“The lamp, Darry!” gasped Frank.

“I—I—it slipped from my hand!” returned the frightened boy. “Oh, what shall we do now?”

Frank leaned over the opening and looked down. The lamp had disappeared into a pool of black water and could no longer be located. All was pitch-dark around them.

“I should have kept it fastened to me,” wailed Darry Field. “Then it couldn’t have dropped into this hole.”

“Have you a candle with you?” questioned Frank.

“I have not. I meant to bring one, too, but it slipped my mind.”

“And I did the same,” said our hero. “We are in a pickle truly. All I have are half a dozen matches.”

“I’ve got four matches,” said Darry, feeling in his pocket. “But they won’t last very long.”

“Don’t move around in the dark. You may go into one of the holes. I’ve got a newspaper. I’ll make some tapers from it.”

Frank was as good as his word, and as soon as he had rolled a dozen long tapers, he struck a match and lit one.

The light was feeble, yet it was a great deal better than nothing. By its aid they retraced their steps for several rods.

“If we could only find a dry stick of wood we might use it for a torch,” suggested our hero.

“I saw some sticks away back—let us hunt for them.”

This suggestion was carried out, and just as the last taper was used up a stick that looked as if it might burn was located. Then Frank lit the rest of the newspaper and coaxed the stick into burning. But the light at the best was a feeble one, and he had to keep blowing the fire to keep it from going out.

“You had better lead the way to daylight as quickly as you can, Darry. This torch won’t last over ten minutes.”

“All right; come on,” answered Darry Field. He was greatly frightened and set off at a dog-trot.

It was the fright of the lad which was their undoing. He made one false turn and then another, and finally came to a halt before a solid wall of stone and coal.

“This can’t be the way out,” came from Frank.

“I—I know it. I’ve made a mistake!”

“Then let us go back, and be quick about it. The torch is almost out!”

They turned back, and presently came to where there were four tunnels, or cuts, each leading in a different direction.

“Now, which is the right one, Darry?”

The boy looked from one to another in bewilderment.

“I—I don’t know. Oh, Mr. Hardy, I guess we are lost!” he wailed.

“Lost!” echoed Frank, and his heart sank within him. He knew that many a person had lost his life by being lost in a mine.

The torch was now reaching its end and in a moment more it flickered up for the last time and went out. Again they were in total darkness, and now Frank felt himself clutched tightly by his younger companion.

“Oh, Mr. Hardy, Frank! Don’t leave me!”

“I won’t leave you, Darry. But can’t you think which is the right way out?”

“I think this way straight in front of us, but I am not sure.”

“Have you any paper at all in your pocket?”

“Yes, the paper they gave me in Sunday-school to-day.”

“Let me have it.”

The boy did so, and again our hero made tapers and then lit one. He looked around on all sides and espied three pieces of wood.

“I’ll split these up with my pocketknife,” he said. “They will then last longer.”

He was as good as his word, and soon had one of the tiny torches ablaze. Then they continued along one of the tunnels until they came to another cross opening.

“I—I don’t think this is the way,” faltered Darry, looking around blankly. “I don’t believe I was ever here before.”

“We are going upward,” answered Frank. “It seems to me that ought to be a good sign. Sooner or later we are bound to come out on top of the ground.”

“That’s true,” answered the smaller boy, and his face took on a more hopeful look.

Once more they moved forward, until a small wall six feet high barred their progress.

“See, here is an upper shaft,” said Frank. “And I think I can feel fresh air.”

“Can we get up there?” asked Darry.

“To be sure we can.” Frank placed his torch in a safe place. “Let me boost you up first, and then you can help me up.”

This was done, and they found a large chamber spread before them. From a great distance, down another tunnel, they saw a faint streak of light.

“Hurrah! I see light ahead!” cried Frank. “Come on!”

“It must be an opening,” echoed his companion, and was quick to follow in the footsteps of the young book agent.

Presently they reached a large, circular opening. The flooring was smooth and the ceiling was a good twenty feet over their heads. Near the center of the top was an opening three feet in diameter, through which the light was pouring.

“There is the opening,” said our hero, as he came to a halt, and pointed upward.

“Yes, but how are we to get out?” questioned Darry, in dismay. “I see no way to reach that hole, do you?”

“We’ll have to find a way,” returned Frank, resolutely.

This was easier said than done. Nothing was at hand by which to climb up to the opening. After a vain search around both boys came to a halt again.

“We’re stumped,” faltered Darry. “We’ll have to find some other way out. This is some hole on the mountain side that I never heard of.”

“Let us set up a shout,” suggested Frank. “Somebody may be passing this way.”

He yelled at the top of his lungs and Darry did the same. Their voices echoed and re-echoed through the abandoned coal mine, but no answer came back.

“I guess very few people come this way,” said Darry. “It’s a lonely neighborhood.”

“I’m going to try it again,” answered our hero, and shouted once more.

“Help! help!”

Again he waited, and fancied he now heard a cry in return. Then he renewed his efforts.

Presently the hole was darkened and an aged man tried to peer down upon those below.

“Hullo!” shouted Frank, quickly. “Help us to get out, will you?”

“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” muttered the old man. “How did you git in there, anyway?”

“We walked in at the regular opening on the mountain side,” answered the young book agent.

“An’ got lost?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess you don’t know the way back, eh?”

“We do not. Will you help us to get out?”

“Certainly I will. Just you wait a while till I go down to Ike Case’s cottage for a rope.”

“Thank you; we’ll wait,” said Frank.

The old man disappeared and was gone fully half an hour, a time that to both boys seemed an age.

“Perhaps he won’t come back at all,” said Darry, after he was tired of waiting.

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be back,” answered our hero, cheerfully, and just then the head of the old man appeared once more at the opening. He had a younger man with him.

“We brought the well rope with the bucket,” said the old man. “Just you step into the bucket one at a time, and we’ll haul you up.”

“Is the rope strong enough?” asked Darry. “I don’t want it to break when I’m almost out of the hole.”

“Oh, it’s strong enough,” answered the younger man. “We tested it before we brought it along.”

The rope with the water bucket attached was lowered to the flooring of the opening, and Darry was the first to step in. The men above hauled him up with ease, and then our hero followed.

“I can tell you I am mighty glad to get out of that mine,” said Frank, as he stepped into the open once more. “I never want to get lost in a mine again.”

“How long have you been down there?”

Our hero consulted his watch.

“Just three hours.”

“But it seemed like three years,” put in Darry.

“You were foolish to go in without a guide,” said the old man.

“I thought I knew the way. But when I dropped the lamp down a hole, I got scared and took a wrong tunnel, and then I got all mixed up.”

“Some men have gone crazy from being lost in a mine,” came from the younger man.

“We owe you something for hauling us out,” said Frank.

“Well, you can pay us for what it’s worth,” said the old man. “I’m poor and every little helps.”

“Do you live around here?”

“Yes, in a little cottage down the mountain side.”

“What do you think would be fair?” asked Frank. “I am not rich, but I wish to do what is right in this matter.” He knew that Darry could not afford to pay anything.

“How would a dollar for each of us strike you?” put in the younger man.

“Would you be satisfied with a dollar?” asked our hero.

“Yes, that would suit me,” answered the old man.

“Very well; I’ll pay you each a dollar,” and Frank handed the money over on the spot.

Both men were very grateful. Each had been a coal miner in his time, but old age had driven one and sickness the other to give up the labor.

It was growing dark when Frank and his boy friend reached town again.

“That was a real adventure, wasn’t it?” said Darry, when the hotel was gained. “I’m afraid if I tell my mother about it, she will never let me go into the mine again.”

“Do you want to visit the mine?” questioned Frank.

“I hardly think I do. Wasn’t it awful to get lost the way we did? I don’t know what I should have done had we had to stay in the mine all night.”

“Perhaps we should have gone crazy, like the miners that man mentioned,” answered Frank. “I guess I’ve had all the coal mine I want.”