In Caverns Below by Stanton A. Coblentz — Read

It is impossible to say how long I lay there cramped in the gloom. It may have been only minutes, but it seemed hours, while the howls and wailings of the rabble came to my ears through the thin slit of iron that saved me from their fury. "This way! No, that way! No, you fools, the other way! " I heard them shrilling in their confusion, as their feet went scampering in a hundred directions. "Catch him! Catch him! Don't let the villain get away! We'll teach him; we'll teach him! We'll make mincemeat of the devil! " And then, more sinister still, I heard someone exclaiming, "Hey, boys, got the rope? . Knot it tight there! ."

At these words I felt an intense desire to creep farther down into my hiding place, but was unable to do so. My feet were resting on a ledge only a foot or two wide, and beneath me vacancy seemed to yawn. I felt sure that I was on the brink of a precipice, for a pebble or fragment of metal, accidentally dislodged by my foot, rattled for a long while as it descended. Meantime I was in as uncomfortable a position as one could imagine; huddled against the iron most awkwardly while a chilly breath of air continually blew over me. I was not only catching cold, but -- much worse -- had reason to fear that I might sneeze at any moment, so betraying my hiding-place.