The air was foul and damp, and there were stagnant pools of water in places suggestive of diseases of horrible sort. The companionship of the skeletons of former victims was not of the pleasantest. Crawling into the driest places of the mine passages, Frank and Barney sank down quite overcome. “Well, Barney,” said the young inventor, ruefully, “this is rather a bad outlook for us.” “Bejabers, I should say so,” exclaimed the Celt in despair. “Shure I’m thinkin’ we’ll be afther dyin’ in this place.” “I fear so.” “But shure there’s no sure thing but that rescue might cum yet.” “It is hardly likely.” “But it might, Misther Frank.” “It might, but I have no belief that it will. We have only Pomp to search for us, and he would never find this shaft. Even if he found it he would never suspect that we were at the bottom of it.” There was logic in this. Their case seemed certainly a hopeless and dreary one. There seemed nothing left to them but calm resignation to their fate. But the indefatigable Barney would not give up. “Shure, I wish I cud foind a way to cloimb out av the place,” he muttered. He crawled to the mouth of the shaft and looked up. As he did so an exclamation escaped his lips. It was at sight of a passage leading out of the pit and into the bowels of the earth at a point some thirty feet above. It was presumably an upper level of the mine. This discovery brought Frank to the spot. It required some careful study in the gloom to decide whether this really was a passage or not. It looked like a dark patch against the side of the shaft. But finally the two prisoners decided that it was the passage of an upper level. With this discovery came the thought that by it escape might be made from the mine. It was a forlorn hope, yet the prisoners embraced it fervidly. “But how will we get up there?” asked Frank. “I can’t see how it is to be done myself.” “Bejabers, that’s so,” said Barney, ruefully. “Shure, it’s a bit av a ways up there. Av I was to sthand on yure shoulders, shure I cudn’t reach it.” “No,” replied Frank. Then his eye caught sight of the rope which had been thrown into the pit after them. He picked it up. Just over the passage of the upper level a cross beam was visible. “Here, Barney!” said Frank, handing the rope to the Celt. “You have learned the trick of throwing the lasso.” The Celt’s eyes danced. “Shure an’ I have that, Misther Frank!” he cried. “An’ I’ve not forgotten it aither.” Barney coiled the long rope carefully and made a turn about a small stone to give it increased weight. Then he steadied himself and flung it up into the air. Up, up it went, uncurling as it rose and high above the beam. But the next moment it came tumbling again down into the pit. “I missed it that toime,” said Barney, in disgust, “but I’ll not do that again ye may be shure.” Once again Barney made the cast. This time the rope went over the beam.