while Anton woke up. I heard him munching, so I knew he was
at his grub. I warned him not to finish it all at once, but he was so
hungry he couldn't stop. I couldn't blame him much, at that. I was so
ravenous that my stomach seemed to be tying itself up in knots, and
the flesh inside seemed to crawl.

"I had to tell him that Jim had gone off by himself. Anton didn't say
much to that. In fact, he didn't want to talk at all. He was brooding
all the time. Twice I overheard him muttering to himself, and both
times he was talking about Otto and his warning.

"I could see he was blaming me, but I'll say this for the boy--he
never once said that he regretted having come back to warn me."

"That," interrupted the superintendent emphatically, "shows the boy is
good stuff. It takes a good deal of moral courage to keep from blaming
some one else, when you're in a pinch. I remember, once, in West
Australia--" He checked himself. "Go ahead with your story, lad."

Clem resumed.

"Some time after--it seemed about an hour, though it may have been a
good deal less or a good deal more--we heard shouting.

"'Jim's found the way out!' cried Anton, and scrambled to his feet.

"I grabbed him as he rose.

"'Don't run off in that fool fashion,' I said to him. 'Make sure where
the shouts are coming from, first. You've been down in a mine long
enough to know that the echoes are apt to make a noise sound as if it
comes in a directly opposite direction from the right one.'

"'I'm going to find Jim!' he insisted.

"'If you must run chances, why, I suppose you must,' said I. 'But I'm
going to stay here, where the air's good. Try to get back here. Keep
in touch. You take ten paces forward, then stop and shout. I'll
answer. If you don't hear me, come back.'

"He promised and started off. For the first fifty yards or
so--supposing that he shouted at every ten paces--I heard him clear
enough.

"Then--not another sound! What had happened to him?

"I shouted again and again.

"No reply!

"What was I going to do? Both Jim and Anton were wandering around
loose in the mine galleries, and they might stray until they dropped,
without ever finding the way back. I yelled till I was hoarse.

"Then I got another idea. I took my pick, and kept on hitting the roof
in three regular strokes: 'Tap! Tap! Tap!' and then a pause--just like
that." He illustrated on the head-rail of his hospital bed. "I knew
that the vibration would carry along the rock,