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Oxenham, John, 1852-1941

"A Maid of the Silver Sea"

They were brawny men, used to leg
and elbow room, and, as a rule, heartily detested anything in the shape
of underground adventure. They might, of course, get over some miners to
explore for them. Or they might content themselves with sitting down on
top of his hole until he was starved out. In any case, his rope was
nearly run; but yet he was not disposed to shorten it by so much as an
inch.
As he wormed his way along the tunnel, the recollection of those other
openings off the dead man's cave came back to him. He would try them. He
pushed on with a spurt of hope.
The tunnel was not nearly so long now that he knew where he was going;
in fact, now that nothing but it stood between him and capture, it
seemed woefully inadequate.
When his head and elbows no longer grazed rock he dropped his coat and
crawled into the chamber. He felt his way round to the dried packages,
and cautiously emptied half-a-dozen and prepared them for his use.
This set him sneezing so violently that it seemed impossible that the
watchers outside should not hear him. It also gave him an idea.


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