Chapter XI: Into the Depths

Black, horrid darkness closed in smotheringly on Jerry as the light went out. Afterwards he seemed to remember having screamed in a frenzy of terror, but he was never sure as to that. Perhaps his voice, like his body, became for the instant paralyzed. At all events, it seemed to him minutes, although it was probably but the fraction of a moment, before the power of action returned, and with it the faculty of thought. Standing there in the darkness, he cried at the top of his voice:

“_Tom! Tom! Are you hurt? Can you hear me? Tom!_”

No answer came, though his heart was pounding so violently that it seemed to shake his whole body and the sound of it might well have drowned all else. Cautiously he lowered himself to hands and knees and cautiously he crept forward in the blackness until one shaking, exploring hand hung over the edge of the pit. Again he shouted, and now, as he had noted before, his voice came back to him in hollow echoes from the depths of the shaft. But, amongst the sepulchral and ghostly voices was one that brought such a revulsion of feeling as to make Jerry’s heart nearly stop beating. It was no echo, but a distinct though faint answer to his hail, coming, as it seemed, from the very depths of the earth:

“Jerry!”

With a sob of relief, Jerry called again. “Tom! Can you hear me? Are you safe?”

“Yes!” The voice sounded stronger now. “I’m in water, holding on to a――――” Jerry couldn’t get that word, for Tom’s voice grew faint again. Jerry waited a moment. Then: “I’ve hurt my arm, I think,” Tom went on slowly. “The left one. Can you get me out, Jerry?”

“Yes! Just you hold on a minute! Can you?”

“Yes, but――please hurry!”

“Coming, Tom!” Jerry reached for the end of the ladder, found the two uprights, drew himself toward them on his knees. Then, not without a prickling sensation down his spine, he laid himself face down on the tunnel floor, grasped an upright in each hand and pushed backward until his feet dangled over the void. Whether the ladder, if it really was a ladder, would hold him he did not know. But he groped with his feet for the top round, found it at last and cautiously placed his weight on it. It held, and, breathing a little prayer, Jerry lowered himself into the shaft, his hands straining hard at their holds and his heart thumping sickeningly. It took courage to place absolute reliance on that unseen ladder, but after a moment of fearful indecision, he bent one leg and searched with his other foot for the next rung. He found it and lowered his weight to it. His head now was, he judged, below the level of the tunnel floor, for it was no longer possible to hold to the uprights, secured as they were directly to the wall of the shaft, and he was forced to grip the rungs. So close were these to the wall that there was scarcely space for his feet to lodge on them, and he wished mightily that he had thought to discard his shoes. The rungs were worn where years before other feet had trod them, but they still seemed stout, and gradually he found confidence, and courage returned.

After a minute or two he stopped and peered down into the black void beneath him. “Tom!” he called.

“Hello!”

“I’m coming down by the ladder!”

There was a moment’s silence, and then: “Is it safe?” asked the faint voice below.

“I reckon so. It’s all right so far. Can you hang on?”

“Yes!” But the voice, though courageous, quavered piteously.

“Just a minute more!” called Jerry reassuringly, although in his heart he knew that, even could he reach the bottom of the ladder, his task would be but begun. But he went on, a bit faster now, though testing each rung before he put his full weight on it. Suddenly his heart missed a beat. As he placed one foot on a crosspiece there was a snapping sound and it gave beneath him. In the silence there came the noise of a tiny splash as one fragment of the broken rung struck the water below. Jerry, startled, clung desperately there, and Tom’s voice came anxiously.

“What――happened? Are you――all right?”

“Yes!” Jerry’s voice shook a little in spite of his effort to keep it steady. “A rung broke, that’s all.” Already, kneeling now on the rung on which he had been standing, he was groping for the support next below the broken one. To his joy and relief it was there and firm. As he lowered himself to it Tom again spoke.

“Jerry! Listen! You’d better not try it. You’d better go back for――help.”

“It would take half an hour,” cried Jerry. “Could you――hold out, Tom?”

There was a long pause before the answer came. “I could――try,” said Tom.

“I’m coming down this way!” declared Jerry determinedly. “I must be halfway already! Tom, if you can’t hold on, if you have to let go, can you keep afloat for a spell?”

“I’ll try, Jerry. One arm’s――sort of――gone――back――on me.”

“I’m coming!” Jerry managed to make his voice sound fairly cheerful that time. Another rung and another. He dared not hurry too much, dared not trust a support until he had tested it well, but he made progress. By now, he judged, he had lowered himself a full forty feet. The last time he had spoken Tom’s voice had sounded much nearer. If the ladder held――Jerry couldn’t trust himself even to consider the other contingency――as much more time and effort should bring him to the bottom of it. What was to happen then he didn’t know. The ladder might stop short of the surface of the water, in which case he must somehow wriggle out of his garments and, tying them together, trust to reaching Tom in that way. Failing that――but there Jerry’s planning stopped. At the back of his mind, I think, lurked the grim determination to stand by Tom to the end, whatever the end might be. Returning to the school for aid was clear outside his reckoning, for he well knew that with one arm injured beyond use, Tom could never stay afloat for the length of time necessary to reach the school and return. But Jerry’s planning went no further than an effort to reach Tom by hand or by improvised line. After that he could only hope!

After he had lowered himself by a dozen more rungs he spoke again. “All right, Tom?”

“All right!” was the answer, but Jerry knew that the other was almost at the limit of endurance, for the words came with a gasp that spoke of pain. Grimly Jerry found the succeeding rung. He had lost his cap long before and his forehead was beaded with a perspiration that lay chill upon it. His hands that grasped the rungs tightly were at once wet and clammy and in spite of himself he could not keep his muscles from trembling. Each time he bent a knee he feared that he could not straighten it again. It was as though not bone but water lay beneath the flesh. But he kept on, with slow and cautious haste. He must, he told himself exultantly, be close now to the flooded bottom of the shaft. And telling himself that, his heart sank sickeningly.

His groping foot found only space! Not only was the next rung missing, but the one beyond that, and, still searching, the fearful knowledge came to him that just beneath him the whole ladder was gone! A surge of despair almost loosened his hold. He closed his staring eyes and a sob escaped him while his grip on the rung above him tightened frantically. Despair and terror both kept him silent and motionless for a long moment. Then with groping feet he made certain. On each side the upright was missing. He could feel the rough and splintered ends. The ladder had failed him after all!

Desperately he clung there, with a feeling of horrid faintness. What could he do? Although he had almost accomplished the descent, yet he was sure that far too great a distance intervened between him and Tom to be bridged by any means at his command. He feared to speak yet lest Tom would guess and give up his fight, feared to speak at all since, having spoken, he must finally tell the truth. Jerry thought hard and desperately, clinging there in the encompassing darkness, and seconds sped.

At last he spoke, and, strangely, his voice held no hint of discouragement or despair. He spoke, indeed, quietly and even cheerily, “Tom,” he said.

“Yes?”

“All right, just wanted to find out how far away you were. Reckon you’re about twenty feet from me now, eh?” Doubtless silence gave assent, for Jerry went on. “Where are you, Tom? On this side of the shaft or the other? Can you tell where I am from my voice?”

“Yes,” answered Tom weakly, hesitatingly, “You’re on the other side. I’m hanging――to a spike here across the shaft.”

“Good! Keep your head down, Tom. Keep as close to the side as you can. I’m going to drop something in a minute and I don’t want it should hit you, understand, Tom?”

“What――is it?”

“I reckon it’ll be a piece of this ladder,” answered Jerry grimly. “It will be if I can break it loose. I can’t get no nigher to you, Tom, for there ain’t no more ladder!”