"And good families can have--can have accidents, too." There could be no answer to that. Nor did Val feel like answering. The savage pain in his legs and back had given way to a kind of numbness. A chill not caused by the dank air crawled up his body. What--what if his injuries were worse than he had thought? What if--if-- The dripping of the water seemed louder, and it no longer fell with the same rhythm. Ricky must be counting money from the bag. He could hear the clink of metal against stone as she dropped a piece. "Don't lose it," he muttered foggily. "Lose what?" "Your pieces of eight." "What do you mean?" "You just dropped a piece." "I haven't touched--Val, do--do you feel worse?" But he had no thought now for his body. If Ricky had not dropped the money, then what had caused the clink? He ground his cheek against the clay. _Thud, thud, clink, thud._ That was not water dripping nor coin rattling. That was the sound of digging. And digging meant-- "Ricky! They're digging! I can hear them!" Her fingers closed about his free hand until the nails dug into the flesh. "Where?" "I don't know. Listen!" The sound had grown in strength until now, though muffled, it sounded through that part of the passage still remaining open. "It comes from this end. From behind that wall. But why should it come from there?" "Does it matter? Val, do you suppose they could hear me if I pounded on the wall at this side?" "You haven't anything heavy enough to pound with." "Yes, I have. This package thing that you found. It's quite heavy. Val, we've got to let them know we're here!" She crawled away, moving with caution lest she bring on another slide. That reassuring _thud, thud_ still sounded. Then, after long minutes, Val heard the answering blow from their side. Three times Ricky struck before the rhythm of the digging was broken. Then there was silence followed by three sharp blows. They had heard! Ricky beat a perfect tattoo in joy and was quickly answered. Then the _thud, thud_ began again, but this time the pace was quickened. "They've heard! They're coming!" Ricky's voice shrilled until it became a scream. "Val, we're found!" A clod was loosened somewhere above them and crashed upon the wreckage. Would the efforts of their rescuers bring on another slide? "Be quiet, Ricky," Val croaked a warning, "it's still moving." Then there came the sharp clink of metal against stone. "Val," called Ricky, "they're right against the wall now!" "Come back here, away from it. We--we don't want you caught, too," he answered her. Obediently she crawled back to him and again he felt her hand close about his. The sound of metal grating against stubborn brick filled their pocket of safety. But as an ominous accompaniment came the soft hiss of earth sliding onto the wreckage. Which would win to them first, the rescuers or the second slide?