tion, the hill
was toppling into the pit. In the forefront was the dynamite shed,
splintering under the tons of moving rock. Instantly the last sliver
of the shed was swallowed up, and then other tons of dirt and rock went
piling into the pit, burying the shattered structure in crashing depths
from which lime-rock dust came puffing in clouds.

On the edge of the pit a man was dancing wildly in an aura of dust.
The man was Wagg. He came staggering away from the pit, his arms folded
across his eyes.

"I saw him!" he squalled, when officers met him in their race across the
yard from the prison. "He was in the shed. I told him to keep away from
them wires. I've been telling everybody to keep off'n them wires. But
everybody has been bound and determined to fool with 'em." He pulled
down his arms and shot accusatory digit at the deputy warden whom he had
previously rebuked. "Only this day I had to warn you not to fool with
them wires. He must have done it. I saw him go under. It's Gawd-awful.
I'll never forget it--how he looked. Gimme water!"

He sucked from the edge of the tin dipper which a man brought, suffling
like a thirsty horse. He rolled up his eyes and surveyed the warden, who
had arrived.

"Number Two-Seven-Nine--you say he has gone?" The warden's countenance
registered honest horror; but Mr. Wagg's simulated horror was even more
convincing in its intensity.

"He's gone! He's under the whole of it!" Wagg dropped the dipper and
collapsed on the ground. "My nerve is all busted, Warden. I sha'n't ever
have any more grit to be a guard. I ask to be discharged. Here and now I
beg to be fired!"

"I'll arrange a furlough for you, Wagg," said the warden, with
understanding sympathy. "You're entitled to a lay-off with pay. It was a
terrible thing to see!"

"And his mother!" mourned the guard. "Break it to her easy!"

"A dreadful--dreadful affair," insisted the warden.

He started toward the edge of the pit. "And the prison commissioners,
the way state finances are, will never go to the expense of having all
that rock moved to dig him out."

"Probably not, seeing that he's under the whole of it," agreed Wagg.
"He was a likable chap, spite of what he had done to get in here. Poor
Two-Seven-Nine!"

One of the inside guards had arrived at the scene of mourning. He was
greatly excited. "And I guess it's poor Two-Eight-Two! He's missing from
the noon count-up, Mr. Warden!"

Wagg struggled upon his feet. He was not s