“Is that you, my boy? Well, well!” exclaimed the jolly voice of Mr. Havens, and it was filled with pride. “It didn’t take you two boys long to find us, did it?” “And John Peep, the Cheyenne,” returned Chet. “He did more than we.” But when he turned to look at the Indian youth, he was not there. With his lantern he had stolen away the moment he saw through the broken wall that the entombed miners had lamps. “We have been trying to hit that old tunnel you are in, boys, for hours,” pursued Mr. Havens, as the men broke down the barrier between the two mines, and swiftly cleared the earth and rock away. “We knew we could escape through the Crayton shaft if once we could hit the old drift.” “But you couldn’t, Father!” exclaimed Chet eagerly. “Why not, Son?” demanded the gentleman, who still remained back in the darkness while his men worked. “Because the shaft is caved in.” “What’s that?” queried Mr. Havens quickly, and with some anxiety in his tone. “It was all right a week ago, for I saw it.” “Somebody has pried out some of the timbering and caused a cave-in. It’s as bad as the one in our shaft, Father.” “Well! I declare!” “Say! I bet that lame Indian knows who did it,” growled Dig, resting on his pick. “But he won’t tell.” “Then how, for mercy’s sake, did you get down here, will you tell me?” cried Mr. Havens, much astonished. “Through an old bears’ den that John Peep showed us.” “John Peep? That young Indian lad that went to school with you, Chetwood, and was so clever at his books?” “Yes, sir. He was with us until just a minute or two ago. Now he’s gone away—so as not to be thanked, I suppose. He’s a good fellow,” declared Chet confidently. “He surely is a good fellow if he showed you how to get down here to our rescue,” agreed Mr. Havens. “But I must look into this strange cave-in of the Crayton shaft. It’s a most mysterious thing. People don’t go around closing old mines for nothing; unless it’s mischievous boys.” “’Twasn’t me!” denied Dig emphatically. “You’re not the only mischievous young scamp there is in Silver Run,” chuckled Mr. Havens. “Well, boys—how is it? Can we crawl through?” “You come along and try it, Boss. Easy on that foot, now!” said one of the miners solicitously. “Oh, Father! are you hurt?” cried Chet, in sudden anxiety. “Not so much but I shall get over it,” replied Mr. Havens, hobbling through the aperture between the two mines. “Now, Jackson, you’re in charge of the work on this drift. Just as soon as you can get to it from our end, build a bulkhead of heavy timbering across this hole. We don’t want any connection between the two mines.” “All right, sir,” agreed the man spoken to, and who followed Mr. Havens first into the old Crayton mine. “Oh, Father!” exclaimed Chet again, seeing that Mr. Havens’ right foot was bandaged, and that his boot had been cut away; “are you sure you are not badly hurt?”