"My lad, my crippled lad's down there, boss; ye can't refuse a feyther the chance to save his boy," pleaded the big miner. "Tom, if he's not already at the foot of the slope, you know as well as I that there's not one chance in ten thousand of finding and getting him out. They tell me the water's rising fast on the upper level already. No, my poor fellow, you must wait a bit. You're to be my right-hand man in the work that I fear is ahead of us. I can't let you throw away your life without a chance of its doing good." "And Derrick, boss, the brave lad I left in the low level facing the waters. It's fearful to think on. If he's drownded and my lad's drownded, their death'll be on my hands. I might ha' gone more slow and cautious like. I might ha' kep' out altogether the day, an' let the low level flood, as ye talked of, boss, but for being a pig-headed fool." "Don't take on that way, Tom. Cheer up, man. You'll see them all coming up out of the trouble safe and sound yet. And don't take this matter to heart as you're doing. If there's any blame to be placed it's on my head; but I don't think there's blame to be placed on any of us. There's One above who rules such matters, and who sends rain and floods as He does the sunshine, all for some wise purpose." Just then word came up the speaking-tube that the water was gaining so fast that all hands were about to leave the mine. At the same instant the harsh clang of the engine-room gong was heard. The wire cable was strained taut, and then began to move slowly over its rollers. "They are coming!" shouts the mine boss. "Stand back and give them room." But the crowd could not stand back. Who were coming? Were all there, or were some left? It was not in human nature to stand back. They must see, and learn the worst at once. Oh, how slowly the cable moved! How terrible was the suspense! A great silence fell upon the waiting people. It was unbroken save by the creaking of the rollers on the slope, the pattering of raindrops, and an occasional hysterical sob. At last the twinkling lights are seen down in the blackness. Then the first car comes in sight; then another, and another, until at last the entire train, with its human freight, has reached the surface. "Stay where you are, men!" commands the mine boss, "Answer to your names as I call them off." The young man's voice rings out sharp and clear as he calls the long roll, beginning, "Adams, Andrews, Apgar," and so on down the alphabet to "Zegler"; and clear and prompt come back the answers, "Here, here, here," of those who have come up from the pit. At last it is finished, and the awful truth is known. Nine men and boys are unaccounted for, and they were not at the foot of the slope when the cruel waters sprang into the great chamber and the last car was drawn up. Nine are down there, alive or dead; and among them are Derrick Sterling, Paul Evert, and Monk Tooley.