Max barked and bit at the stream.

Bagger scooped up Max and clamped a hand over the dog’s muzzle. With Max silenced, Bagger removed his hand and motioned for the men in his crew to join him at the base of the shaft.

Thomas inched closer to overhear their urgent whispers.

“There’s too much pressure behind those leaks,” Mole said. “Packing them with clay is a temporary fix at best.”

“The section’s a loss,” Boomer added. “Even if we stop the flow, we can’t dig any farther. We angled too high and broke back through the water table.”

Bagger kicked at the water creeping up the cuffs of his trousers. “So we abandon the chamber?”

“Not until we stop the water,” Boomer said. “If we don’t, this whole gallery will flood.”

“We’ve got to dam it,” Bats said. “We’ll need enough bags to wall off the face.”

Scratching his mustache, Bagger glanced back to where the other boys stood at the tunnel face as he considered the men’s assessment of the situation. Inhaling deeply, he nodded and then signaled to the men to climb the shaft to the upper gallery to fetch more filled sandbags. Once Mole, Bats, and Boomer had started their ascent, Bagger grabbed hold of the ladder to heft himself onto the bottom rung. Thomas moved to follow, but the crew leader held up a hand to stop him. With Max tucked under one arm, Bagger shook his head, jabbed a finger at Thomas and then pointed toward the other boys waiting at the tunnel face before pressing the finger to his lips. Though he didn’t speak a word, his orders were clear. Thomas and the boys were to stay in the chamber and keep the leaks as contained as possible, and they were to do so quietly.

Max whimpered as Bagger hauled the dog up the shaft and into the upper gallery. Thomas watched with envy. He’d been caught before in a gallery that flooded back in Dover. It was not an experience he wished to repeat. Water was unforgiving in mines.

When Thomas rejoined the boys at the tunnel face, Frederick lifted a soaked foot from the rising water. “So much for keeping our feet dry,” he whispered to Thomas.

Thomas didn’t answer. Wet feet were the least of their worries. With the chamber flooded, they’d wasted days, if not weeks, of digging, but if they lost the gallery too, they’d be pushed further behind a deadline they were already struggling to meet. He passed Frederick another slab of clay, which Frederick pressed into a new crack. The plug held, and Frederick stepped back to scan the wall for any other leaks. Only the hole George struggled to plug remained.

Charlie handed George the last slab in his sandbag. George pressed it into the growing cracks, but the water pressure eroded the edges. Chunks of clay broke free, and water gushed from a gaping hole, soaking his shirt and trousers. “Mouse!” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Tell Bagger we need those bags now!”