The result was the same. No visible outlet existed, save the tiny hole overhead. Here the prisoners stopped and looked up. They quickly made a disheartening discovery. It was snowing fast outside. The white flakes were dropping through the dingy and trampled ma.s.s of crust.

"The trail of those rascals will all be covered up," exclaimed Jerry, dolefully.

"It is out of sight by this time," replied Sparwick. "But that won't matter much. I can guess purty well where them fellars are going. I ain't denyin' that time is vallyble, though. There ought to be a way to climb out of here."

"One of us might get on your shoulders," suggested Hamp.

"No use," Sparwick replied. "There ain't nothin' to ketch hold of but a rim of snow. It's purty hard, but it wouldn't bear the weight of one of you chaps."

This was manifestly true. Various other plans were discussed, and abandoned as impossible.

Soon night came on, and the pale gray light faded away from the crevice.

The boys and their companion were now face to face with a dreadful and terrifying fact. They were hopelessly entombed underground.

Unless some rescuer should chance that way--and there was slight hope of this--they were doomed to certain death.

The disaster affected them differently. Sparwick fell into a dull, apathetic mood, from which he would rouse at times to wring his hands and groan. The man was plainly a coward at heart.

Outwardly, Jerry and Hamp made a braver show of courage. Perhaps they didn't realize how black was the prospect. That they still clung to a ray of hope was shown by their actions. Again and again they traversed the entire length of the cavern, vainly searching for an outlet that had no existence.

As the night advanced, they suffered from hunger and cold. Only ten feet above them were the two sheds, laden with everything needful. The possession of these would mean, at the least, the power to endure a long siege of imprisonment.

An idea flashed into Jerry's mind. He brought the rifle, and reached up with it, standing on tiptoe. He was not tall enough, so he gave the weapon to Sparwick. The latter was barely able to poke the sleds, but he could not budge them an inch. They were evidently wedged tightly across the hole. Their great weight held them there as though in a vise.

Sparwick dashed the weapon from him.

"It's no use," he cried. "I might as well try to move a mountain. A year's poking won't bring them sleds down."

This ended the hopes of warmth and food. Death by starvation now stared the captives in the face. A little later, the candle burned to the very bottom and went out. The remaining one was too precious to light.

Sparwick crawled over against the wall. Jerry and Hamp followed him.

There they spent the night, huddled close to one another for warmth.

The hours of darkness seemed like so many weeks. At last the pallid light of dawn appeared overhead. Another day had begun its course.

The day wore on with protracted suffering and monotony. Long after it seemed that night was surely due, the gray streak of light continued to quiver in the crevice.

At length Jerry sprang fiercely up and lit the precious candle. Lured on by a hope that was born of despair, he staggered up and down the cavern.

He stared at the slimy walls and roof. From very weakness he reeled against them time and again. Perhaps his wits were hunger-sharpened, as he was more alert than usual. At all events, he discovered something that had previously eluded him.

On the right-hand wall of the cave, close to the dead bear, was a sort of rude path. It sloped up the rock by crevices and little ledges and projecting k.n.o.bs.

Jerry held the candle as far overhead as possible. The light shone into a narrow, black recess under the roof. He shouted with all his might, again and again, till the cavern rang with the echoes.

Hamp came in haste to the spot, and close behind staggered Sparwick.

They wonderingly demanded of Jerry what he meant. Possibly they believed, at first, that suffering had turned his brain.

Jerry pointed out the path and the crevice above it. Then they understood.

"It is where the bear entered," exclaimed Sparwick. "Look, here's proof enough."

He gathered from one of the crevices several stiff, black hairs.

Jerry had already commenced the ascent. He held the candle tightly in one hand as he scaled the rugged face of the rock. Hope mastered weakness. He did not slip or fall.

His companions were close behind him when he gained the top. Here was a tortuous pa.s.sage, three or four feet broad, leading off at right angles from the main cavern. The little party followed it eagerly.

For half-a-dozen yards it remained level. Then it dropped at a steep angle for almost an equal distance, meanwhile growing more and more narrow. Ah! here was the termination at last--not a hopeless wall of rock, but a ma.s.s of soft, powdery snow. This was a sure promise of deliverance. What could snow mean but that the outer world was close at hand?

"We are saved!" cried Jerry, as he placed the candle firmly on the floor of the pa.s.sage.

"Yes, saved!" echoed Hamp, in a broken, husky voice.

"Derned if we ain't," declared Sparwick. "Dig, youngsters; dig."

He dropped on his hands and knees, and started in.

The boys helped him from each side. They tore furiously at the soft snow, crushing it down as they advanced.

The tunnel grew deeper and deeper.

Suddenly, the light crust overhead broke of its own weight. All sprang erect, threshing out with their arms. They found themselves in the open air, and facing a level stretch of pine forest.

Behind them was the rugged hillside, under which lay the cavern. They were simply speechless with the joy of that first moment of freedom.

They inhaled long, deep breaths of the frosty air. Twilight was just falling. It was not yet so dark but that a glimpse could be had through the trees of the misty, distant surface of Chesumcook Lake.

But hunger and cold were quick to a.s.sert their sway.

"We must get the sleds!" exclaimed Hamp. "That's the first thing."

"An' we'll have ter spend another night in the cavern," added Sparwick.

"We sart'nly ain't fit to travel, even if we wanted to push on through the darkness."

This was too self-evident for denial. The boys regretted the fact, since every hour of delay seemed to lessen the chances of saving Brick from the unknown fate that threatened him.

CHAPTER XXIV.

A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE.

It is time to take the reader back to the lonely cabin in the swamp.

Brick's daring defiance of his captors fairly petrified them with astonishment and consternation. There was an ill-concealed twinkle of admiration in Raikes' eyes. Bogle's expression indicated only savage anger.

"You won't write a line, eh?" snarled Bogle, with suppressed fury.

"No, I won't," repeated Brick. His voice was a trifle hoa.r.s.e, but resolute. "I know what you're after, but you shan't succeed. You've robbed me of enough money as it is. I won't help you to get any more out of my father----"