The lad retraced his steps, but search as he might he was unable to find the steel rails again. For what seemed hours to him the youthful miner wandered here and there. The fact that he had neither seen nor heard anyone led him to where the work was going on. Steve was beginning to get disheartened. He was thankful that he had his dinner pail with him, in case he failed to find his way out before the day's work was done. At last, however, he reached a drift or level, he did not know which, where he could not stand upright. The rocks overhead had been shored up with heavy timbers. It was a dangerous spot. Steve understood that without being told, so he crawled quickly through. At the far end of the low drift he encountered another ladder. Deciding that it must lead to an upper level, the lad began climbing. He had gotten a little more than half way up when all at once his candle slipped from his hand, falling clear to the bottom, where it went out, leaving Steve in darkness. "Oh, that's too bad. I must get it again before I dare go on any further." Steve hurried down and began searching about on the ground for the lost candle. After a little he found it, but the candle was useless. In tramping about he had crushed it under his heavy boots, flattening the candle out hopelessly. "Only a grease spot," muttered Steve. "Well, I can't be much worse off than I have been, so I am going back up the ladder. I surely must find someone if I keep on hunting about. There are more than five hundred men in this mine right now, and unless they are all hiding from me I am bound to run across some of them. I am afraid I am not much of a success as a miner. At least my first day below ground has been a sad failure so far." Steve was on his way up the ladder once more. It was a long climb, much longer, it seemed to him, than the other ladder had been. He began to climb faster, when all at once he received a shock that wrenched his hands loose from the rungs of the ladder. Before the lad could regain his balance he toppled over backwards and plunged downward. Steve's head had come in contact with the rocks above, that left but a small space for a man to crawl through to reach the upper level. He had bumped his head with such force as to cause him to let go. Grasping frantically for something to stay his flight, the lad went tumbling down. He landed on the ground at the bottom, flat on his back, bruised and breathless. For a moment Steve lay where he had fallen. But shortly he got up, rubbing his bruises gingerly and trying to collect his thoughts. "Tumble number one," muttered Rush. "I'll try it again." This time he met with better success, for he managed to get through the manhole above without striking his head against the rocks. But once on the upper level the question arose as to what to do next. There was the same dense blackness over all, the same deep silence that the lad had found below.