INTO THE DEPTHS
Black, horrid darkness closed in smotheringly on Jerry as the light
went out. Afterwards he seemed to remember having screamed in a frenzy
of terror, but he was never sure as to that. Perhaps his voice, like
his body, became for the instant paralyzed. At all events, it seemed
to him minutes, although it was probably but the fraction of a moment,
before the power of action returned, and with it the faculty of
thought. Standing there in the darkness, he cried at the top of his
voice:
“_Tom! Tom! Are you hurt? Can you hear me? Tom!_”
No answer came, though his heart was pounding so violently that it
seemed to shake his whole body and the sound of it might well have
drowned all else. Cautiously he lowered himself to hands and knees
and cautiously he crept forward in the blackness until one shaking,
exploring hand hung over the edge of the pit. Again he shouted, and
now, as he had noted before, his voice came back to him in hollow
echoes from the depths of the shaft. But, amongst the sepulchral and
ghostly voices was one that brought such a revulsion of feeling as to
make Jerry’s heart nearly stop beating. It was no echo, but a distinct
though faint answer to his hail, coming, as it seemed, from the very
depths of the earth:
“Jerry!”
With a sob of relief, Jerry called again. “Tom! Can you hear me? Are
you safe?”
“Yes!” The voice sounded stronger now. “I’m in water, holding on to
a――――” Jerry couldn’t get that word, for Tom’s voice grew faint again.
Jerry waited a moment. Then: “I’ve hurt my arm, I think,” Tom went on
slowly. “The left one. Can you get me out, Jerry?”
“Yes! Just you hold on a minute! Can you?”
“Yes, but――please hurry!”
“Coming, Tom!” Jerry reached for the end of the ladder, found the two
uprights, drew himself toward them on his knees. Then, not without a
prickling sensation down his spine, he laid himself face down on the
tunnel floor, grasped an upright in each hand and pushed backward until
his feet dangled over the void. Whether the ladder, if it really was
a ladder, would hold him he did not know. But he groped with his feet
for the top round, found it at last and cautiously placed his weight
on it. It held, and, breathing a little prayer, Jerry lowered himself
into the shaft, his hands straining hard at their holds and his heart
thumping sickeningly. It took courage to place absolute reliance on
that unseen ladder, but after a moment of fearful indecision, he bent
one leg and searched with his other foot for the next rung. He found it
and lowered his weight to it. His head now was, he judged, below the
level of the tunnel floor, for it was no longer possible to hold to the
uprights, secured as they were directly to the wall of the shaft, and
he was forced to grip the rungs. So close were these to the wall that
there was scarcely space for his feet to lodge on them, and he wished
mightily that he had thought to discard his shoes. The rungs were worn
where years before other feet had trod them, but they still seemed
stout, and gradually he found confidence, and courage returned.
After a minute or two he stopped and peered down into the black void
beneath him. “Tom!” he called.
“Hello!”
“I’m coming down by the ladder!”
There was a moment’s silence, and then: “Is it safe?” asked the faint
voice below.
“I reckon so. It’s all right so far. Can you hang on?”
“Yes!” But the voice, though courageous, quavered piteously.
“Just a minute more!” called Jerry reassuringly, although in his heart
he knew that, even could he reach the bottom of the ladder, his task
would be but begun. But he went on, a bit faster now, though testing
each rung before he put his full weight on it. Suddenly his heart
missed a beat. As he placed one foot on a crosspiece there was a
snapping sound and it gave beneath him. In the silence there came the
noise of a tiny splash as one fragment of the broken rung struck the
water below. Jerry, startled, clung desperately there, and Tom’s voice
came anxiously.
“What――happened? Are you――all right?”
“Yes!” Jerry’s voice shook a little in spite of his effort to keep it
steady. “A rung broke, that’s all.” Already, kneeling now on the rung
on which he had been standing, he was groping for the support next
below the broken one. To his joy and relief it was there and firm. As
he lowered himself to it Tom again spoke.
“Jerry! Listen! You’d better not try it. You’d better go back
for――help.”
“It would take half an hour,” cried Jerry. “Could you――hold out, Tom?”
There was a long pause before the answer came. “I could――try,” said Tom.
“I’m coming down this way!” declared Jerry determinedly. “I must be
halfway already! Tom, if you can’t hold on, if you have to let go, can
you keep afloat for a spell?”
“I’ll try, Jerry. One arm’s――sort of――gone――back――on me.”
“I’m coming!” Jerry managed to make his voice sound fairly cheerful
that time. Another rung and another. He dared not hurry too much,
dared not trust a support until he had tested it well, but he made
progress. By now, he judged, he had lowered himself a full forty feet.
The last time he had spoken Tom’s voice had sounded much nearer. If
the ladder held――Jerry couldn’t trust himself even to consider the
other contingency――as much more time and effort should bring him to the
bottom of it. What was to happen then he didn’t know. The ladder might
stop short of the surface of the water, in which case he must somehow
wriggle out of his garments and, tying them together, trust to reaching
Tom in that way. Failing that――but there Jerry’s planning stopped. At
the back of his mind, I think, lurked the grim determination to stand
by Tom to the end, whatever the end might be. Returning to the school
for aid was clear outside his reckoning, for he well knew that with
one arm injured beyond use, Tom could never stay afloat for the length
of time necessary to reach the school and return. But Jerry’s planning
went no further than an effort to reach Tom by hand or by improvised
line. After that he could only hope!
After he had lowered himself by a dozen more rungs he spoke again. “All
right, Tom?”
“All right!” was the answer, but Jerry knew that the other was almost
at the limit of endurance, for the words came with a gasp that spoke
of pain. Grimly Jerry found the succeeding rung. He had lost his cap
long before and his forehead was beaded with a perspiration that lay
chill upon it. His hands that grasped the rungs tightly were at once
wet and clammy and in spite of himself he could not keep his muscles
from trembling. Each time he bent a knee he feared that he could not
straighten it again. It was as though not bone but water lay beneath
the flesh. But he kept on, with slow and cautious haste. He must, he
told himself exultantly, be close now to the flooded bottom of the
shaft. And telling himself that, his heart sank sickeningly.
His groping foot found only space! Not only was the next rung missing,
but the one beyond that, and, still searching, the fearful knowledge
came to him that just beneath him the whole ladder was gone! A surge
of despair almost loosened his hold. He closed his staring eyes and
a sob escaped him while his grip on the rung above him tightened
frantically. Despair and terror both kept him silent and motionless for
a long moment. Then with groping feet he made certain. On each side the
upright was missing. He could feel the rough and splintered ends. The
ladder had failed him after all!
Desperately he clung there, with a feeling of horrid faintness. What
could he do? Although he had almost accomplished the descent, yet he
was sure that far too great a distance intervened between him and Tom
to be bridged by any means at his command. He feared to speak yet lest
Tom would guess and give up his fight, feared to speak at all since,
having spoken, he must finally tell the truth. Jerry thought hard and
desperately, clinging there in the encompassing darkness, and seconds
sped.
At last he spoke, and, strangely, his voice held no hint of
discouragement or despair. He spoke, indeed, quietly and even cheerily,
“Tom,” he said.
“Yes?”
“All right, just wanted to find out how far away you were. Reckon
you’re about twenty feet from me now, eh?” Doubtless silence gave
assent, for Jerry went on. “Where are you, Tom? On this side of the
shaft or the other? Can you tell where I am from my voice?”
“Yes,” answered Tom weakly, hesitatingly, “You’re on the other side.
I’m hanging――to a spike here across the shaft.”
“Good! Keep your head down, Tom. Keep as close to the side as you can.
I’m going to drop something in a minute and I don’t want it should hit
you, understand, Tom?”
“What――is it?”
“I reckon it’ll be a piece of this ladder,” answered Jerry grimly. “It
will be if I can break it loose. I can’t get no nigher to you, Tom, for
there ain’t no more ladder!”