“I kin try—and that’s what I’m doin’,” the mine boss said huskily. “Thirty foot of the bottom of the shaft’s caved in. It’s caved from all four sides. We’re diggin’ out the earth and rubbage and sendin’ it up by the bucket-load. Fast as we kin, we’re replacin’ the timbering. That’s the best we can do.” Chet had a quick mind and he knew a good deal about such accidents, although there had been nothing like this at the Silent Sue since he could remember. “You can’t work a big gang in the shaft, Rafe,” he said anxiously. “How long will it take ’em to get down to the bottom and into the side tunnels?” “I dunno, boy, I dunno,” the old man said, plainly worried. “But we’re workin’ jest as fast as ever we can. I’m shiftin’ the men ev’ry two hours and they’re all puttin’ in their very best licks.” “You haven’t heard—heard from fa-father?” gasped Chet, trying to control his voice. “Golly! No, boy!” exclaimed the mine boss. “Thar’s thirty foot of rubbage, I tell yer, at the bottom of the shaft. If they was hollerin’ their heads off we wouldn’t hear ’em yet. The fall of earth and stuff is packed like iron.” “Oh, it’ll be all right, Chet! It’ll be all right,” urged his chum, who had come up after hitching the two mustangs. Dig’s father had not as yet arrived. Nobody seemed to have much head about him but old Rafe. But perhaps nobody could do much. Chet stared at his chum and the mine boss hopelessly. “Why, see!” he gasped. “It may be a week before you can clear the bottom of that shaft—it may be longer! What will father—and the others—do all that time? Oh, Dig! it’s awful—it’s _awful_! They’ll starve to death!” “Whew! I hadn’t thought of that,” muttered Digby Fordham. Old Rafe Peters shook his head. He was keeping his eyes on the buckets of “rubbage,” as he called it, that were being swiftly brought to the surface by the steam winch. He had excavated the lower end of the shaft himself and he knew the strata of earth through which it passed. By the colour of that which came up in the buckets, he knew the diggers had not gone far as yet. One bucket went down as the other came up. It was not down three minutes before the signal rang for it to be hoisted again. But thousands upon thousands of buckets of debris would have to be hoisted out of the shaft ere the way would be opened into tunnel Number Two, lower level, in which Mr. Havens and the miners were entombed. CHAPTER III—THE LAME INDIAN The five men shut in the mine with Chet’s father were all married and their wives and children made the noisiest group of all at the mouth of the Silent Sue mine. The rough men standing about tried to comfort them; but there was not much of a comforting nature to say.