THE PURSUIT UNDERGROUND.
“Heavens!” he gasped. “We cannot go down now. Back for your life,
Barney.”
The Celt, who would have followed his master anywhere, obeyed this
command.
Back up the stairs they sprang.
They were just in time.
Two of the Mexicans came up the stone steps into the gallery.
They paused by the landing and stood for some time engaged in
conversation.
Of course while they should remain there the way was blocked for Frank
and Barney.
The two fugitives were dismayed.
They knew that at any moment the miners might return to their work and
then their escape from the old shaft would be discovered.
Even as this fear was upon them, Frank heard a commotion in the gallery
above.
A loud cry in the Mexican tongue came down from above.
The effect was startling.
Instantly the greasers below sprang up with loud cries, and made a rush
for the galleries.
Frank turned to Barney.
The truth had burst upon him with horrible force.
“My God!” he gasped. “We are lost, Barney. They have discovered our
escape!”
“Begorra, that’s thrue enough,” agreed the Celt. “Phwat shall we do,
sor?”
For a moment Frank was in a quandary.
But there was no time to lose.
The Mexicans were swarming up into the galleries.
To retreat into the shaft from which they had emerged would be folly.
But where else could they go?
It was a serious question.
There was no time to lose.
Suddenly, at that moment, Frank saw a narrow opening in the gallery
wall.
He rushed into it and found that he was in one of the many passages
which made a honeycomb of the hill.
All was darkness, but the young inventor did not care for this, so long
as safety was assured.
Barney was close behind.
They were just in time to avoid being seen by the foe.
Fortunately not one of the Mexicans turned into this passage.
“Thank Heaven, we have given them the slip for a moment,” Frank
breathed.
“Bejabers, I’ve an idea!” exclaimed Barney, with eagerness.
“Indeed!” said Frank. “What is it, Barney?”
“Shure, sor, let us stay here by the opening. Pretty quick the
blathershites will all be gone by. Shure, thin, we kin slip out av
here, an’ p’r’aps foinde our way out through the main passage. Do yez
see?”
“There is logic in your plan, Barney,” declared Frank. “I think we will
try it.”
Accordingly the two fugitives waited for their pursuers to pass.
Soon they were heard in the upper gallery, and it seemed as if the
coast was clear.
“Bejabers, now’s our toime,” cried Barney.
“All right,” agreed Frank. “Let us try the game.”
“Will yez lead the way, and I’ll folly, if it is to perdition?”
“I will.”
Frank crept out into the gallery.
He cast a glance up the gallery and saw nobody.
But as he looked in the other direction he was given a mighty thrill of
horror and dismay.
There, not twenty feet below, stood half a dozen of the greasers.
They blocked the passage, and what was worse at that moment, they saw
Frank Reade, Jr., and gave a yell of discovery.
It was echoed in the gallery above, and then exciting scenes followed.
Frank darted back into the passage.
He was not a moment too quick.
The crack of rifles was heard, and bullets flattened against the
gallery wall.
“My soul! we are discovered!” he cried, wildly. “Come, Barney, we must
follow this passage somewhere--anywhere.”
“That’s the divil’s luck!” cried Barney, in dismay. “But sure, sir,
I’m wid yez foriver. We’ll give the omadhouns the slip yet, or me name
ain’t O’Shea.”
Into the passage they darted.
The sounds of pursuit came in their rear.
All was dense blackness in the shaft and they were obliged to rush on
blindly.
Lights were seen in their rear, and at times it seemed as if their
pursuers must surely overtake them.
But Frank was possessed of a deadly resolution.
He knew that if he was caught it would be certain death.
Of course in the darkness there was imminent danger at any moment of
falling into some dangerous pit or hole.
But the young inventor preferred such a fate to certain capture.
Barney kept at his heels closely.
Thus they rushed on at full speed.
Every moment new passages were encountered. Frank adopted the tactics
of dodging into every one he could come to and keeping to the right.
In this way he had soon distanced his pursuers.
The sounds of pursuit died out in the rear.
Satisfied of their safety for the moment they came to a halt.
Both were quite exhausted, and Barney was particularly so. The Celt
flung himself flat upon the floor of the cavern.
“Och hone, Misther Frank,” he cried, in a panting manner, “shure, it’s
all done out I am wid the exertion av the run. But we’ve disthanced the
divils anyhow.”
“That’s true,” agreed Frank, “but in my opinion we are a long ways from
being out of the scrape.”
“Shure, that’s right.”
“I’ve no idea where we are or how we’ll ever get out of this place.”
“Bejabers, I’m sthuck intoirely mesilf an that.”
“But I still cling to a hope that we will yet get out of here all
right.”
“I hope so, sor.”
“Of course the greasers are familiar with the passages in this mine.”
“Yis, sor.”
“They probably will make a very thorough search. In that case they will
be likely to run us down.”
“Shure, I fear that, sor.”
Lying upon the hard floor of the shaft the two fugitives listened
fearfully for sounds of the pursuit.
But none came, and after awhile they felt a renewal of hope.
But to remain where they were was out of the question.
Where to go or what to do was a problem.
Finally Frank decided that the best move was to cautiously work their
way if possible back to the main body of the mine.
But in the fearful darkness this did not seem likely to be an easy bit
of work.
One passage could not be told from another.
Yet Frank decided upon this as the only feasible move.
He went in advance and Barney followed slowly.
In this manner they crept along in a cautious way. What seemed an age
passed, when a startling incident occurred.
Suddenly Frank heard a muffled voice in what seemed like a long
distance away.
“Misther Frank! Shure, where have yez gone?”
“Barney!” cried Frank, in surprise, “where are you?”
“Shure, I don’t know, sor.”
“Well, that is odd!” exclaimed the young inventor, with a laugh, in
spite of the possible seriousness of the situation. “How did you get
there?”
“I don’t know that, sor.”
Frank was puzzled.
The voice of the Celt seemed to be within a few yards of him, and yet
was dull and muffled.
It occurred to Frank of a sudden that Barney had wandered into a
parallel passage and was now opposite him, beyond a thick wall of stone.
Satisfied of this, Frank said:
“I thought you were right behind me, Barney.”
“Shure, so I was.”
“But you are in another passage. You must have deviated back here a
ways.”
“Very loikely, sor. Pwhat shall I do about it?”
“Why, go back, of course, and get into the right passage and come along
with me.”
“All roight, sor.”
“Be sure and take the first turn to the right. Then keep straight along
the wall until you reach me.”
“Will yez wait, sor?”
“Of course I will.”
“All roight. Here goes thin.”
Frank heard a distant shuffling sound and then all was still.
What seemed like an age passed.
Barney did not appear.
Frank listened in vain for some sound of his approach.
All was tomb-like stillness.
“Well,” muttered the young inventor, “that is queer.”
Finally Frank raised his voice and shouted:
“Barney! Where are you?”
Again and again he shouted.
No answer came back. Now Frank was really alarmed. Cold perspiration
burst out upon him.
“My soul!” he gasped. “It cannot be that he is lost.”
Fearful that this was the case Frank lost no time, but started to
retrace his steps.
He kept carefully and closely to the wall of the passage and at
intervals shouted loudly.
But each time no answer came.
Only the dull, muffled echoes. It was certainly an alarming matter.
Frank did not credit any assumption that Barney had fallen into the
hands of the greasers.
He reckoned, correctly enough, that the Celt had been misled further
away into other passages and was lost.
Indeed, the mine was a veritable labyrinth, akin to the fabled one of
Crete.
Frank was not sure that he would ever find his way out of the place,
and was oppressed with dismay.
On for some distance he went.
It was easy enough to follow the passage wall.
It seemed certain that it must sooner or later bring him into the one
in which Barney had gone astray.
But the darkness was so very thick that any course was rendered
deceptive.
It was almost impossible to tell, with any degree of certainty, just
where any one would come up. For that matter, it would be easy to keep
up a perpetual circuit until death from sheer exhaustion should come to
end the struggle. It was a situation not without grim terrors.