ficers of
the law might soon be in search of him was by no means reassuring.

He sought the shelter of the thicket farther up the hill where a view of
the slope could be had, and there he waited, expecting each moment to
see lifeless bodies brought from the mine.

CHAPTER XIII

BURIED ALIVE

At the moment when Skip Miller knocked away the joist which supported
the timbers at the top of the tunnel, Fred had stooped to pick up his
shovel, and this position saved him from being instantly killed.

One end of the shoring plank was yet held by the upright placed in the
center of the cutting, and it remained at an angle, although pinning him
down, while the earth covered him completely.

For a moment he was at a loss to know what had happened, and then he
heard, as if from afar off, Joe calling him by name.

"Here I am under the timber," he replied.

"Are you hurt much?"

"I think not; but I shall stifle to death if the dirt isn't taken away
soon."

"It ain't a sure thing that you won't stifle even then," he heard Bill
say sharply. "Take hold, mate, an' let's get him from beneath while we
have a chance to breathe."

Then the grating of the shovels was distinguished, and pound by pound
the weight was removed until nothing save the timber held him down.

"Can you get out now?" Joe asked, and his voice sounded strangely
indistinct.

"Not till the joist is pulled away."

"When that is done it's safe to say tons of the roof will follow," Bill
muttered, and Joe asked:

"Does it hurt you much, lad?"

"The edges are cutting into my back terribly."

"Grin an' bear it as long as you can. Our only chance for life is to
break through the wall into the old tunnel; but if that timber is taken
away it's good-bye for all hands."

"Then don't bother about me. It's better one died than three."

There was no reply to this. The men were digging at the barrier of earth
with feverish energy, and each instant respiration became more
difficult. The slight amount of air which filtered through the bank of
slate and sand was no more than sufficient for one pair of lungs.

The darkness was profound. The lamps had been extinguished by the shock,
and five minutes later it was impossible to re-light them. The oxygen
had become so nearly exhausted that a match would not burn.

Fred bit his lips to prevent an outcry. The huge timber was crushing him
slowly but surely, and the pain was intense.

Each instant the blows of th