ght lamps to consume its oxygen. Extinguishing
all the others, they sat around one lamp, pricked down low, for they
could not bear the thought of absolute darkness.

Monk Tooley had assumed a sort of leadership among them, and by virtue
of it he ordered every lunch-pail to be emptied of what scraps of food
it contained, and all of it to be given to Paul for safe keeping. There
was not much--barely enough of broken crusts and bits of meat to fill
Paul's pail; but it was something, and must be doled out sparingly, for
already the men gazed at it with hungry eyes.

Then they tried to talk of their situation and discuss the chances of
escape. On this subject they had but little to say, however, for they
all knew that long before the waters could be lowered so that any
attempt to save them could be made, the foul air of that small chamber
would have done its fatal work. Indeed, they knew that before one day
should have passed their misery would be ended.

Even as they tried to talk, poor Boodle, saying that he was sleepy, lay
down on the bare rock floor, where he was almost instantly fast asleep
and breathing heavily. "'Tis like he'll never wake again," said one of
the miners, gloomily.

"Let him sleep, then; 'tis the easiest way out of it," responded a
comrade.

One after another they succumbed to the effects of the heavy atmosphere,
and fell asleep. Finally, all excepting the crippled lad, even including
Monk Tooley, whose light Paul had taken and set beside him, lay
stretched out on the hard floor, sound asleep and breathing in a
distressed manner.

Paul felt drowsy, but the horror of his surroundings was too great to
admit of his sleeping. He wanted to think, and try and prepare his mind
for the awful unknown future that overshadowed him. As he thought, great
tears began to run down his thin cheeks, then came a choking sob, and he
buried his face in his hands. Gradually he became calm again, and his
thoughts resembled delightful dreams, so full were they of pleasant
things. In another moment they would have been dreams, and the last of
that little band would have been wrapped in a slumber from which neither
he nor they would ever have wakened. From this condition a sharp squeak
caused Paul to start and look up.

Directly in front of him, and so close that he could have touched it,
was a large rat, whose eyes twinkled and glistened in the lamplight. As
Paul lifted his head it uttered another squeak and sat up on i