He had made a rough loop for his foot, and they passed him down a crowbar at the end of a cord. With this he attacked the hole in the wall, but found himself engaged in an impossible task. Nothing short of an explosive could blow these holes larger. He was almost exhausted by his efforts, and they had to haul him to the top for a rest. Puttler was anxious to go down, but Dick insisted upon being lowered again. This time he took with him a rod, to the end of which a small electric bulb had been attached. The flex ran along the rod, which was a bamboo cane, and terminated in a small battery in his pocket. He switched on the light and pushed the bulb through the opening. He could see now that the wall, which he thought was natural rock, had been roughly hewn, but he could not see the floor nor more than a foot in either direction. Withdrawing the rod, he put in his hand and felt around, but could touch nothing but the outer facing of the well. “Look out!” The warning shout was Gilder’s and came from above. He drew out his hand quickly. “Away from the wall--push with your feet!” yelled Gilder. He had a glimpse of a grimy hand thrust out from one of the square air holes, saw the flicker of steel and felt the rope giving as strand after strand was slashed. Then, with a crack, the rope parted, and he went down, down, until the bitterly cold waters engulfed him. He struck the bottom with his feet and paddled up to the surface again. He was instantly chilled to the marrow. He saw the lantern come down toward him, and heard Gilder say: “Hold to the cord just enough to keep you afloat.” Dumbly he obeyed. His eyes were fixed on the airhole. So, too, were the eyes of Puttler, who, flat on the ground, his head and shoulders over the edge, covered with his revolver the place where the hand had emerged. The cut end of the rope was passed down to him. By reaching up he could just grip it, but not sufficiently to obtain a sure purchase. Cramp had attacked his legs. The paralyzing coldness of the water was astounding, and in one moment of fear it seemed that his life was to end miserably in this dark hole. There was no foothold on either side, and unless help came quickly he knew he could no longer keep his senses. Almost within reach was the lowest of the small apertures, but it did not seem worth while to reach for that. The cord of the lantern served to keep him afloat, the warmth of the burning wick was the only comfort he had. “Dick!” He heard his name whispered with a fierce intensity. “Dick, take my hand!” It came out of the lower air hole, and with an effort he reached and found his wrist gripped. And then his senses left him. When he came to himself he was lying in the open air. The warmth of the sun’s rays made him sleepy. “Where is Leslie?” he asked, struggling up on his elbow. They looked at him blankly, thinking that he was in a delirium. “How did I get out?” “Gilder went down for you when he saw you drop.”