The further Frank went along the cavern wall, the more fearful he became that he would not be able to find Barney again.

This was most dismaying and the young inventor’s heart sank.

But he set his lips firmly.

“I must find him,” he muttered, resolutely. “Separation will be fatal.”

In vain he called.

No answer came back.

The Celt, wherever he was, was certainly beyond hearing.

In this quandary and a state of mind most indescribable, Frank strove to make his way along in the darkness.

He kept on, at intervals shouting for his companion.

But ever that same oppressive death-like stillness reigned.

Finally Frank was forced to abandon all hope of finding Barney.

He next turned his attention to the problem of finding his way out of the place himself.

Once he should succeed in doing this and in joining his friends there was no doubt but that he could devise a way to return and make a successful quest for Barney.

With this resolution uppermost in his breast he kept on.

Suddenly a strange sound burst upon his hearing.

It was a distant sound like the mumbling of voices and gave Frank a queer thrill of comprehension.

In an instant he realized that he had reached a point in close proximity to those who were searching for him.

With this belief Frank cautiously came to a halt.

As he did so he heard a slight crunching noise in his rear.

Involuntarily he turned about.

The next moment he felt a clutch upon his shoulder and then talon fingers closed about his windpipe.

Not a word did his assailant speak. Who or what he was Frank could only conjecture.

Naturally he believed him to be one of the greasers.

But if this was the case, somewhat singularly the fellow made no effort to cry out for his companions.

His purpose seemed to overcome Frank without an outcry.

But the young inventor had no idea of submitting without a struggle.

He grappled with him and a struggle followed which baffles description.

Backward and forward they swayed and reeled. Now one held the advantage and now the other.

In this manner the struggle continued for some time.

In vain Frank tried to throw his adversary.

“Who are you?” he finally panted, nigh overcome with exertion.

“That’s nothin’ to you,” gritted the other, huskily. “I’m after yer scalp an’ I’m goin’ ter have it.”

“Not if I can prevent,” retorted Frank.

“Ye can’t help yerself.”

“Perhaps not.”

“Ye’d better give in at onct. If ye’ll surrender now I’ll spare yer life an’ take ye down to Costello.”

“I have no intention of surrendering to you.”

“Ye don’t, eh?”

“No.”

“Curse ye, then I’ll kill ye!”

“If you can.”

“Wall, I kin.”

“Look here!” said Frank, sharply. “I want to know what sort of a chap you are. I can tell by your talk that you are not a greaser.”

The fellow laughed.

“In course I ain’t,” he replied. “But what of that?”

“Well, you must be a miserable wretch to mix up with them.”

“That’s nothin’ to you.”

“Of course not. Yet I would give one of my own countrymen credit for better sense than that.”

“Wall, I don’t ax any odds of you nor nobody else. Let go of my wrist or I’ll stick this knife atwixt yer ribs.”

“I have no idea of it.”

“Ye haven’t, eh?”

“No.”

“Wall, I’ll show ye.”

With a curse the villain strove to carry out his threat; but Frank hung on to his grip well.

Backward and forward they swayed in a severe test of muscular strength.

Frank Reade, Jr., was not a heavy man, but extremely quick and muscular. He managed to hold his own.

Suddenly voices were heard in the distance, and lights flashed.

Frank knew at once that the greasers were coming that way, and he understood well the result.

If they should come up while in struggle thus, his fate would be sealed.

They would no doubt kill him on the spot.

This filled him with desperate resolution, and he made a reckless attempt to end the struggle then and there.

Exerting all his strength, he swung his adversary against the wall of the passage.

With such force did the villain strike the wall that he was for a moment stunned.

It was Frank’s chance.

Quick as a flash he severed his hold with the foe and darted away in the darkness.

When the fellow recovered an instant later, his would-be victim was missing.

His wrath is not easily depicted in words or with the pen.

Yelling oaths and fierce imprecations he started in pursuit.

But Frank had got a good start, and went flying down the dark shaft like a meteor.

On he kept at full speed, taking the chances of falling into a hole.

In a few moments he had distanced his pursuer. He came to a halt somewhat out of breath.

There was no doubt but that the villain had taken another corridor and was far astray.

The lights and the sound of voices had disappeared.

For the nonce Frank knew that he was safe, and he felt relieved.

He sank down upon the damp floor of the mine passage to recover his breath and strength.

Every muscle in his body was aching from his experience with the villain.

It had been a hard tussle and he came off victorious only at a great expense of muscular power.

For some moments Frank rested in this manner.

Then he once more regained his feet.

He knew the great importance of escaping from the place. He thought of Barney, and at that moment a singular sound came to his hearing.

It was like the yawn of a waking person. The next moment a familiar voice in a muttering key broke the air:

“Bejabers, I’ve been ashleep, an’ more’s the shame to me. Phwativer will Misther Frank think, whin I tell him of it? But shure I was that tired I could niver kape me eyes open at all, at all.”

Frank gave a start of joy.

How familiar were those tones to him. It was Barney.

Impulsively he cried:

“Hullo, Barney! Thank Heaven we are reunited.”

“Misther Frank!” cried the Celt, with wildest joy. “Shure is that yez, sor?”

“It’s nobody else.”

“Begorra, I’m that glad to see yez that I cud sthand on me head.”

The next moment the faithful Celt was by Frank’s side, wringing his hand.

That was an affectionate meeting between master and servant.

One was scarcely less glad than the other. Both were overjoyed.

Then they recounted experiences.

It seemed that Barney had wandered into another passage and completely lost his way.

The thickness of the separate walls had prevented Frank’s voice from reaching him or his voice from reaching Frank.

However, they had been brought together again by good fortune.

It was now determined not to get into another such a scrape.

“Bejabers, I’ll kape close enough to yez now, Misther Frank,“declared Barney, vigorously. “Not a minnit will I lave yez, shure.”

“It will be the safest way,” agreed Frank. “We will have to look sharp to avoid the foe. Ah!”

The exclamation was caused by the distant flashing of a light.

“They are coming this way,” cried Frank, hurriedly.

“Shure ye’re right sor.”

“We must get out of the way.”

“Begorra, it’s roight yez are.”

“Come on!”

“I’ll folly yez, sor.”

Frank darted into another passage and Barney followed him.

Suddenly, as they were forging along, light was seen ahead.

“What is it?” cried Frank. “As I live I believe it is daylight!”

“Bejabers, sor, it’s not the roight color for that!” cried Barney.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Shure, it’s back into the main mine we be comin’, sor.”

It was certainly a fact that at last they had found their way into a passage leading into the main body of the mine.

Imbued with new hope, Frank kept on at a rapid pace.

Soon the light grew stronger, and they became certain that they were coming back to the very point they had started from.

Nearer every moment they drew to the entrance to the shaft.

Nothing was seen or heard of the greasers now. They were doubtless exploring the passages yet in pursuit of the fugitives.

“Shure, it’s a nice slip we gave them intoirely,” declared Barney, with a chuckle.

“You are right,” agreed Frank. “Now, if fortune favors us, we will be able to escape from this den.”

“Shure, I hope so, sor.”

At length they reached the end of the passage and once more came out into the gallery of the mine.

There were none of the greasers in the gallery, but venturing to look down into the pit below Frank saw that there were fully as many of them yet gathered about the fire.

It was now a serious question as to what it was best to do.

To attempt to pass through the main part of the mine unobserved was utterly out of the question.

They would be sure to be spotted by the foe, but Frank had decided upon a move and started to creep along down the gallery, when a startling thing occurred.

Frank heard a rasping sound almost at his shoulder and then a whisper came, shrill and clear:

“Whist! are you friends to me?”

Frank turned with utter amazement.