Well, you can go an' see. I am coing out," and he began to wriggle
backwards, and Trevna was fain to go too.

But presently they came to one of the somewhat wider places where the
wall had fallen away, and Trevna squeezed himself tightly into this.

"You go on, then, Evan Morgan," he said, "if you can get past, and I
will go back and bring him out."

"You are a fool, John Trevna, to meddle with him any more. Iff the man
iss dead, he iss just as well left there."

"If he iss dead he cannot harm me, and I would like to see the man I
have killed."

"Ugh!" grunted Morgan, and crawled on, legs first.

Trevna wormed along up the tunnel, groping cautiously in front of him at
each forward lurch, and at last his hands fell on what he sought, and at
the same moment he began sneezing again.

It would be no easy job dragging a dead man all down that tunnel, he
thought. But when, after cautious feeling here and there, he got a grip
of the man's coat collar, to his surprise it came away in his hand, but
at the same time it seemed to him that the body was extraordinarily
light.

He tried again with a fresh grip on the coat, but it tore like paper,
and, after thinking it over, he unstrapped his leather belt and got it
round the man below the armpits, and so was able to haul him slowly
along.

When Evan Morgan's wriggling legs came slowly out of the tunnel, John
Drillot and Peter Vaudin were almost dancing with excitement, and their
first surprise was the sight of him when, by rights, John Trevna should
have been the one to come out first.

"Well then? What have you done? And where is John Trevna?" cried John
Drillot.

"Ach! He iss a fool. He hass shot the man and now he will pring him out
when he woult pe much petter buried where he iss."

"He's quite right. What was all the noise about?"

"That wass the shooting."

"Before that. You all seemed to be howling at once."

"That wass the sneezing. It iss full of sneezing down there," and his
red eyes still showed the effect of it