ed them bravely till there was a warning
shout, and the rescue party had only just time to save themselves from a
falling wall which toppled over with a tremendous crash, and sent up a
cloud of dust.

The men rushed in again, though, and in an incredibly short space of
time they had dug and torn away a heap of broken rubbish, beneath which
moans could be heard.

I stood close beside my uncles, as, blackened and covered with dust and
sweat, they toiled away, Uncle Jack being the first to chase away the
horrible feeling of fear that was upon me lest they should be too late.

"Here he is," he cried; and in a few minutes more, standing right down
in a hole, he lifted the poor maimed creature who had been crying for
our help.

There was a tremendous cheer raised here, and the poor fellow was
carried out, while Uncle Dick, who, somehow, seemed to be taking the
lead, held up his hand.

"Hark!" he said.

But there was no sound.

"If there is no living creature here," he said, "we must get out. It is
not safe to work till the roof has been blown down or fallen. If there
is anyone alive, my lads, we must have him out at all risks."

There was a cheer at this, and then, as soon as he could get silence,
Uncle Jack shouted:

"Is anyone here?"

There was a low wailing cry for help far back beyond the ripped-up
boiler, and in what, with tottering wall and hanging roof, was a place
too dangerous to approach.

"Come, lads, we must have him out," cried Uncle Dick; but a gentleman,
who was evidently one of the managers, exclaimed:

"No, it is too dangerous."

"Volunteers!" cried Uncle Dick.

Uncle Jack, Uncle Bob, Pannell, Stevens, and four more men went to his
side, and in the midst of a deathly silence we saw them go softly in and
disappear in the gloom of the great wrecked boiler-house.

Then there was utter silence, out of which Uncle Dick's voice came loud
and clear, but ominously followed by the rattling down of some fragments
of brick.

"Where are you? Try and speak."

A low piteous moan was the reply.

"All right, my lads, down here!" we heard Uncle Jack cry. "No picks--
hands, hands."

"And work gently," cried Uncle Dick.

Then, in the midst of the gloom we could hear the rattling of bricks and
stones, and though we could see nothing we could realise that these
brave men were digging down with their hands to try and get out the
buried stoker.

The flames burned up brightly, casting curious shadow