"Yes, we will examine them," exclaimed Duplin, resolutely advancing. "Who knows--we may find some trace of _him_ there." With far different sensations than those felt when first the weird sight burst upon their vision, the gold-hunters now examined the row of skeletons. They lay side by side, upon a sloping ledge, which, in the first affright, gave them the appearance of raising to their feet. The friends saw that at least two of the skeletons had been removed from the ghastly row. "They have been placed here with care," muttered Wythe. "See--here are fragments of what was once cloth. The bones look as though covered with skin--as though the flesh had gradually dried away, and the sinews still hold together. That accounts for the perfect skeletons we saw arranged by that rascal--whoever he is." "This dry, rare air may account for that. But we must not forget the duty we owe poor Jack. He is not here." "Come, then. We can follow our mummer, if I mistake not. I think he'll leave a plain trail behind him, if there's any virtue in half-ounce bullets." In a few moments the adventurers were once more in the chamber, and examining the ground round about where the skeleton had fallen. True to their hopes, they found several drops of blood that told plainly their enemy was wounded. "This is the passage," uttered Duplin. "But it seems to lead back the same way we came." "We are all turned round. It _may_, of course, but more likely it continues in the direction we first started in. It is our only chance, at any rate." For half an hour more they crept on, slowly and carefully, knowing that to go astray might result in their destruction. Several branch passages were observed, but close scouting showed them the faint blood-traces, that directed them aright. But then a circumstance occurred that threatened them with disaster. The second torch had burned nearly down to Wythe's fingers, and he paused to light another. Unfortunately he dropped the splinter, and falling, it became extinguished. Blow as he might the sparks refused to blaze up. Impatiently he asked Duplin for a match. To his horror, Paley answered that he had none! Whether he had lost them during the flight or not, it was certain that they were then in the labyrinth, without means to kindle a light. Search as they might, not a match was found. As the significant truth burst upon them in its full force, they seemed like madmen. They raved and cursed until out of breath. Then reason returned. They were only wasting precious strength that might yet be needed to save them from a horrible death. "Come, Duplin," hoarsely muttered Wythe, "we must be men. We need our senses now, if ever. We _must_ find some way out of this. Come--creep forward with me. Try to keep this passage. Perhaps we may succeed--it is our only hope." "A slim one," and Duplin smothered back a curse. "I begin to believe that that prediction will come true--that this hole is our _grave_!"