Down the Slope. Otis James

and understanding also that he could do nothing to better his condition, held his peace.

      Skip showed himself to be an adept in the business of subduing refractory breaker boys, by giving his orders promptly, and in such a manner as would soonest accomplish the work. Under his energetic directions Fred's hands were soon tied behind his back, a gag was fastened in his mouth, and the rope placed under his arms.

      "Now raise him up, an' you needn't be careful about lettin' him drop. The sooner he gets to the bottom the quicker we can go back to the store. Put the bundles near the mouth of the shaft, an' in a couple of days somebody will find him."

      "It'll go rough with us if he tells who left him here," one of the party suggested.

      "There's no danger of that. Before he gets out he'll know what it means to fool with us."

      Fred remained passive. He could not believe these boys would dare to do anything very serious. And to attempt resistance would accomplish no possible good.

      "Raise him up!" Skip shouted, and in another instant Fred was hanging over what appeared to be a deep hole, to be dropped with a suddenness and force which, for the time being, deprived him of consciousness.

      While he lay at the bottom of the shaft the regulators placed the parcels taken from the store, in such a manner as to make it appear that he had fallen in by accident, and when this had been done they went swiftly toward the settlement, regardless of whether their victim lived or died.

      CHAPTER III

      IN THE SHAFT

      Mrs. Byram had no suspicion that her son might be exposed to any danger until after he had been absent an hour, and then the remembrance of the threats made by Skip Miller and his friends caused her the deepest anxiety. Fred would not have staid at the store longer than was absolutely necessary, and the fear of foul play had hardly gained possession of her mind before she was on her way to search for him.

      The company's clerk had but just finished explaining that the new breaker boy left there with his purchases some time previous, when Donovan entered in time to hear the widow say:

      "I do not understand why he should remain away so long, for he must know I would be troubled concerning him."

      "Didn't your boy stay in the house after I left him at the gate, Mrs. Byram?" the breaker boss asked.

      Mrs. Byram explained why Fred ventured out, and the man appeared to be disturbed in mind.

      "This is just the time when he oughter kept his nose inside. Them young ruffians are likely to do any mischief."

      "Then you believe something serious has happened."

      "I didn't say quite that; but it won't do much harm to have a look for him. You go home, an' I'll call there in an hour." Then turning to some of the loungers, he asked, "Has anybody seen Skip Miller lately?"

      "You're allers tryin' to make out that he's at the bottom of everything that goes wrong," Skip's father, who entered at this moment, said in a surly tone.

      "If he ain't, it's not for lack of willingness. Do you know where he is?"

      "Home, where he's been for an hour or more."

      Donovan looked hard at the speaker, and Miller retorted:

      "If you don't believe me, it won't take long to find out for yourself."

      "That's exactly what I'm going to do. Mrs. Byram, I will see you again in less than an hour."

      With these words the breaker boss left the store, and Fred's mother walked slowly home, the anxiety in her heart growing more intense each moment.

      Two hours passed before Donovan returned and announced his inability to find the missing boy.

      "I did think Skip might have had a hand in it," he said; "but I reckon he's innocent this time. I found him near his own home with a crowd of cronies, and according to all accounts he's been there since supper."

      "But what has become of Fred?" Mrs. Byram asked, preserving a semblance of calmness only after the greatest difficulty.

      "I hope nothing serious has happened. The superintendent has been notified, and promises to send men out in search of him at once. It is just possible he went down the slope to see the night shift at work."

      There was nothing in these words to afford the distressed mother any relief, and the sorrow which would not be controlled took complete possession of her, as Donovan hurried away to join those who were examining every place where an accident might have occurred.

      Meanwhile the subject of all this commotion remained where the regulators had left him. It was a long time before he recovered consciousness, and then several moments were spent in trying to decide where he was and what had happened.

      The fragments of conversation heard while the boys were carrying him told that he was in an abandoned shaft, and, unacquainted though he was with mines in general, it did not require much thought to convince him how nearly impossible it would be to escape unaided.

      The bonds which fastened his limbs, as well as the gag, had not been tied firmly, and in a short time he was free to begin such an examination of the place as was possible in the profound darkness.

      Here and there he could feel the timbers left when the shaft was deserted, and, after groping about some moments, discovered a tunnel-like opening ten or twelve feet across. The roof or top of this place was beyond his reach, and he knew it must be a drift from which all the coal had been taken.

      "It may lead for miles under the hill, and I would be no better off by following it," he thought. "Unless there is a slope which communicates with it, I'd be in a worse fix than now, because the chances of being lost or suffocated must be about even."

      Then in his despair he shouted at the full strength of his lungs, until it was impossible to speak louder than a whisper.

      Nothing less than the booming of a cannon could have been heard from the shaft by any one in the settlement, and with the night shift in the working mine there would hardly be any one in the vicinity.

      After giving full sway to his grief for half an hour or more, anger replaced sorrow, and he rushed into the tunnel with no other thought than to escape from that particular place.

      Stumbling on over decaying timbers, rocks, and mounds of earth which had fallen from the roof, he pushed straight ahead until the decided inclination told that this drift tended upward. There was now reason to believe it might communicate with another which, in turn, was reached by a slope, and hope grew strong once more.

      How long he had traveled when the sound of voices caused him to halt it was impossible to form any idea; but it seemed as if several hours elapsed, and the first thought was to shout for help.

      "I won't do it," he said, checking himself. "This tunnel may have led me back to the other mine, and if the people ahead are some of the night shift they'll be likely to have considerable sport at my expense."

      Walking cautiously in the direction of the voices he was suddenly brought to a standstill by an apparently solid wall of earth.

      He groped around until there was no question but that he had reached the end of the drift, and when this discovery had been made he found a small aperture which opened into a gallery or chamber where were a dozen men, the lamps in their hats illumining the place sufficiently for Fred to distinguish the party.

      He had reached the limit of the abandoned drift, and was looking in upon a portion of the new mine.

      Even now he made no appeal for help. The conversation of the men caused him to listen with no thought of his own condition.

      "Unless we do the job to-morrow night there's little chance of gettin' through with it all right," one of the party was saying, and another replied with an oath:

      "There's no reason why we should wait. To-night would suit me."

      "I don't believe in it," a third man said. "What's to be gained by floodin' the mine, an' turnin' ourselves out of a chance to earn a living?"

      "You allers was chicken-hearted, Joe Brace. Haven't we put up with enough from the mine owners an'