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"You--you here!" she exclaimed, and was oddly conscious that her

relief at meeting even him had wiped out for the present her fear

of the man.

"For God's sake, have you got anything to eat?" he breathed

thickly.

It had been part of the play that each member of their little

party should carry a dinner-pail just like an ordinary miner.

Wherefore she had hers still in her hand.

"Yes, and I have a candle here. Have you another match?"

He lit the candle with a shaking hand.

"Gimme that bucket," he ordered gruffly, and began to devour

ravenously the food he found in it, tearing at sandwiches and

gulping them down like a hungry dog.

"What day is this?" he stopped to ask after he had stayed the

first pangs.

She told him Tuesday.

"I ain't eaten since Saturday," he told her. "I figured it was a

week. There ain't any days in this place--nothin' but night.

Can't tell one from another."

"It's terrible," she agreed.