In the meantime the men were ripping up the planks. Several of these they lashed together and let carefully down over the edge of the platform, or what was left of it. They had made ropes fast at both ends, in order that the raft might make a landing platform. "Now you men let me down," commanded the superintendent. "You had better let me go, sir," advised the mine captain. "I am lighter than you." "It's my place to go; do as I tell you. While I am down there rig a sling to pull us up on. Jim, you take charge of the operations at this end and see that there is no slip anywhere." "I will, sir," answered the mine captain. Superintendent Penton grasped the rope that had been made fast to a shore post on the sub-level and let himself down. He was a strong man, used to emergencies and well able to take care of himself anywhere in the mine. Shortly afterwards he was standing on the platform or raft below, steadying himself by holding to the rope and the side wall. "Are you all right, Bob?" he shouted. "Yes." "If he happens to get into a drift, they're both lost. Pass down some candles from above, Jim." Several were let down on a rope and these Mr. Penton stuck into the wall, lighting up the scene fairly well. "They're calling you, sir," cried Jim. "What is it?" roared the superintendent. "I've got him." It was Jarvis' voice, and Mr. Penton breathed a sigh of relief. CHAPTER XXIII A THOUSAND FEET OF LADDERS After what seemed an endless wait, the watchers heard a great splashing far out on the water. It was Jarvis paddling toward the raft. He had found Steve, the latter unconscious. Just as Bob reached the plank on which the other boy was hanging Steve slipped off into the water. Bob dived for his chum without an instant's hesitation and when he came up he was gripping the half-drowned Steve. The latter had relapsed into unconsciousness. By this time the plank had floated away several yards. Bob had a hard struggle to reach it, but at last he succeeded, and after great effort managed to place Rush partly on it, so the latter's head would be out of water. Bob pulled himself upon one end of the plank, so that the other end would be clear of the water, and began paddling. The water fairly flew under his efforts, the swimmer now and then using his feet to help steer the awkward craft. "I can't see the light. Where are you?" Jarvis cried. "Here!" shouted Mr. Penton. A bend in the rocky wall hid the light of the candles from the raft. After several minutes of paddling Bob caught the faint light ahead of him. "I'm all right now, if Steve is only all right." "Is he alive?" called Mr. Penton, as he made out the strange craft bearing slowly down upon him. "Yes, but he's unconscious." "Then hurry as fast as you can." "I am hurrying. This isn't a speed boat." The plank drew up alongside the raft after some difficult manoeuvring on the part of Bob Jarvis. Mr. Penton grasped the limp form of Steve Rush, hauling him to the raft.