The flames were creeping lower on the shaft timbers, and were rioting among the screens.

The engine-room was hot and stifling.  The engineer said he was hoisting the last load that could be brought out.

When it reached the surface Conway leaped from among the men and stood in the door of the engine-room.

“Let it down again!” he shouted.  “Ralph is below yet, the boy.  I’ll go down myself an’ git ’im.”

He heard a crash behind him, and he turned in time to see the iron roof of the carriage disappear into the mouth of the shaft.

The burning frame-work at the head had ceased to support it, and it had fallen down, dragging a mass of flaming timbers with it.

Conway went out into the rain and sat down and cried like a child.

Afterward, when the storm had partially subsided, a wagon was stopped at the door of the office near the burning breaker, the limp body of Bachelor Billy was brought out and placed in it, and it was driven rapidly away.  They had found him lying on the track at the head with the flames creeping dangerously near.  He was unconscious when they came to him, he was unconscious still.  They took him to his room at Mrs. Maloney’s cottage, and put him in his bed.  The doctor came soon, and under his vigorous treatment the man lost that deathly pallor about his face, but he did not yet recover consciousness.  The doctor said he would come out of it in time, and went away to see to the others who had been injured.

The men who had brought the invalid were gone, and Mrs. Maloney was sitting by him alone.

The storm had passed, the sun had come out just long enough to bid a reassuring “good-night” to the lately frightened dwellers on the earth, and was now dropping down behind the western hills.

A carriage stopped at Bachelor Billy’s door and a moment later Mrs. Burnham knocked and entered.

“I heard that he had suffered from the stroke,” she said, looking at the still form on the bed, “and I came to see him.  Is he better?”

“He ain’t come out of it yet, ma’am,” responded Mrs. Maloney, “but the doctor’s been a-rubbin’ of im’ an’ a-givin’ ‘im stimmylants, an’ he says it’s all right he’ll be in the course of a few hours.  Will ye have a chair, ma’am?”

“Thank you.  I’ll sit here by him a while with the fan and relieve you.  Where is Ralph?”

“He’s not come yet, ma’am.”

“Why, Mrs. Maloney, are you sure?  Is it possible that anything has happened to him?”

“To shpake the trut’, ma’am, I’m a bit worried about ’im meself.  But they said to me partic’ler, as how ivery man o’ thim got out o’ the mine befoor the carriage fell.  Most like he’s a-watchin’ the fire an’ doesn’t know his Uncle Billy’s hurted.  Ye’ll see ‘im comin’ quick enough when he hears that, I’m thinkin’.”

Mrs. Burnham had seated herself at the bedside with the fan in her hand.

“I’ll wait for him,” she said; “perhaps he’ll be here soon.”