h it an intense thirst, which, of course, could not
be quenched.

Skip drank a little oil now and then, but Fred could not force himself
to taste the ill-smelling stuff.

There was no way by which the passage of time could be measured. When
all were sleepy they laid down to rest, and on awakening a small
quantity of food was dealt out. After the scanty meal had been eaten
they continued what every one now believed was useless labor, ceasing
only when the desire for slumber became overpowering again.

Reckoning these periods of work and rest as days and nights, seventy-two
hours had elapsed when the supply of food was exhausted, and they
realized that the final struggle was at hand.

The air remained reasonably pure, probably because a vent had been left
somewhere in the choked drift, but there were moments when the odor of
gas was perceptible, thus causing Sam to believe efforts were still
being made to reach them by those on the outside.

But little work was done when the food had been consumed. Now and then
one or the other would use the shovel in a listless way for a few
moments at a time, but each had become so weak that any prolonged
exertion was out of the question.

They slept as much as possible, and refrained from discussing the
terrible situation. Fred no longer listened for the sounds which would
tell that help was near at hand, and the odor of the oil did not prevent
him now from taking his share when the scanty allowance was doled out.

Finally the hour came when the last drop had been drank. The tiny flame
of the lamp seemed to have been the only link which connected them with
the outer world, and then without any means of dispelling the profound
darkness the bitterness of death came upon them.

Fred was the first to sink into a stupor from which he awakened only at
rare intervals. Then Skip yielded to despair, and Sam was virtually
alone.

All three were half sitting, half lying in the excavation they had made,
and the moments passed unheeded. To Fred it seemed as if he had been
unconscious for many days when he became aware that Sam was shouting
wildly.

In a dazed way he raised his head, and after a while understood that his
companion was saying in an incoherent tone:

"They're coming! They're coming!"

"Who? Who?" Skip asked, feebly, trying in vain to rise to his feet.

"The miners! Can't you hear the sound of their picks?"

When they could bring themselves to understand the meaning of