Come on!"
Bennington, who had up to this time remained seated on the pile of
stones, seemed filled with a new and great excitement. He tottered to
his feet, throwing his hands aloft.
"Thank God! Thank God!" he cried, catching his breath convulsively.
Fay turned to look at him curiously. "We aren't that much out of the
woods," he remarked; "the other gang'll get in their work, don't you
fret."
"They never will, they never will!" cried the Easterner exultantly.
"They can't. We'll locate 'em all!" The tears welled over his eyes and
ran down his cheeks.
"What do you mean?" asked Fay, beginning to fear the excitement had
unsettled his companion's wits.
"Because they're there!" cried Bennington, pointing to the mouth of the
shaft near which he had been sitting. "Davidson, Slayton,
Arthur--they're all there, and they can't get away! I didn't know what
else to do. I had to do something!"
Fay cast an understanding glance at the young man's rifle, and sprang
to the entrance of the shaft. As though in direct corroboration of his
speech, Fay could perceive, just emerging from the shadow, the sinister
figure of the man Arthur creeping cautiously up the ladder, evidently
encouraged to an attempt to escape by the sound of the conversation
above.
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