He picked
it up and placed it in his bosom. He brushed away a tear or two
from his eyes and hastened on. It was no time to weep over the lad's
sufferings when he expected to find his body at every step he took.
But he went a long distance and saw no other sign of the boy's
passage. He came to a place at last where the dirt on the floor of the
heading was wet. He bent down and made careful scrutiny from side to
side, but there were no foot-prints there save his own. He had, in his
haste gone too far. He turned back with a desperate longing at his
heart. He knew that the lad must be somewhere near.
At one point, an unblocked entrance opened from the heading into the
air-way at an acute angle. He thought the boy might have turned into
that, and he passed up through it and so into the chambers. He stopped
at times to call Ralph's name, but no answer ever came. He wandered
back, finally, toward the fall, and down into the heading where
the burned coat was. After a few moments of rest, he started again,
examining every inch of the ground as he went. This time he found
where Ralph had turned off into the air-way. He traced his foot-prints
up through an entrance into the chambers and there they were again
lost. But he passed on through the open places, calling as he went,
and came finally to the sump near the foot of the slope. He held his
lamp high and looked out over the black surface of the water. Not far
away the roof came down to meet it. A dreadful apprehension entered
the man's mind.
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