Down the Slope. Otis James

an' see if it is a drift, or only a stable."

      "They've exhausted the vein after following it about thirty feet," Sam replied, as he walked the full length, and when on the point of turning to retrace his steps the doors were closed with a clang, while from the outside could be heard the mocking voice of Bart as he shoved the bolts into their sockets:

      "It's deep enough for what I want to use it. You'll do no mischief while here, an' I reckon the bosses will hunt a long time before findin' you."

      Then Sam heard the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps, and thought to himself as he vainly shook the timbers:

      "If those fellows overtook Fred I'm likely to stay here till the mine is flooded."

      CHAPTER VIII

      THE PURSUIT

      When Fred left Sam to defend the breach in the wall he fully realized the necessity of giving the alarm quickly, and did not stop to light his lamp until after scrambling over the barrier of coal.

      Once this had been done he ran at his best pace, guided by the wooden tracks on which the cars were hauled, until he was obliged to halt from sheer lack of breath. A dull sound in the rear caused him to push on again very quickly, for he believed Sam had found it necessary to discharge his weapons.

      On making the second halt a few moments later, he detected a certain scurrying noise which at first he fancied might have been caused by the rats; but immediately came the voice of a man, and he knew the rioters were pursuing him.

      "I'll get a pretty heavy dose if they catch me," he muttered, hurrying once more, and when the journey was half finished it became apparent that the pursuers were gaining upon him.

      The lives of others beside his own might be sacrificed, if he did not win the race, and he bent all his energies to the undertaking. Once he stumbled, almost fell; but luckily recovered his balance, and darted on, forced to run upon the ties because the space either side was so narrow.

      Nearer and nearer came the men until he could hear their heavy breathing, and one of them shouted:

      "Halt, or we'll shoot!"

      Knowing that they might have gotten possession of his gun he had reason to believe the threat would be carried into execution; but he said to himself:

      "It's better to be killed by a bullet than take what they choose to give," and the command only served to quicken his pace.

      Minute after minute passed; no shot was fired, his breath came in quick gasps, and it seemed impossible to continue the flight many seconds longer. The pursuers were now within a few yards, and nothing could be seen ahead. Whether the lower level was close at hand or a mile away he could not decide; but in his despair he shouted for help.

      "Pick up some chunks of slate an' see if you can't hit him. At this rate we shall soon have to turn back."

      One of the men stopped long enough to gather an armful of fragments, and as he continued the pursuit threw them with murderous intent at the fugitive.

      Two passed very near the almost exhausted boy's head; but none inflicted any injury, and he shouted again and again for those who were working at the pumps.

      At the very moment when Fred lost all hope a tiny ray of light appeared from out the gloom, and he cried for help once more; then fell headlong to the ground.

      When he next realized anything he was surrounded by miners, who had evidently been running, and one asked, impatiently:

      "Can you tell us what happened, lad, an' how them sneaks managed to get in here?"

      "Have they gone back?"

      "Indeed they have; we chased them the matter of half a mile, an' then concluded it was time we got the story from you, for it might not have been safe to pass the first drift."

      In a few words Fred told his story, adding as it was ended:

      "There is a big crowd of them, and all hands are bent on flooding the mine."

      "We don't care to have them drown us out like rats, so I reckon there'll have to be some fightin' done before that little game is played."

      "But what about Sam?"

      "They've got hold of him for sure; but he'll have to take his chances with the crowd, for we can't help him now."

      "They'll kill him!"

      "I don't reckon there's much chance of that, lad; but if there was we couldn't do a thing. I'd go farther than most anybody, for he was my butty, an' a right good boy; but he's in the hole to stay 'till the company get the upper hand of them as would kill their best friends to injure the bosses."

      Fred knew it was Bill Thomas who spoke in such a tone of utter helplessness, and there could be no doubt as to the correctness of his statements.

      "I'd go back alone if I had the gun."

      "Then it's lucky you left it behind. Best go up the slope an' tell Donovan what has happened here, so's he can send men to the old shaft. Say to him that we'll be through in a couple of hours more, an' want him to start the pumps, for we're workin' in four feet of water."

      After stationing one of their number as guard the miners resumed their labor, and Fred started toward the slope, bent on inducing Donovan to take some steps for the relief of Sam.

      Wearied by the previous exertions he made but slow progress, and when he reached the breaker at least half an hour had elapsed.

      Those who had been left to guard the mine were on duty in positions where their bodies would be sheltered in case of an attack with fire-arms, and in a group outside were forty or fifty of the rioters.

      "Bill Thomas wants to know if you will start the pumps? They are working in four feet of water," Fred said, as he approached Donovan.

      "It can't be done now if the whole level is flooded. These fellows have made two rushes, and are gettin' ready for another."

      "Don't you suppose this is to prevent you from discovering that a portion of the rioters are getting in through the old shaft?" and Fred told of what had occurred in the drift.

      "That's jest the size of it; but what can be done? We can't spare a man from here."

      "There are surely more at the store who would help us."

      "Very likely; but they won't come while this crowd is here."

      "If Mr. Wright knew what was going on he could send a party to the shaft."

      "Yes, if he knew it."

      "Why not send him word?"

      "How?"

      This was a question. Fred did not answer, and Donovan continued:

      "There's no chance by which any one could get from here to the store, while that gang of murderers keep watch over all our movements."

      "It is nearly night. In an hour it will be too dark for them to see what is going on."

      "Who will take the risk of trying to slip past them?"

      "I will."

      "You'll be in a worse box than Sam is, if they catch you."

      "Something must be done, and since you can't spare anybody to go to the poor fellow's assistance I'm ready to take my chances while trying to help him."

      Donovan did not reply until after looking carefully around as if calculating the probabilities of success, and then he said:

      "I've a mind to let you attempt it. If the soldiers don't arrive before morning, and Billings' crowd are coming through the old shaft as you say, we must have help soon, or give up the fight. There is a chance you will get past all right, and I'm certain we can expect no one to come unless we say it is impossible to hold out longer."

      "I am ready to go."

      "Very well; wait until it is dark, an' then you may make a try for it."

      It would have pleased Fred better, if he could have been actively employed at once, for the knowledge that Sam was in the power of the rioters troubled him more than personal danger would have done; but nothing remained save