timbers, and dirt must have knocked 

 me to the ground. 



As it was, I landed sprawling in the 

 snow outside, sweeping the lean woman 

 down with me. It was very like a dime 

 novel. Three lone women who, for 

 purposes of intensification, may be 

 called enemies, staring with white faces 

 at a wall of dirt, and trying to realise 

 that a minute before it had been a black 

 hole. And at the other end of that 

 hole now were two men horribly im- 

 prisoned in a rock-walled tomb with- 

 out air or food, perhaps dead. We 

 could not tell how much of a cave-in 

 it was. 



The lean woman rushed for Mrs. 

 Kansas* horse and wagon and went to 

 alarm the hamlet. I dashed up the hill 

 a quarter of a mile to awaken the night 

 shift, who were in their cabin sleeping. 



