There was no answer, and he again resumed, quietly:
"A well, sir! A well, sir! dug into the solid rock, an' down about ten or twelve feet, filled with water. I could hear it tricklin'. I bent down an' looked in. Settin' on the edge was a cup, green an' shiny after I rubbed the dust off it, an' smooth as any plate you ever see. It took some trouble to get down to the water, but with a bit of rope thet I found still 'round my shoulders I man'ged to get a drink; and then it come to me how am I to get out of this place, anyhow?"
It was evident that the best way to get at the end of the story was to let the man go on in his own manner, so after a pause, in which no one spoke, he continued, his voice sounding monotonous in the dead silence:
"Strange to say, jest then I felt a current o' cool air a-comin' from the back o' the lidge beyon' the wall. As I went further in the current grew stronger, and the lidge narrowed down so thet I could jest squeeze myself 'long by bendin' somewhat careful like. At last I came to a hole, an' thar the air was so strong jest as if it war comin' up a chimney, only it was as cold as ice. I put the cup into my pocket, an' sounded the hole with my rope. It didn't go straight down, but sloped away, an' I crawled in it, feet first. It was all pitch dark, but I could make my way 'long, slippin' and pushin' with my elbows. All the time the draft kept gettin' stronger, but seemed to me it was growin' warmer, too, and then--"
Coleman had an exasperating way of stopping when he reached a most exciting place. But now he went on quicker, his voice rising with a rush of words.
"--I felt somethin' pilin' on my shoulders an' runnin' down my neck, an' it was sand! sand! an' the draft an' wind began to die away. At first I thought my head would be buried, for the sand ran over my shoulders an' almost held my arms; but I found I could keep it back by workin' careful, and all the time I was movin' down, feelin' my way with my feet before me. It seems to me I must have gone 'long for hours, when all at once I seed a little dot of light 'way down ahead. It give me hope, an' I pushed 'long, the hole growin' summat bigger, an' the sand pourin' past me so I had to fight to keep ahead of it. Jest as I could make out the entrance plain, I seemed to slip an' slide 'long, fightin' with my arms an' elbows to keep from stiflin', an' then know'd no more.