When they had almost completed the circuit of the place, hunting carefully for any sign of recent removal of rock, for any place where the stolen gold might possibly have been hidden, they were of the unanimous opinion that no one had been in the place since it was originally deserted. There was not the vestige of a hiding place. The abandoned working was but one of many in that locality, one lucky strike in the neighborhood having sent other miners into a frenzy of excavation on their respective claims. It had been worked for a short time and then left to its fate.
“I don’t think there’s anything here,” said Joe.
“I’m sure of it. Oh, well, we couldn’t expect to find the gold right off the bat. There are lots of other mines to search yet, and most of them plenty deeper than this.”
“Think we should go back?”
“Just a minute. There seems to be a passage here.”
Frank’s light had revealed a narrow opening at the extreme end of the cavern. He bent down and examined it more carefully.
“This seems to lead somewhere,” he said. “I think I’ll follow it.” He crouched down and made his way on hands and knees into the passage. Joe waited until he had disappeared and then called after him.
“I’ll wait here.”
“If it leads anywhere I’ll call you.”
Joe could hear his brother scrambling along through the little corridor in the rocks. After a while the sounds died away. It was dark and lonely in the cavern in which he stood. He waited for Frank’s summons to follow.
After five minutes there was still not a sound from the opening into which his brother had disappeared. Joe began to get anxious. He knelt down and flashed his light into the interior of the passage. There was no sign of Frank.
“I wonder if anything has happened to him,” he muttered.
When another five minutes passed and there was still no sign of his brother, Joe decided to invade the passage himself. Anything might have happened. Frank might have been overcome by poisonous gases in the depth of the mine. He might have tumbled down some unseen pit and hurt himself. Flashing the light ahead of him, Joe crawled into the narrow corridor in the face of the rock.
For several yards the passage extended directly ahead; then there was a turning. Examining the corridor, Joe saw that it was not a natural opening in the rock, but had been constructed by human hands, for the marks of pick and shovel were plainly visible. It had been blasted out of the rock, and for a short distance the dimensions of the passage were of good size, but gradually they narrowed.
He had just gone past the turn in the tunnel when he heard a faint shout.
“Joe! Joe!”
It seemed to come from a long distance, and there was a note of appeal in it that told the boy his brother was in danger.
Scrambling on through the tunnel that seemed to open before him in the vivid circle of light, he made his way toward Frank. He heard the cry again, and this time it was louder. He shouted back:
“I’m coming. What’s the matter?”
“I’m trapped here. My foot is caught.”
On through the gloomy tunnel Joe went.
At last the light revealed the form of his brother some distance ahead. Frank was lying flat on the rocky floor of the passage, with his foot caught in a crevice between two heavy boulders. He had tried to climb over them, and one rock had evidently become dislodged, pinning his foot against the other.
“Are you hurt?” asked Joe anxiously, as he reached Frank’s side.
“No. I’m all right. But I can’t move my foot.”
Joe put down the flashlight so that its glare clearly illuminated the scene. Then he went over to the boulder and exerted all his strength to move it. But the boulder was heavy. Had it struck Frank’s foot directly it would have shattered it to a pulp. Fortunately, it had merely slid into position above the other rock, pressing against the boy’s ankle and imprisoning his foot in the crevice between.
Frank was unable to lend his brother any assistance. He was lying face downward and was unable to rise to a sitting position.
“It’s—mighty—heavy!” panted Joe, as he strove to move the heavy boulder. It refused to budge.
“Rest a bit and then try it again.”
Joe sat down, breathing heavily.
“How did it happen?” he asked.
“I was crawling along through the tunnel when I saw this pile of boulders ahead. At first I was going to turn back, but I thought that when I had come this far it was foolish to turn around, so I started to climb over the boulders. Just as I was almost over, that big boulder slid down against the other one—and there I was. Lucky I didn’t break my leg.”
“I’m afraid to move that boulder the wrong way, or it might roll over onto you. There’s only one way to move it safely and that is to lift it straight up, just enough to release your foot. But I’m afraid I’m not strong enough.”
“Try it again, anyway.”
Again Joe applied himself to the heavy rock. Although he strained and gasped in his efforts to move it, the boulder defied his efforts and he was unable to budge it an inch. He made attempt after attempt, but it soon became evident that the effort was beyond his strength, and at last he was forced to sink back, exhausted, against the wall. He mopped his brow.
“Too heavy!” he declared, out of breath.
Frank was silent.
“If we only had a crowbar of some kind!” he suggested at last. “It wouldn’t be hard to move it then.”
Joe looked up.
“Why, I
