"Supposin' she is
what ye tell, that ain't any reason the explosion's got to come this
particular night, is it? She's kept on a growling for a hundred year
now, an' nawthin's happened. Reckons it ain't agoin' to come off jest
acause we pilgrims happens to be up here."
"But you said we ought to find a cave, and go in, Nick," continued the
youth. "Suppose we do, and the sulphur fumes suffocate us? They must
be just awful inside the mountain. This is a nice pickle for me to get
into! If I stay out here I'm in danger of being drowned, or swept away
by a landslide; if I go inside there's all the chance in the world that
I'll be soaking in poisonous sulphur gas till I keel over. I'm up
against it good and hard."
"We're all in the same boat, remember, Peg," declared the cowboy.
"But you knew more about this thing than I did, Nick. Why'd you let me
come? It was all a fool business, and you're most to blame," protested
Peg.
"Aw! let up on that kind of talk, will ye?" growled the cowboy, who was
himself losing his respect for his employer, owing to the presence of
those things which he did not understand, and the nearness of which
aroused his own fears.
"I will, Nick; only get me out of this hole safe and sound, and I give
you my word I'll pay you that thousand dollars. But where do you
suppose Joe can be all this time? Has he run away, or dropped over
into one of those pits we saw on the way up here? I wish he'd show up.
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