THE STRUGGLE
Recognizing at once that the voice they had just heard did not belong to
the man for whom they were looking the rioters remained silent with
surprise, and during this short interval Sam brought the butt of his gun
to the floor with unnecessary force in order that there might be no
question about his being armed.
"Who is inside?" one of the party finally asked, and Sam replied:
"It does not make any difference so long as you don't attempt to come
through."
"We shall do it just the same, an' it'll be so much the worse for you if
a finger is raised to stop us."
"There's no need of very much talk. We're here to keep you out. At the
first movement both will shoot, and we've got ammunition to hold the
place 'till the others come."
This bold assertion caused the rioters no little uneasiness, as could be
told from the fact that the entire party retreated down the drift, where
they apparently began a consultation as to the best course to be pursued
under the circumstances.
"Come on this side," Sam whispered. "If we stand opposite each other and
are obliged to shoot we shall get the worst of it."
"Do you really mean to kill them?" Fred asked as he changed his
position.
"I intend to hit whoever comes through if I can, an' they'll have to run
the risk of the killin' part."
"If we could only send word to Donovan."
"Well, we can't, an' it looks as if we might have to stay here a long
while, unless they get the best of us. Nobody will think of coming to
look for us for a good many hours, an' that's why I said we were in a
fix."
Neither of the boys cared to prolong the conversation. Their situation
was desperate, and to state it in words seemed like making it worse,
but, as Fred afterward said, "they kept up a terrible thinking," until
the rioters began operations by approaching the aperture once more,
keeping close to the wall on either side to prevent giving the defenders
an opportunity of using their weapons.
"See here," the spokesman began, "we've come to give you a chance of
actin' square. You know who we are, an' that what we do will help all
hands who work here. Let us through peaceably, an' we'll allers be your
friends, but if we're obliged to fight for it there'll be nothin' left
of you."
"We'll take our chances rather than have such as you call us friends;
but it strikes me that a fight, with all the weapons on our side, is too
big a contract for you to tackle."
"Put out your lamps, boys, an' we'll show these fools what can be done."
In an instant the tunnel was plunged in profound darkness, and the
lights worn by the boys served to reveal their whereabouts clearly.
Both realized how great would be the disadvantages under such
circumstances, and in the least possible time the tiny flames were
extinguished.
Even while this was being done the rioters attempted to effect an
entrance; but, without exposing himself to a blow, Sam discharged his
weapon, paying little regard to accuracy of aim.
The noise of the report echoed and reechoed through the passages, and
the chamber was filled with smoke, during which time Fred fancied he saw
a form leaning half through the aperture, and he also fired.
"That makes two cartridges, an' now we've only got ten left," Sam said
in a half whisper. "At this rate we can't keep the battle goin' a great
while, an' when the thing is ended we shall have to take whatever they
choose to give."
"Donovan may send some one before the ammunition is exhausted."
"He won't think of such a thing for a good many hours yet. Could you
find your way back to where the men are at work on the pumps?"
"And leave you alone?"
"One of us must go, or else these fellows will soon be where a great
amount of mischief can be done."
"I am willing to do whatever you think best."
"Then go, and tell whoever you meet, of the pickle I am in. I'll stay
because I'll most likely make a better fist at fighting than you."
"Do you want the cartridges?"
"Yes, and the gun."
Fred placed the weapon against the wall near his companion, and turned
to go.
"Don't light your lamp until you are so far away that the flame can't be
seen, for it won't do to let them know we have divided forces."
A silent handshake and Sam was alone.
"It's goin' to be a tough job, an' most likely I'll get the worst of
it," he said to himself, as he leaned toward the aperture in a listening
attitude.
Five minutes passed, and then came a shower of missiles, causing a
choking dust to arise; but doing no further injury. Immediately
afterward the boy fancied another attempt was being made to crawl
through, and he discharged both weapons in rapid succession.
"Now we've got him!" a voice shouted, and before Sam could reload the
guns two or three men were in the chamber.
He crouched in the further corner hoping to slip the cartridges in the
barrel, while they should be hunting for him; but one of the party
ignited a match, and an instant later he was held as if by bands of
iron.
"Light your lamps, an' be lively about it, for there's another one
here!"
Sam made one violent effort to release himself; but in vain. When the
chamber was illuminated he saw a crowd of men peering in every direction
for Fred.
"It's Bill Thomas' butty," one of the party said in surprise. "I didn't
know he was a bosses' pet."
"Neither will he be very long. Where's the other fellow?" and Sam's
captor tried to choke the answer from him.
"If he don't speak quick strangle him. We can't spend much time on a
kid," some one suggested, and the question was repeated.
Sam knew that the men were in no humor to be trifled with, and there was
little doubt but the strangling would follow unless he obeyed. It was
possible to delay the explanations for a few seconds, and thus give Fred
so much more time to reach the lower level.
With this view he coughed and struggled after the vice-like pressure
upon his throat was removed, to make it appear as if it was only with
the greatest difficulty he could breathe, and fully a moment was thus
gained when his captor kicked him two or three times as he said:
"None of that shamming. Speak quick, or I'll give you something to cough
for."
"The fellow who was with me went back to the slope."
"How long ago?"
"When we first knew you were here."
"That's a lie, for we heard you talking."
"What makes you ask any questions if you know better than I?"
"When did he leave?"
"I told you before. Of course he waited long enough to find out how many
there were of you."
At least five minutes had passed from the time Sam was first questioned,
and this must have given Fred a safe start.
"Go after him, Zack, and take Jake with you," the spokesman said,
sharply. "Travel the best you know how, for everything depends on
overtakin' him."
The two men started at full speed, and the leader asked Sam:
"Where is Joe Brace?"
"Brace?" Sam repeated, as if in bewilderment, "Why he didn't come with
us."
"Wasn't he in this place when you got here?"
"Of course not. I'm most certain I saw him in the village just after the
works were shut down."
There was a ring of truth in the boy's tones which could not be
mistaken, and the rioters appeared satisfied.
"Abe, go an' tell Billings that Brace got out of here in time to warn
Wright, an' let him know what we've struck. Don't waste any time now."
When the messenger had departed the leader beckoned to another member of
the party, and said as he pointed to Sam:
"Take care of him. The whole thing would soon be up if he should get
away."
"What'll I do with the cub?" the man asked in a surly tone.
"Anything so that you keep him safe. A thump on the head will help
straighten matters, if he tries to kick up a row."
"Where are you going?"
"We'll foller up Zack an' Jake, an' if they catch the boy there'll be
nothin' to prevent our finishin' the business we came for."
After a brief consultation, which was carried on in such low tones that
Sam could not distinguish a word, the men started down the drift,
leaving the prisoner and his captor alone.
Sam knew the man was named Bart Skinner, and that he was an intimate
friend of Billings'. He had the reputation of being quarrelsome and
intemperate, and was exactly the sort of person one would expect to see
among such a party as were now committing lawless deeds.
"I don't count on wastin' much time with you," Bart said when the
footsteps of his companions had died away in the distance. "I'll leave
you in a safe place pervidin' you behave; but let me hear one yip, an'
I'll try the weight of my fist. Come along."
No attempt had been made to fetter Sam. The rioters understood that it
was impossible for him to escape, and probably looked upon it as a clear
waste of labor.
When Bart spoke he seized the boy by each arm, forcing him through the
aperture, and then retaining his hold as he followed. Once in the tunnel
the two pressed on at a rapid gait toward the shaft, Sam being obliged
to walk a few paces in advance, until they arrived at a point where a
tunnel had been run at right angles with the drift; but which was shut
off by stout wooden doors.
"We'll stop here a bit," Bart said, as he tried to unfasten the rusty
bolts which had not been used for many years.
Believing that he might as well accept his capture with a good grace
instead of sulking over it, Sam did what he could to assist in opening
the doors.
When the task was finally accomplished Bart motioned for the boy to
enter first, and after assuring himself by the flame of his lamp that
the air was pure, he obeyed.
"Go on a bit, 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."