But it was not of himself he was thinking; it was of poor old Jasper,
dying on the other side of the black wall, deserted, barred out,
alone.
Finally it occurred to him that he should go to some other place in
the mine. The poisonous gases must still be entering through the
crevices of his imperfectly built and rudely plastered wall, and it
would be wise for him to get farther away. His oil had nearly burned
out again, and he refilled his lamp from the can. Then he arose and
went down the chamber.
It was a very long chamber. When he reached the foot of it he found
the entrances into the heading walled up, and he turned and went along
the air-way for a little distance, and then sat down to rest.
For the first time he noticed that he had cut his hands badly, on the
sharp pieces of coal he had been handling, and he felt that there was
a bruise on his side, doubtless made when he fell through the opening.
Hitherto he had not had a clear idea as to the course he should pursue
when he should have obtained entrance into the old mine. His principal
object had been to get into pure air.
Now, however, he began to consider the matter of his escape. It was
obvious that two methods were open to him. He could either try to make
his way out alone to the old slope near the Dunmore road, or he could
remain in the vicinity of Conway's chamber till help should reach him
from the Burnham mine.
But it might be many hours before assistance would come. The shaft
would have first to be cleared out, and that he knew would be no easy
matter.
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