A push of the plunger, a detonation, and a wait of long moments; it accomplished nothing, and the pumping went on.

If the earthly remains of Harry Harkins were below, they steadfastly refused to come to the surface.
The volunteers had thinned now to only a few men at the pumps and the gasoline engine, and Sam Herbenfelder was taking turns with Fairchild in overseeing the job.

Spectators were not as frequent either; they came and went,--all except Mother Howard, who was silently constant.
The water had fallen to the level of the drift, two hundred feet down; the pumps now were working on the main flood which still lay below, while outside the townspeople came and went, and twice daily the owner and proprietor and general assignment reporter of the _Daily Bugle_ called at the mouth of the tunnel for news of progress.

But there was no news, save that the water was lower.

The excitement of it began to dim.