ine he knew that he
should find pure air and--life.

The opening was too small to admit his body, but that was nothing;
there were tools here, and he still had strength enough to work. He
dragged the drill up to the face but it was too heavy for him to
handle, and the stroke he was able to make with it was wholly without
effect. His work with the clumsy sledge was still less useful, and
before he had struck the third blow the instrument fell from his
nerveless hands.

He was exhausted by the effort and lay down on the bed of coal to
rest, gasping for breath.

He thought if only the air current would come from the other mine
into this what a blessing it would be; but, alas! the draft was the
other way. The poisoned air was being drawn swiftly into the old
mine, making a whistling noise as it crossed the sharp edges of
the aperture.

Ralph knew that very soon the strong current would bring in smoke and
fouler air, and he rose to make still another effort. He went down
and brought up the pick. It was worn and light and he could handle it
more easily. He began picking away at the edges of coal to enlarge the
opening. But the labor soon exhausted him, and he sat down with his
back against the aperture to intercept the passage of air while he
recovered his breath.

He was soon at work again. The hope of escape put energy into his weak
muscles.

Once, a block as large as his two hands broke away and fell down on
the other side. That was a great help. But he had to stop and rest
again. Indeed, after that he had very frequently to stop and rest.

The space was widening steadily, but very, very slowly.

After a time he threw down the pick and passed his head through the
opening, but it was not yet large enough to receive his body.

The air that was now coming up the chamber was very bad, and it was
blue with smoke, besides.

The boy bent to his task with renewed energy; but every blow exhausted
him, and he had to wait before striking another. He was chipping the
coal away, though, piece by piece, inch by inch.

By and by, by a stroke of rare good-fortune, a blow that drew the pick
from the lad's weak hands and sent it rattling down upon the other
side, loosened a large block at the top of the opening, and it fell
with a crash.

Now he could get through, and it would be none too soon either. He
dropped his oil-can down on the other side, then his lamp, and then,
after a single moment's rest, he crawled into the ap