“Bad cess to the omadhouns!” he muttered. “I wud jest loike a chance fer to git a whack at them greasers wid a good shillelah. I’d vinture to clane out the lot av thim alone.” “You will hardly get the chance, Barney,” said Frank, lugubriously. “I fear that we are done for.” “Bejabers, thin, I’ll cum back an’ haunt the omadhouns, that I will!” cried Barney, angrily. But now they reached the bottom of the pit. Only a faint light could be seen overhead, and all was dense gloom. Gradually, however, as their eyes became accustomed to the shadows, they were able to distinguish objects within reach. No sooner had they struck the bottom of the shaft, than the rope came tumbling down after them. What a terrible position was theirs! One thousand feet below the earth’s surface, at the bottom of a mining shaft. They were literally buried alive. Frank groaned in the bitterness of the realization. “My soul!” he muttered, “this is the end of all. We shall never be rescued from here.” “But perhaps we can escape,” ventured Barney. “How?” Ah, that was the question and it was not an easy one to answer. How could they hope to scale the smooth walls of that shaft? It was plainly impossible. The thought was at once dismissed. Frank suddenly recoiled with a cry of horror. A bleaching skeleton lay at his feet. There were others near, remains of former victims. This taught the two buried men plainer than words that it was useless to attempt the finding of another outlet to the labyrinth passages leading from the main shaft into the bowels of the earth. Hope was abandoned and both sank down in mute despair. They had but to await death. It was certain, inevitable, and the sooner it came the sooner they would be spared the suffering and misery of their awful fate, more awful than words can express. CHAPTER IX. POMP’S ADVENTURES. Pomp, left alone with the Steam Man, was in a by no means easy frame of mind. The darky had a singular foreboding that no good would come of the expedition of Frank and Barney. “I jes’ finks dey oughter hab stayed yer,” he muttered, “but, ob co’se, it was no manner ob use fo’ me to tell Frank Reade, Jr., dat.” Time passed, and the darky looked anxiously for the return of his friends. But, for reasons well known to the reader, they came not. Finally the shadows of night began to settle down thick and fast, and Pomp grew very nervous. “Golly, I jes’ wish dey would hab some little respect fo’ dis chile’s feelin’s an’ come back,” he muttered. At length Pomp’s attention was claimed by a thrilling sight. Down the mountain side he suddenly saw two huge grizzlies advancing. They had evidently sighted the Steam Man, and were coming directly for it. Without doubt they were wondering in their bear minds what manner of intruder this was, and had come down the mountain to investigate. Pomp watched them with some degree of interest.