CHAPTER VI
THROUGH TUNNELS OF FLAME
STEVE waited not a moment.
"Keep working, men!" he shouted, starting away at top speed.
"Come back!" yelled Jarvis. "You'll be blown to death."
"We'll all be blown to death if someone doesn't stop the fire before itgets to the powder room."
"Then I'm going with you," answered Bob Jarvis, following after hiscompanion at top speed. "It isn't any worse for me than it is for you."
"Stay back there and handle the men!" flung back Steve over hisshoulder.
Bob paid no attention to the command. He was running at full speed inorder to keep up with his companion, for Steve, with a handkerchiefstuffed in his mouth, was running on the toes of his heavy shoes,darting in and out of drifts, making sharp detours to get around aburning spot that was too hot to be passed with safety.
"Keep shouting, or I'll lose you," cried Bob.
"I can't! I'll choke!" was the faint answer.
On raced the two boys, Bob gaining on Steve very slowly, struggle as hemight to decrease the other's lead.
"We're too late!" groaned Jarvis, as the lads came to a sudden halt.Before them the flames were crackling viciously in the dry woodwork ofthe drift leading into the earth for some sixty yards, where the powderroom was located. "Get out of here, or we'll be blown to smithereens!"
"Bob, we've _got to_ find some way to save the magazine. Think what itwill mean if we do not! Why, it will wreck the whole mine and thechances are that not a man of all the crew will get out alive."
"Yes, but how are we going to do it?"
Steve stood thoughtful for a moment, while second by second the flameswere eating farther and farther into the drift, drawing nearer andnearer to the deadly stuff that was piled in cases behind the woodenpartition that stood in the drift beyond the flames just around thebend.
"I'm going through," announced Steve firmly.
"You are not going to try to get through that burning drift, are you?"
"That's exactly what I am going to do. It's our only hope, old man.We're surely doomed if I don't. If I fail then I shall have done mybest. Take off your shirt."
"What for?"
"Because I want to use it."
"Why don't you take off your own?"
"That is exactly what I am going to do," answered the lad, proceeding tostrip off the garment. "Be quick! We've no time to lose."
Bob began reluctantly to remove his own shirt, which he tossed to Steve.
"Now, what are you going to do?"
Rush did not answer. He began wrapping the two shirts about his head,having first made slits in one of them through which he could see. Bothgarments were finally twisted about his head until the latter lookedseveral times its natural size.
"Now I want you to stick right here. If I am overcome you'll have to tryyour best to get me out."
"Yes; I'll be in nice shape to go after you. I'll singe the skin all offmy body if I try it. You get out the best way you can, but, mind you, ifthat fire creeps much closer to the magazine you'll see me making alively sprint for a safe place."
"There will be no safe place in the mine if that happens, Bob. I guessyou won't run."
"No, I guess I won't, at that," admitted the lad. "What are you going todo when you get in there?"
"I am going to try to block the passage so the fire can't get to themagazine. I can't do any less than fail. I will shout if I get safelythrough the fire; then you will know that I am all right. Good-bye, Bob,if I do not see you again. In case anything happens to me, try to getthe men as far away as possible before the blow-up occurs."
Steve Rush bravely bolted into the tunnel of fire. There was fire abovehis head, sparks falling in a perfect cataract about him, while thedrift was full of suffocating smoke.
Bob stood with head bent forward in a listening attitude, apparentlyunmindful of the shower of burning cinders that fell over him. His wholeattention was centred on listening for the call that would signal SteveRush's safe arrival on the other side of the fire.
It came at last.
"Who-o-o-o-o-p!"
"He's made it!" breathed Bob, with a deep sigh of relief. "I wonder whathe is going to try to do? I ought to be in there with him, instead ofstanding out here doing nothing."
In the meantime Steve, having penetrated beyond the fire zone, made hisway quickly to the wooden partition behind which lay the boxes of highexplosives. He gave the door a sharp push, but it did not yield.
"It is locked!" groaned the boy. "I've got to get in there, I've got todo it or we are all lost!"
The fire was by this time less than fifty feet behind him, creepingalong toward the powder room at a rapid rate.
Steve backed off and threw himself against the door with all hisstrength. But the door did not move.
Once more did the lad try to break the door in, the rough wood tearingthe skin from his shoulders, sending the blood trickling down his sidesin tiny rivulets.
Bang!
He hurled himself against the door for the sixth time. The door gave waywith surprising suddenness. Steve Rush plunged headlong into themagazine and went down, entangled in the wreck of the splintered door.
Following his sudden entry into the powder room there came a successionof crashes. At first he thought the dynamite was exploding and the boyclenched his hands to meet the great shock that he felt sure would comeshortly.
It did not come. Steve suddenly realized that the dynamite was not goingto explode just yet; what he had heard was the falling of some of thedynamite cases to the floor, following the shock of the bursting in ofthe door.
"What a fool I am," cried the lad, starting to get to his feet.
It was then that he made the discovery that he had taken part of thepartition down with him and that he was so entangled in the wreck thathe would have difficulty in extricating himself. Every second the firewas drawing nearer the magazine. Steve fought as he never had foughtbefore. Seconds seemed hours to him, and the crackling of the flamesseemed to be about his very ears. The more he struggled the tighter heseemed to be wedging himself under the timbers and planking that he hadcarried down with him.
With a mighty effort and in sheer desperation the lad lifted the weightwith his body. Then by a quick wriggle he managed to squirm from beneaththe planking, clearing all but his feet. These were again caught. Theywould surely have been crushed had it not been for his heavy shoes.
But now the boy's hands were free, thus enabling him to use them inliberating himself. After a struggle of a few moments he succeeded ingetting from under the partition and sprang to his feet.
The electric lights were glowing in the magazine, the circuit not yethaving been broken.
At a bound the Iron Boy leaped to the far side of the magazine. From abox on a shelf he selected half a dozen white, paper-covered objects,somewhat resembling wrapped candles, except that they were larger.
This done, Steve whipped out his knife and cut the electric feed wirethat led into the magazine. In doing so he got a shock that nearlyknocked him down.
"Gracious, but that wire is hot!" he exclaimed, shaking his hand torestore the circulation. "It never seemed so hot as that before.Everything is hot down here to-day, and I shall be in the same conditionif I do not make lively tracks out of here."
Running from the wrecked powder room, the lad sprang down the drift,running straight toward the fire again. As yet he had not replaced theshirts about his head, for he was not yet ready to plunge into the fierytunnel. The main purpose of his going to the powder room had not yetbeen carried out.
Reaching a point some twenty feet from the edge of the fire, the ladthrust one of the sticks into a crevice in the rocks. One after anotherhe distributed the sticks in various places, some of them being wedgedbehind the lagging that supported the drift.
After a few seconds he had distributed them all, forming a line that thefire would be sure to touch before it co
uld get by to reach themagazine.
Steve could hear Jarvis calling to him now. Perhaps Bob had been doingso right along, but if so, Rush had been so occupied with his task thathe had not heard.
"Wh-o-o-p-e-e!" answered the plucky lad. "I'm coming. Look out for me."
Taking a final survey of his work, Steve turned toward the fire again.
"Getting out of here is going to be more difficult than getting in," hedecided. "I shall be well singed by the time I get through that wall offire."
Wrapping the shirts about his head, Steve dived into the fiery tunnel,holding his breath as he ran.
The heat was terrific. He could feel it burning through his trousers,and he could smell the burning cloth about his head. He had thrust hishands into his trousers' pockets, which afforded some protection.
Suddenly he stumbled over a timber that had fallen from its supports andmeasured his length on the ground. As he fell he uttered a shout.
The fall stunned him, for the boy struck on his head. Bob, however, hadheard the cry. Regardless of the fact that neither his head nor his bodywas protected, Jarvis dashed boldly into the burning drift. He knew theskin was peeling from his arms, but he did not experience any sensationof pain.
All at once he, too, stumbled and fell in a heap with a deluge ofburning embers and live sparks showering about him. But Bob was notstunned. He was very much alive at this particular moment, for herealized for the first time that unless he moved rapidly he would beburned alive.
Just then he felt the object over which he had fallen move.
"Steve! Steve! Is that you?" cried Jarvis.
"Ye-yes."
Bob fastened on him with a powerful grip, and began dragging Rush fromthe fire, first having stripped off one of the burning shirts.
Steve regained control of himself almost instantly.
"Let go! Run for it! Something is going to happen!" he shouted.
But Jarvis did not let go. He ran faster than ever, holding firmly tohis companion. Perhaps he was beginning to understand what Steveexpected to happen. At least he was making all the speed possible underthe circumstances.
Both boys drew in a long breath as they flattened themselves on theground, well free of the fire zone.
Steve bounded to his feet.
"Run for your life!" he shouted.
"Is the magazine going up?" cried Bob.
"Something is going up in a minute. It may be the magazine."
This time Rush grabbed Bob, starting on a run with him. Both boys werechoking from the smoke they were inhaling.
"You're on fire!" yelled Jarvis. "Stop! I'll put it out."
"No, no, no! Keep going. Don't stop. It won't hurt me to burn a little.I'm already pretty well cooked--"
Boom!
A reverberating report sounded through the level, and the Iron Boys werehurled violently to the ground.
The Iron Boys as Foremen; or, Heading the Diamond Drill Shift Page 6