The Hardy boys were so profoundly discouraged by the discovery that the tunnel, their sole hope of safety, ended in nothing but a blank wall of rock, that for a while they sat in the gloom, scarcely speaking. Their plight was perilous and there seemed not the slightest ray of hope.

At last Frank bestirred himself.

“I’m still thinking of that gust of fresh air we felt farther back in the tunnel!” he said.

“There is fresh air coming in somewhere. The air in here isn’t getting foul.”

“Let’s go back and explore the tunnel again. We might find an opening of some kind.”

“It won’t be big enough for us to get through,” predicted Joe, gloomily.

“Well, we’ll go and see, anyway.”

The boys turned back. Frank took the lead again and they moved on. The flashlight cast its bright circle of illumination on the dank rock walls of their prison as Frank explored every inch of the sides of the tunnel. For a while their scrutiny met with no reward. The tunnel was unbroken by crevice or cranny.

“We must have passed the place by now,” said Joe.

“I don’t think so. We’ll keep on trying.”

At last Frank gave an exclamation of satisfaction. He had felt a sudden rush of cold air against his face. It seemed to come from above and he stopped, flashing the light hither and thither.

“It’s around here somewhere.”

“I can feel the draft. There must be a big opening.”

The circle of light ceased wavering and rested finally on a place at the side of the tunnel, toward the roof. It was just a dark patch, an indentation in the rock, but it was quite large and it seemed to indicate an opening of some kind. It was about five feet from the ground.

“I’ll hold the light,” Frank said. “See if you can clamber up and investigate that place, Joe.”

He stepped back and directed the flashlight so that Joe was able to find a convenient foothold. Joe reached up and secured a grasp on the edge of the natural shelf of rock. Then he managed to scramble up the wall until he swung himself over the ledge. Frank stepped back farther and the light plainly revealed his brother kneeling on the rocky shelf.

“Find anything?” he asked.

“There’s a powerful draft of air coming down through here,” said Joe, in tones of suppressed excitement. “I think this is a sort of tunnel or air shaft through the rock. I’ll turn on my own flashlight.”

In a moment Frank could see the glow of his brother’s light reflected from the rocks above. Then he heard Joe give a lusty shout of delight.

“It leads on up!” he called. “It is a tunnel running at an angle, and I think it goes to the surface.”

“Can you see any light?”

“No. Nothing. But I think it won’t hurt to explore it. By the force of the cold air rushing down through here I think it must lead to the top.”

“I’m coming up.”

Joe disappeared up into the tunnel and Frank, putting his flashlight into his pocket, scrambled up to the shelf of rock. There he knelt and turned on the light again.

He could see Joe ahead of him, crawling on up through the narrow passage. The tunnel in the rock was just as Joe had described it, a long, narrow shaft that led upward at a steep slope. It was not so steep that they would not be able to clamber on up to wherever it might lead.

“Go ahead,” he called out. “I’ll follow you.”

“I hope it doesn’t get narrower up ahead.”

“We’ll go as far as the tunnel lets us.”

The two boys began crawling up the rocky shaft. Joe called back:

“It’s widening out!”

And, truly, the shaft became gradually wider until the boys could almost stand upright in it. The draft of cold air blew against them with great force and roared and whistled down the tunnel. Suddenly Joe stopped and waved the flashlight back and forth.

“There’s a drop here.”

Frank joined him. There was room enough now for them to stand side by side, and the wavering flashlights showed them that they stood at the end of the tunnel and that it opened into a chamber of rock similar to the mine working they had first entered.

“Look, Joe! I think I see a glow of light away over there. Turn off your flash.”

The flashlights were switched off and the brothers stood in total darkness. When their eyes became accustomed to the absence of the electric glow, they saw that almost directly across from them was a faint, bluish grey reflection of light.

“We’ve found our way into another mine,” said Frank. “That must be the light from the shaft. There’s a chance for us yet.”

He switched on his light again and flashed it into the rocky chamber into which the tunnel led. They found that they stood but a few feet above the floor of the mine working, so they promptly leaped down and then began a cautious walk across the cavern. The floor was rough and strewn with chipped masses of rock which showed that mining had once gone on there, and once they stumbled over a pick that someone had left behind when the working was abandoned.

They drew closer to the light that emanated from the shaft, and at last their flashlights revealed a crude ladder leading up the wall. Here they were met by another rush of cold air. The draft created by the tunnel leading into the other mine was severe and the wind whistled about the cavern. At the bottom of the shaft the Hardy boys looked up.

The ladder led up a distance of about twenty feet, and they could see the blue sky above. The sight made them sigh with relief. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from them.

“Up you go,” said Frank. “We’ll be out of here in no time, now.”

“I’ll say we’re lucky.”

“I never thought we’d see daylight again. The old sky looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“Never looked so good to me before.”

Joe put his foot on the first rung of the ladder. Although the mine had evidently been deserted many years before, the ladder leading down into the shaft still held firm. Slowly he began to ascend.

Frank came behind. Each was filled with relief that they had escaped imprisonment in the abandoned mine, imprisonment that might easily have meant a wretched death. The cold wind about their faces was like the breath of life to them.

Suddenly Joe stopped.

“Listen!” he whispered.

They remained still. Then, from above, at the top of the shaft, they could hear voices.

“That cave-in must have finished them,” someone was saying. “The whole shaft is gone.”

“They might have found their way out,” replied another voice. “These two mines lead into each other.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yes⁠—there’s a tunnel leading down into their main drift.”

“Oh, those kids would never find it. Probably they were crushed to death by the cave-in, anyway.”

The voices died away as the men evidently moved back from the neighborhood of the shaft-head.

“Someone has been looking for us,” said Joe, in a low voice.

“They’ve given us up for dead. They’ll get a surprise when we pop up out of the ground. Evidently they weren’t going to try to dig us out. Go on up.”

Joe resumed his climb and in a few minutes he emerged above ground, stepping off the top of the ladder to a rickety platform covered with snow. Frank scrambled up beside him, and then the two brothers stared in amazement at what they saw.

Three rough-looking men were standing only a few yards away. One was a tall, surly chap in a short, fur coat. He was badly in need of a shave and his brutal chin and heavy jowls were black with a stubble of beard. The other two were short and husky of build. One was clean-shaven and thin-featured, the other had a reddish mustache. About the waist of one of the men, the thin-featured fellow, was a belt with a holster from which projected the butt of a revolver. The three were villainous in appearance.

As though some sixth sense warned the men that they were observed, they whirled about and confronted the Hardy boys.

The men were as surprised as the lads. Both Frank and Joe realized that there was something unsavory about the strange trio and when they saw the thin-featured man suddenly reach for his revolver they knew that they were confronting not friends, but enemies.

“That’s them!” shouted the man in the fur coat excitedly. “Grab them!” And with that he began to run toward the two boys. “No shooting!” he shouted to the thin-featured fellow, who promptly shoved his revolver back into the holster.

“Run for it,” muttered Frank.

He wheeled about and commenced to run down the hillside in the general direction of the town.

The snow was deep and it hampered their movements, but the pursuers also experienced this handicap. Frank and Joe were exhausted by their gruelling experience in the mine and they were unable to make good progress. The man in the fur coat came leaping after them, ploughing through the snow recklessly. He gained rapidly on them.

“Stop or we’ll shoot,” he roared.

This was but a bluff, and the Hardy boys recognized it as such. They raced madly on through the deep snow that clung to their limbs and held them back. Joe was lagging behind, unable to keep up the pace. The man in the fur coat was only a few feet back of him. The fellow leaped ahead and sprang at Joe in a football tackle that brought the boy down. The pair went rolling over and over in the snow, kicking and scrambling.

Frank stopped and turned back. He could not desert his brother and he was prepared to be captured with him at the expense of his own freedom. He met the thin-faced man, who led the other pair of pursuers, with a slashing blow in the face that knocked the man off his balance so that he tumbled backward into the snow with a grunt of pain and amazement. The short, stocky man came on with a growl. Frank swung and missed; then his attacker closed with him and they struggled to and fro in the snowbank.

His assailant twined one foot about Frank’s leg and they toppled over into the snow. By that time the thin man had scrambled to his feet and again launched himself into the struggle. Frank Hardy was completely overpowered.

He was dragged roughly to his feet, his arms gripped behind his back. Joe had been no match for his more powerful antagonist and he too had been forced to submit to capture.

The trio held the boys in their power.

“What’ll we do with ’em?” asked the thin-faced man gruffly.

“Bring ’em back to the mine first,” said the fellow in the fur coat. “I guess the boss will want to see these birds.”

Frank and Joe were roughly bundled up the hillside again by their captors. All the time Frank’s mind was in a whirl. Who were these three men? Why had they attacked them? Why had they been hunting for them in the first place? And who was “the boss” they spoke of?

In due time they reached the shaft-head again and there the man in the fur coat faced them.

“Who are you two boys?” he demanded.

“Who are you?” countered Frank.

“That doesn’t matter. What’s your names?”

“Tell us yours first.”

“What were you doing in that mine?”

“What did you attack us for? Why are you keeping us here?”

The man in the fur coat became impatient at receiving questions instead of answers.

“Are you the Hardy boys?” he asked. “Sons of that detective?”

“Try and find out.”

“We’ll find out, all right,” declared the man in the fur coat threateningly. “We’ll take you to somebody that’ll make you talk.”

“You’d better let us go or the whole three of you will find yourselves in jail,” said Frank.

The man laughed shortly.

“No fear,” he said. “Not in Lucky Bottom, at any rate.” He turned to the other two men. “Keep these boys here,” he ordered. “I’ll be back in a while. Don’t let them get away!”

“Where are you going, Jack?” asked the thin-faced man.

“I’m going to get Black Pepper. He’ll make these birds talk.”

With that the fellow stalked away through the snow. Frank and Joe glanced quickly at one another. They knew now the explanation of their capture. They were in the hands of three members of the gang of the notorious Black Pepper, the outlaw.