The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 2 — page 130: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

312 “Tf Symmonds’s gang find me here I might as well have been blown up!” he muttered to himself. ‘‘ My only chance is to get to the shaft and wait for some chance to get up to the top without being seen.” Seizing a moment when the men were working in the far corner of the stope, he slipped across into the main drift, then hurried in the direction where he hoped the shaft lay. He made his way along with reckless speed, heedless of possible pitfalls. He had not gone more than a hundred yards when he heard a shrill whistle behind him and the sharp rumble of a wheelbarrow being pushed toward the shaft. He flattened himself against the side wall and the mucker as he hurried along the drift passed so close that he almost touched Gerard. The latter held his breath, afraid to stir an inch until the man was well beyond him. Three times, as he worked his way to- ward the shaft, he was passed by men coming through the drift, but so intent were they on their own conversation that they did not notice him, though the light from their candles brought his figure into relief. At last he reached the part where the drift ran into the bottom of the shaft. - He leaned out and looked upward. The “ skip ” used to hoist the ore was down, and he could see up the length of the shaft. At the top, where he had ex- pected to find light, all was intense blackness except for a tiny speck of yel- low where the shaft mouth focused upon a star. He realized that he must have been under ground far longer than he had thought and that it was night. Hearing the rattle of a wheelbarrow being run down the drift, he cast about for a place of concealment. Just in time he noticed by the light of the candle that burned by the shaft entrance a pile of oilskins on the ground, and hurriedly hid himself beneath them. Raising a corner of one of the slick- THE ARGOSY. ers a fraction of an inch, he peered out and watched the men slide the ore into the skip. The fragments of their conversation that he caught convinced him of the wis- dom of his concealment. They were speaking of a dynamiting ‘“ job” that they had “ pulled off”’ in San Francisco and gloating over the protection and im- munity afforded to them by the Vampas brotherhood. As Derby watched them a possible method of escape came into his head. He knew that on the bottom of the skip there was apt to be a shackle ring for conven- ience in handling. He noticed with joy that when the men had filled the skip and given the signal to hoist they walked away - from the shaft without looking back- ward. When they had gone he slipped from his place of concealment and lowered him- self carefully into the shaft. His feet struck water by the time he had gone down half his length, and he realized that his hope was true and that the drift he had been in was at lowest level. He let go his grip with his hands and slid into the water, which was up to his neck. He heard the bell to lower, then gradually the darkness above him grew blacker as the skip descended. When it came within arm’s length above him he reached up his hand and grasped the shackle ring. To his horror, the skip kept on de- scending, and when it came to a standstill was only a few inches above the surface of the water. He doubled himself up and tried to force his nose into the narrow crack of the air space, but without suc- cess. He gasped and strangled for breath. A moment more and he knew that he would have to die of suffocation like a rat in a trap. His ear-drums ached with the pressure of the water. There flashed through his mind, even amid his desperate struggles, the realization that this was the end. And yet while he fought to retain conscious- ness for a few precious seconds more, his COMMICOOO (C S (C@