When the mine was reached, operations were at once commenced to remove the fallen stones. Tad took command, and several times he thought he heard the sound of hammering from the other side--but, perhaps, after all it was only an echo. After a careful examination, it was decided that all the loose rock had fallen, and that to remove it was not dangerous. They began work at the top in order to make a hole big enough to reach the men. They had not worked long when they heard sounds from the other side. They were not all dead at least, and if they could but get to them before they suffocated all would be well. The imprisoned miners evidently understood the plan of action, for the sounds from the other side indicated that they, too, were working at the top of the wall. By night a small opening was made and messages exchanged. There were seven men inside--one dead, two very badly hurt, and the others bruised and cut, but able to help themselves. Water and hot food were passed to them, then the work of rescue was taken up in earnest. Mr. Williams had a fractured leg and was unconscious, but was still living. Instead of rushing to the solid wall end of the tunnel, where he would have been comparatively safe, at the first sign of danger he had rushed toward the entrance with one other man, and had been struck down by the falling stone. If he had started out thirty seconds sooner, he would have been crushed to death, as his companion was. Late that night a large enough hole had been made to move the wounded men out. Tad was the first to enter, and the first man to be brought out was Williams. Tad picked him up in his great strong arms and tenderly carried him to the cabin. By midnight the broken leg was dressed and the cuts and bruises bandaged. Tad proved as good a nurse as he was a miner. As he worked over Williams a great pity filled his heart, for Tad knew only too well that he had been anything but a happy man. The tunnel had been driven very rapidly without proper trussing, and it seemed to Tad that the entire dyke must have been shaken by the blasts that had caused Mr. Thornton's death years before. Without a second's notice the shaly rock had given a little, then caved in. It seemed a strange turn of fate to Tad that the same blast that had taken away his partner many years ago had now probably taken away his only enemy. With these thoughts came an intense hatred for the mine and a tender pity for the man that had so wronged him. Tad had put his body to a tremendous test, and every nerve and every muscle was fairly tingling, so he drew up a chair to the bedside and rested. In a little while Mr. Williams became conscious, but on recognizing Tad at his bedside he slipped back again into unconsciousness, muttering strange, broken apologies and begging for mercy. Tad thanked God as he sat there that night that he had never harmed a brother man willfully and that his life had always been, at least to the best of his ability, on the square.