It had been, however, many, many years since there had been a particle of moisture in this cavern. There was a good current of air, and it was dry. All this the white boys discovered when they reached the end of the rope and stood beside the Indian, Chet turned almost immediately to the cavity into the mining tunnel. It had been recently dug, without a doubt, for there were bright scales of quartz rock lying about and a pile of freshly excavated earth. “Whew!” muttered Dig in Chet’s ear. “I’d really like to know who did this, wouldn’t you?” “It wasn’t my father, I’ll be bound,” responded Chet, in the same tone. “There must be somebody interested in the old Crayton diggings besides him. Hush!” John Peep came back to them. He brought a pick and shovel from some hiding place in the darker end of the cavern. To all appearances they were new implements. “White boys want to dig into other mine,” he said briefly. “You come. I show.” “Heap good,” grunted Dig, with a grin. But the Indian paid him no attention, merely handing him the shovel, while he gave the pickaxe to Chet. Then he stooped to crawl into the newly-excavated passage. Dig looked at Chet and scratched his head. “What gets my goat,” he muttered, “is how that redskin talks one minute like a college professor and the next like Poor Lo with his face painted and a dirty blanket trailing at his heels. What do you think of him, anyway?” “I think he has saved the lives of father and the men with him,” replied Chet earnestly. “Come on, Dig! We’re going to get them out.” Only a thin shell of earth and rock separated the bottom of the shaft down which the trio had come from the old mining tunnel. Whoever had burst the wall through must have known just where the tunnel lay and must have been aware of its nearness to the ancient watercourse. The loose earth was dropping in this short passage; but the drift from the Crayton shaft was well timbered with hewn oak. A single wide plank had been knocked out of the shoring to make an entrance into the tunnel. Down here in the heart of the mountain the planking had neither rotted nor become dry and punky. The timbers all seemed just as good as when the miners had put them in. “Come on, Dig!” repeated Chet, hurrying along the tunnel. “We can’t get them out any too quickly.” “Where are you going to dig?” queried his chum. “Right at the end, of course. Father said he thought the Number Two tunnel of the Silent Sue passed by the end of this drift.” John Peep said nothing, but held the lantern and let Chet and Dig take the lead. They came to the end of the old passage after walking some distance. Here some recent excavating had undoubtedly been done. There was no rubbish in the way and they could attack at once the end wall. The roof of the tunnel was a great slab of rock. The old method of “timbering in square sets” had been used in the Crayton claim, and the square cribs, filled with waste rock, upheld the roof of these workings.