The smoke hung thick and choked them, as they gasped it in in gulps
while they sneezed, and the light had gone out with the concussion.
They lay for a time exhausted. Then the atmosphere cleared somewhat, and
they lay in the thick darkness straining their ears for any sound, but
heard nothing.
"What did you see, Evan Morgan?" whispered Trevna at last.
"It wass a man."
"Then I have killed him, for he does not move. Can you light the lamp?"
"I can not--in here. I am coing out. I haf hat enough of this."
"We must take him out, too."
"You can tek him, then, John Trevna. I haf hat enough of him and this
hole."
"Don't be a fool, Evan Morgan. If it wass a man, and he got that load in
him as close as that, he iss deader than Tom Hamon."
"Well, you can go an' see. I am coing out," and he began to wriggle
backwards, and Trevna was fain to go too.
But presently they came to one of the somewhat wider places where the
wall had fallen away, and Trevna squeezed himself tightly into this.
"You go on, then, Evan Morgan," he said, "if you can get past, and I
will go back and bring him out.
Pages:
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318