Suddenly there came a blinding flash, a roar as of a cannon
Suddenly there came a blinding flash, a roar as of a cannon
Suddenly there came a blinding flash, a roar as of a cannon discharged in that confined space, a furious rush of air that extinguished every light and shrouded the gangway in a profound darkness, and the rattling crash of falling rocks and broken timbers. The Mollies who followed Job were hurled, stunned and bleeding, to the floor of the gangway. Even Monk Tooley, who was at a considerable distance behind them, was thrown violently against one of the side walls. As for Job Taskar, he lay dead on the heap of debris over which he had been climbing when the uncovered flame of his lamp ignited the terrible fire-damp that hung close under the roof. He was burned almost beyond recognition, and the clothes were torn from his body. Among the fragments of these afterwards picked up was found a portion of a letter which read:
"It will be impossible to obtain the position untilposition must be supported by a number of votes whwhen you become mine boss."You know as well as anybody that a county delega
"It will be impossible to obtain the position untilposition must be supported by a number of votes whwhen you become mine boss.
"You know as well as anybody that a county delega
When the battered and bruised miners had recovered their senses, relighted their lamps, and ascertained the fate of their leader, they were content to drag themselves out from the gangway without pursuing any further the search in which they had been engaged. Fortunately for them the quantity of gas exploded had been small, else they might have been instantly killed, or the gangway so shattered as to completely bar their way of escape, and hold them buried alive between its black walls. As it was, it brought down a great mass of debris on top of that already fallen, and so choked the passage beyond where Job Taskar's body lay that it was effectually closed.
Although Derrick and the mine boss were far in advance of their pursuers, and had already passed most of the obstacles to their rapid progress, they were very sensible of the shock of the explosion when it occurred. The rush of air that immediately followed was strong enough to extinguish their safety-lamps, and cause them to stagger, but it did them no injury.
When these two had so suddenly stepped from the presence of the Mollies, and slammed the door in their faces, they had instantly extinguished their lamps, and started on a run back through the gangway by which they had come. Of course, in the utter darkness, they could not run fast nor far, but they were well beyond the circle of light from Job Taskar's lamp when he sprang out after them, and that was all they wanted. When they saw the little cluster of flickering lights borne by the Mollies disappear in the opposite direction from that they were taking, they felt greatly relieved, and a few minutes later ventured to relight their own lamps and continue their retreat.
"Looks as if we'd got to go out the way we came in, after all, doesn't it, sir?" said Derrick, who was the first to speak.
"It does rather look that way," answered the mine boss, "but I'd rather risk it, under the circumstances, than face those fellows just now. They have had a chance to recover from their surprise at our appearance, and some of them are as mad as hornets to think they let us go. A moment's hesitation when we opened that door and found ourselves among them would probably have cost us our lives. Our very boldness was all that saved us. A danger boldly faced is robbed of half its terrors.
"By-the-way, Derrick, our coming on those fellows as we did was a most remarkable thing. I thought your tracing was leading us to the top of the air-shaft instead of to the chamber at its bottom. We must be on a lower level than we thought. How do you account for it? Can you have made a mistake in regard to the plans?"
Derrick's heart sank within him as he remembered the weak spot in his tracing; but he answered, "I don't think so, sir; though it does look as if something was wrong."
Here conversation was interrupted by the difficulties of the road, for they had reached the mass of fallen debris that blocked Job Taskar's way a little later.
As they crawled on hands and knees over the obstruction, the mine boss said, hoarsely, and with great difficulty, "Hurry, boy! there's gas enough here to kill us if we breathe it many minutes. If we had naked lights instead of safeties we'd be blown into eternity."
After they had safely passed this danger he said, "I hope with all my heart that those fellows won't come that way looking for us; there's sure to be an explosion if they do. I don't believe they will, though," he added, after a moment's reflection; "they're too old hands to expose themselves needlessly to the fire-damp."
They had again waded through the icy water, which the mine boss said he must have drawn off before it increased so as to be dangerous, and were well along towards the opening into the break, when the muffled sound of the explosion reached their ears.
"There's trouble back there!" exclaimed Mr. Jones, as he relighted their lamps, which the rush of air had extinguished, "and I'm afraid that somebody has got hurt. You go on out, Derrick, and I'll go back and see. No, I won't, either. I can get there as quickly, and do more good, by going round outside and down the slope. Come, let us run."
In a few minutes they had reached the bottom of the break, climbed the rickety ladder, and once more they stood in safety beneath the starlit sky of the outer world.
"Eight o'clock," said Mr. Jones, looking at his watch. "We've been in there three hours, Derrick, and seen some pretty lively times. What I can't understand, though, is how we got in on that lower level. Never mind now; we must run, for I'm anxious about that explosion."
The news of the disaster in the mine had already reached the surface, but nobody knew exactly how or where it had taken place. A crowd of people, including many women and children, was rapidly gathering about the mouth of the slope, anxious to learn tidings of those dear to them who were down in the mine with the night shift.
The voice of the mine boss calling out that the explosion had occurred in an abandoned gangway, and that nobody who was in the new workings was hurt, gave the first intimation of his presence among them. His words carried comfort to the hearts of many who heard them, but filled with dismay the minds of those who had seen him but a short time before at the underground meeting. They had thought he must surely be still in the mine, and could in no way account for his presence, for they knew positively that he had not come up by the slope or the travelling-road.
While the mine boss was speaking, Derrick felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning, he saw Paul Evert, who exclaimed, joyfully, "Oh, Derrick, I'm so glad! I was afraid you were down in the mine, and I was going to help hunt for you."
"No, Polly, I'm all right, as you can see; but I wish you'd run home and tell mother I am—will you?"
Paul went willingly to do this, and Derrick prepared to follow the mine boss once more into the underground depths, to render what assistance he could.
They were about to step into an empty car and start down the slope, when the signal was given from below to pull up a loaded car, and they waited to see what it might contain. As it came slowly to the surface, and within the light of their lamps, they saw in it Monk Tooley and four other miners, who, battered and bruised, had evidently suffered from the explosion.
When the first of these was helped carefully from the car, and his glance fell upon the mine boss, with Derrick Sterling standing beside him, a look of fear came into his face, he uttered a loud cry, staggered back, and would have fallen had not Monk Tooley caught him.
The companions of the Mollie who exhibited such consternation at the sight of the mine boss were almost as frightened as he to see those for whom they had been so recently searching through the old workings, and who they thought must surely have been killed by the explosion, standing before them. They shrunk back as the young man stepped towards them; but reassured by his cheery words, they allowed him to help them from the car, and were almost ready to believe that it was not he, but some other who had confronted them so boldly at the meeting. He could not have been kinder to them if they had been his dear friends; and from that hour they ranked among his firmest supporters and adherents in the colliery.
Derrick caught hold of Monk Tooley, and insisted upon taking him, as he said, to see Bill, and show him that he was all right. In reality he wanted to give the man a chance to rest, and recover somewhat from his recent trying experience, before meeting with his wife and children.
Bill Tooley, under kind care, amid quiet and pleasant surroundings, and aided by his own strong constitution, was in a fair way to recover his health and strength. The fever had left him, and he was able to sit up for a few minutes at a time. The only serious trouble seemed to be with his right leg. It gave him great pain, and was threatened with a permanent lameness. He already seemed a different boy from what he had been, and would hardly be recognized for the bully of a short time before. He gave way to occasional outbursts of impatient anger, but these were always quieted by the gentle presence and soothing words of either Mrs. Sterling or little Helen; and in his rough way he would express sorrow for them by saying, "Don't yer mind me, mum; I don' mean nothin'; only dis ere blessed leg gits de best of me sometimes." Or to Helen, "Don't yer be afeared, sissy; I know I talks awful ugly; but I ain't. It's only de pain of de leg breakin' out in bad words."
The meeting between father and son that night, when Derrick persuaded Monk Tooley to go home with him, was curious to witness. Bill was as fond of his father, in his way, as the latter was of him, and had been very anxious when he knew he was in the mine at the time of the explosion. Both were much affected when Monk stepped to his son's bedside; but they had no words to express their feelings. The father said,
"Well, lad, how goes it?"
Bill answered, "Middlin', feyther. I heerd yer got blowed up."
"Well, yer see I didn't. Job Taskar's killed, though."
"Better him nor anoder."
"Yes. Yer want ter be gittin' outen dis, son. Times is hard, an' idlin's expensive."
"All right, feyther; I'll soon be in de breaker agin."
This was all; but the two were assured of each other's safety and well-being, and for them that was enough.
Monk Tooley accepted a cup of tea from Mrs. Sterling, and departed with a very warm feeling in his heart towards those who were doing so much for his boy.
His wife and the neighbor women, who as usual were gathered in her house, were loud in their exclamations of pleasure and wonder at seeing him safe home again from "the blowing up of the mine," but he gruffly bade them "be quiet, and not be making all that gabble about a trifle."
The mine boss took an early opportunity to examine the plans of the old workings, and soon discovered the slight difference between them and Derrick's tracing that they had followed in their recent expedition. Summoning the boy, he pointed it out, and asked him whether he had made a mistake in copying the plan, or had purposely made the alteration that had led to such serious consequences.
Derrick confessed that he had added a little to one line of the plan, because he thought the line was intended to go that way, and when he drew it so it seemed to make everything come out all right.
"Well," said Mr. Jones, "the result shows that instead of making everything come out all right, you made it come all wrong. Now, Derrick, I want this to be a lesson that you will remember all your life. By making that one little bit of a change in a single line you placed yourself and me in great peril. In consequence of the situation to which it led one man has lost his life, and several others came very near doing so. You thought you knew better than your father who drew that plan, and in your ignorance undertook to improve upon his work.
"I won't say that good may not come out of all this, for I believe that with the loss of their leader the society of Mollies is broken up, in this colliery at least, for some time to come, but that does not make your fault any the less.
"Remember, my boy," he added, somewhat more gently, as he saw great tears rolling down the lad's cheeks, "that the little things of this life lead to and make up its great events, and it is only by paying the closest attention to them that we can ever hope to achieve good results."
This was all that was ever said to Derrick upon this subject, but it was enough, and he will never forget it. When he left the presence of the mine boss he was overwhelmed with shame, and was angry to think that what he considered so trifling a thing as to be unworthy of mention should be treated so seriously. For an hour he walked alone through the woods back of the village, and gave himself up to bitter thoughts. Gradually he began to realize that every word the mine boss had said was true, and to see what he had done in its proper light. He thought of all the kindness Mr. Jones had shown him, and the confidence reposed in him. Finally he broke out with, "I have been a conceited fool, and now I know it. If I ever catch Derrick Sterling getting into a scrape of this kind again for want of paying attention to little things, or by thinking he knows more than anybody else, he'll hear from me, that's all."
This was only a vague threat, but it meant a great deal, and from that day to this neither of these failings has been noticed in the young miner, even by those most intimately acquainted with him.
Nearly two weeks after this, upon returning home one evening from his day's work in the mine, Derrick found a message from Mr. Jones awaiting him. It asked him to call that evening, as the mine boss wished to see and consult him upon business of importance.
Mrs. Sterling was greatly pleased at this, for it showed that her boy still enjoyed the confidence of the man who had it in his power to do so much for him, and that his favor was not withdrawn in consequence of the recent affair of the tracing. Derrick had told his mother the whole story, without making any effort to shield himself from blame; and though she had trembled at the resulting consequences of his fault, and the knowledge of how much worse they might have been, she had rejoiced at the manner in which he accepted its lesson. She had only feared that Mr. Jones, upon whom so much depended, would never trust her boy again, or take him into his confidence as he had done.
Derrick was made equally happy by the message; for since the day on which the mine boss had pointed out the weak spot in his character, and delivered his little lecture on the wickedness of neglecting details, he had held no conversation with him. He made haste to finish his supper, wondering all the while, with his mother and Bill Tooley, who was now able to sit at the table with them, what the business could be.
"There's some ladies over there," said little Helen; "they came to-day, and I saw them."
"Where?" asked Derrick.
"At Mr. Jones's."
Now as the young mine boss was a bachelor, and lived alone, with the exception of an old negro servant, this was startling information, and her hearers thought Helen must have made some mistake. However, on the chance that she might be right, Derrick was more particular than usual in getting rid of every particle of grime and coal-dust, and dressed himself in his best clothes. These, though much worn, nearly outgrown, and even mended in several places, were scrupulously neat, and made him appear the young gentleman he really was.
Although Derrick had been away to boarding-school, and was very differently brought up from the other boys of the village, he was not at all accustomed to society, especially that of ladies, and he felt extremely diffident at the prospect of meeting these strangers, if indeed Helen's report were true.
As he approached the house of the mine boss he saw that it was more brilliantly lighted than usual, and just as he reached the door a shadow, apparently that of a young girl, moved across one of the white window-shades.
Instead of ringing the bell the boy walked rapidly on, with a quickly beating heart, for some distance past the house.
"Supposing it should be a girl," he thought to himself, "I should never dare say anything to her, and she'd find it out in a minute; then she'd make fun of me. I wish I knew whether I was going to see them, or see Mr. Jones alone. I hope he won't make me go in and be introduced."
Undoubtedly Derrick was bashful, and while he had apparently been brave in the burning breaker, and in various trying situations, was only a coward after all.
Again he approached the house, and again he walked hurriedly past it. As he turned and walked towards it for the third time somebody came rapidly from the opposite direction, and stopped at the very door he was afraid to enter. They reached it at the same moment, and the somebody recognizing him, said heartily, "Ah, Derrick, is that you? I'm glad I got back in time. I was unexpectedly detained by business, and feared you might get here before me. Walk in."
There was no help for it now. Wishing with all his heart that he were safely at home, or down in the mine, or anywhere but where he was, and trembling with nervousness, Derrick found himself a moment later inside the house, and—alone with Mr. Jones in the library.
"Sit down, Derrick," said the latter, as he stood in front of the fireplace. "I have sent for you to ask you to help me out of a sort of a scrape."
So he was not to be asked to meet strange ladies or girls after all, and his fears were groundless. What a goose he had been! Why should he be afraid of a girl anyhow? she wouldn't bite him. These and other similar thoughts flashed through Derrick's mind as he tried to listen to Mr. Jones, and to overcome a feeling of disappointment that in spite of his efforts presently filled his mind.
"It is this," continued the mine boss. "For some time past my only sister, Mrs. Halford, who lives in Philadelphia, has been threatening to bring her daughter Nellie on a trip through the Lehigh Valley into the coal region to see me, and be taken down into a mine. They arrived unexpectedly this afternoon, and have got to return home the day after to-morrow; so to-morrow is the only opportunity they will have for visiting the mine. Of course I had made arrangements to take them around, and show them everything there is to be seen; but now I find I can't do it. Two hours ago I received a telegram telling me that an important case, in which I am the principal witness, is to be tried in Mauch Chunk to-morrow, and I must be there without fail. Now I want you to take my place, act as guide to the ladies, and show them all the sights of interest about the colliery, both above-ground and in the mine. Will you do this for me?"
Derrick hesitated, blushed, stammered, turned first hot and then cold, until Mr. Jones, who was watching him with an air of surprise and amusement, laughed outright.
"What is the matter?" he asked at length. "Ain't I offering you a pleasanter job than that of driving a bumping-mule all day?"
"No, sir—I mean yes, sir; of course I will, sir," said Derrick, finally recovering his voice. "Only don't you think one of the older men—"
"Oh, nonsense! You're old enough, and know the colliery well enough. I don't want them taken through the old workings," added Mr. Jones, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"If you did, sir, I believe I could guide them as well as anybody!" exclaimed Derrick, with all his self-possession restored, together with a touch of his old self-conceit.
"I haven't a doubt of it," answered the other. "Now, if it's all settled that you are to act as their escort to-morrow, step into the parlor and let me introduce you to the ladies."
With this he threw open the door connecting the two rooms, and said, "Sister, this is Derrick Sterling, of whom I have spoken to you so often, and who will act as your guide in my place to-morrow. Derrick, this is my sister, Mrs. Halford, and my niece, Miss Nellie."
Poor Derrick felt very much as he had done when, with the same companion, he had been unexpectedly ushered into the meeting of the Mollie Maguires, and, as on that occasion, his impulse was to run away. Before he had a chance to do anything so foolish, a motherly-looking woman, evidently older than Mr. Jones, but bearing a strong resemblance to him, stepped forward, and taking the boy by the hand, said, "I am very glad to meet you, Derrick, for my brother has told me what a brave fellow you are, and that he feels perfectly safe in trusting us to your guidance to-morrow."
Then Miss Nellie, a pretty girl of about his own age, whose eyes twinkled with mischief, held out her hand, and said, "I think you must be a regular hero, Mr. Sterling, for I'm sure you've been through as much as most of the book heroes I've read about."
Blushing furiously at this, and coloring a still deeper scarlet from the knowledge that he was blushing, and that they were all looking at him, Derrick barely touched the tips of the little fingers held out to him. Then thinking that this perhaps seemed rude, he made another attempt to grasp the offered hand more heartily, but it was so quickly withdrawn that this time he did not touch it at all, whereupon everybody laughed good-naturedly.
Instead of further embarrassing the boy, this laugh had the effect of setting him at his ease, and in another minute he was chatting as pleasantly with Miss Nellie and her mother as though they had been old friends.
Before he left them it was arranged that, early in the morning, he should show the ladies all that was to be seen above-ground, and that they should spend the heat of the day in the cool depths of the mine.
The boy had much to tell his mother, little Helen, and Bill Tooley, who were sitting up waiting for him, when he arrived home; but, after all, he left them to wonder over the age of Miss Halford, whom he only casually mentioned as Mr. Jones's niece.
When Derrick awoke the next morning, at an unusually early hour, it was with the impression that some great pleasure was in store for him. Before breakfast he went down into the mine to give Harry Mule's sleek coat an extra rub, and to arrange for another boy and mule to take their places that day.
At eight o'clock he presented himself at the door of Mr. Jones's house, dressed in clean blue blouse and overalls, but wearing his smoke-blackened cap and the heavy boots that are so necessary in the wet underground passages of a mine. The mine boss had already gone to Mauch Chunk, and Miss Nellie was watching behind some half-closed shutters for the appearance of their young guide.
"Here he is, mamma!" she exclaimed, as she finally caught sight of Derrick. "How funnily he is dressed! but what a becoming suit it is! it makes him look so much more manly. Why don't he ring the bell, I wonder? He's standing staring at the door as though he expected it to open of itself. Ahem!ahem!"
This sound, coming faintly to Derrick's ear, seemed to banish his hesitation, for the next instant the bell was rung furiously. The truth is he had been seized with another diffident fit, and had it not been broad daylight he would probably have walked back and forth in front of the door several times before screwing up his courage to the bell-ringing point.
The door was opened before the bell had stopped jingling, and an anxious voice inquired, "Is it fire?" Then Miss Nellie, apparently seeing the visitor for the first time, exclaimed, with charming simplicity,
"Oh no! Excuse me. I see it's only you, Mr. Sterling. How stupid of me! Won't you walk in? I thought perhaps it was something serious."
"Only I, and I wish it was somebody else," thought bashful Derrick, as, in obedience to this invitation, he stepped inside the door. Leaving him standing there, Miss Mischief ran up-stairs to tell her mother, in so loud a tone that he could plainly hear her, that Mr. Sterling had come for them, and was evidently in an awful hurry.
"I'm in for a perfectly horrid time," said poor Derrick to himself. "I can see plain enough that she means to make fun of me all day."
Mrs. Halford's kind greeting and ready tact made the boy feel more at ease, and before they reached the new breaker—the first place to which he carried them—he felt that perhaps he might not be going to have such a very unpleasant day after all.
Both Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie were greatly interested in watching the machinery of the breaker and the quick work of the slate-picker boys; but in spite of the jigs and the wet chutes the coal-dust was so thick that they did not feel able to remain there more than a few minutes.
As they came out Mrs. Halford said, "Poor little fellows! What a terribly hard life they must lead!"
"Yes, Mamma, it's awful," said Miss Nellie. "And don't they look just like little negro minstrels? I don't see, though, how they ever tell the slate from the coal. It all looks exactly alike to me."
"The slate isn't so black as the coal," explained Derrick, "and doesn't have the same shine."
They walked out over the great dump, and the ladies were amazed at its extent.
"Why, it seems as if every bit of slate, and coal too, ever dug in the mine must be piled up here!" exclaimed Miss Nellie.
"Oh no," said Derrick, "only about half the product of the mine is waste, and only part of that comes up here. A great quantity is dumped into the old breasts down in the workings to fill them up, and at the same time to get rid of it easily."
"But isn't there a great deal of coal that would burn in this mountain of refuse?" asked the girl.
"Yes, indeed, there is; and sometimes the piles get on fire, and then they seem to burn forever."
"I have an acquaintance in Philadelphia," said Mrs. Halford, "who has been trying experiments with the dust of these waste heaps. He pressed it in egg-shaped moulds, and has succeeded in making capital stove coal from it. The process is at present too expensive to be profitable, but I have no doubt that cheaper methods will be discovered, and that within a few years these culm piles will become valuable."
"What's the use of bothering with it when there's an inexhaustible supply of coal in the ground?" asked Miss Nellie.
"But there isn't," answered Derrick. "This coal region only covers a limited area, and some time every bit of fuel will be taken out of it. I have heard that it is the only place in the world where anthracite has been found. Isn't it, Mrs. Halford?"
"I believe so," answered that lady; "or at least the only place in which anthracite of such fine quality as this has been discovered. Inferior grades of hard coal are mined in several other localities, and bituminous or soft coal exists almost everywhere."
From the culm pile they went to see the great pumping-engine, and the huge fans that act as lungs to the mine, constantly forcing out the foul air and compelling fresh to enter it. Then, as the day was growing warm, they did not care to go any farther, but went back towards the house to prepare for their descent into the mine.
On their way they stopped to call on Mrs. Sterling at Derrick's home, which, covered with its climbing vines, offered a pleasing contrast to the unpainted, bare-looking houses lining the village street beyond it. Here both Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie were greatly interested in Bill Tooley, of whom they had already heard. He could not be induced to enter into conversation with them, merely answering, "yes, 'm" or "no, 'm" to their questions; but from what he said after they had gone he evidently thought their call was intended solely for him. For a long time he cherished it in his memory, and often spoke of it as a most wonderful event.
Derrick took this opportunity to secure his lunch-pail and water-can, which he slung by their chains over his shoulder. When the ladies had prepared themselves for their mine expedition, he was amused to see that Miss Nellie was similarly equipped, she having found and appropriated those belonging to her uncle. Both the ladies wore old dresses, and India-rubber boots, which they had brought with them for this very purpose, and both were provided with waterproof cloaks.
At the mouth of the slope Derrick said something through a speaking-tube that reached down into the mine. Directly the clang of a gong was heard in the breaker above them, and the great wire cable, extending its vast length between the rails of the tracks, began to move. Two minutes later a new coal-car, one of a lot that had been delivered in the mine the day before, and had not yet been used, was drawn up out of the blackness to the mouth of the slope, and stopped in front of them. Some hay had been thrown into the bottom, and as the ladies were helped in, Miss Nellie exclaimed that it looked as though they were going on a straw-ride.
Handing each of them a lighted lantern to carry, and lighting the lamp on his cap, Derrick tugged at the wire leading to the distant engine-room, and gave the signal to lower. The car at once began to move, and as they felt themselves going almost straight down into the blackness between the wet, glistening walls of the slope, and were chilled by the cold breath of the mine, the mother and daughter clung to each other apprehensively.
At first they looked back and watched the little patch of daylight at the mouth of the slope grow rapidly smaller and more indistinct, until it looked almost like a star. Then Derrick warned them that there was danger of hitting their heads against the low roof, and said they must hold them below the sides of the car. When next they lifted them they were amid the wonders of the underground world, in the great chamber at the foot of the slope. They were surrounded by a darkness that was only made the more intense at a short distance from them by the glimmering lights of a group of miners who had gathered to watch their arrival. Here Derrick left them while he ran to the stable to get his mule.
The ladies did not get out of the car, but stood in it after the cable had been cast off, and watched the loaded coal-wagons as, one at a time, they were pushed to the foot of the slope, and quickly drawn up out of sight. During this interval their eyes gradually became accustomed to the lamp-lit darkness, so that they could see much better than at first.
In a few minutes their young guide returned, leading Harry Mule, whose swinging collar-lamp and wondering expression struck Miss Nellie as so comical that she could not help laughing at him.
"Haw! he-haw, he-haw, he-haw!" brayed Harry Mule, in answer to the unaccustomed sound; and at this greeting the girl laughed more heartily than ever.
The mule was hitched to the car, Derrick sprang in front, cracked the whip that had hung about his neck, and they started on what, to two of them at least, was the most novel ride they had ever undertaken.
When they reached his stable Harry Mule stopped short and refused to go on.
"What is the matter?" asked Miss Nellie.
"I expect he wants us to go in and see his house," answered Derrick.
"Why, I never heard of such a funny mule. Do you suppose he knows we are visitors?"
"Of course he does," answered the boy, gravely; "and he knows that visitors always want to see the mine stable."
So they all went in to look at it. In the long, low, narrow chamber, hewn from solid rock, were thirty stalls. Several of them were occupied by spare mules, who turned an inquiring gaze at the visitors, and blinked in the light of their lanterns. At one end were bales of hay and bags of oats, while just outside the door stood a long water-trough, which, as mine water is unfit for use, was supplied from above-ground through iron pipes brought down the slope. In spite of living in a continual midnight, so far from pastures and the light of day, which some of them did not see from one year's end to another, these mine mules were fat and sleek, and appeared perfectly contented with their lot.
Apparently satisfied that justice had been done to his place of abode, Harry Mule offered no further objection to moving on, when they again got into the car, and the stable was quickly left behind.
By-and-by Derrick called out "Door!"
As it opened for them to pass, and Paul Evert recognized his friend, he cried, "Oh, Derrick, Socrates—" Then seeing the visitors, he stopped abruptly, and stared at them in confusion.
"Never mind, Polly; we'll be back pretty soon," shouted Derrick, as the car rolled on, "and then you can tell us all about it."
"What did he say?" inquired Mrs. Halford.
"I didn't quite understand," replied Derrick; "but, if you don't mind, we'll go back there after a while and eat our lunch with Polly—he'd be so pleased!—and then we'll ask him."
"Who is Polly?" asked Miss Nellie.
"He's Paul Evert, my best friend, and he's a cripple."
"Oh, he's the boy you saved from the burning breaker! Yes, indeed, mamma, let's go back and eat our lunch with him."
Mrs. Halford agreed to this, and after they had visited the blacksmith's shop, where a cheery young fellow named Aleck was installed in Job Taskar's place, they went back to Paul's station.
Both the ladies were charmed with the gentle simplicity and quaintness of the crippled lad, and he thought he had never been so happy as in acting the part of host to this underground picnic party. He showed them all the strange and beautiful pictures on the walls of the gangway, and Derrick managed to break off for them a couple of thin scales of slate on which were impressed the delicate outlines of fern leaves.
Mrs. Halford sat in Paul's arm-chair, and he made a bench of the tally-board for Miss Nellie. The two boys were content to sit on the railway track, and each ate out of his or her own lunch-pail.
All at once Paul said, "'Sh! There they are! See!"
At this the visitors looked in the direction indicated, and both screamed.
"Oh, you've frightened them away!" said Paul, regretfully.
"Why, I do believe they were rats!" cried Mrs. Halford, in a tone of great surprise.
"Of course they were," answered Paul—"my rat Socrates and Mrs. Socrates and a whole lot of little Soc rats. I meant to tell you, Derrick; he brought them out this morning, his wife and a family of such cunning little fellows."
When the ladies had heard the whole story of Socrates the rat, and how wise he was, they became greatly interested, and wished he would appear again.
"He will," said Paul, "if we only keep quiet. He's too wise to stay away at lunch-time, but he don't like loud talking."
So they all kept very quiet, and sure enough the rat did come back after a little while, and sitting upon his hind-legs, gravely surveyed the party. In the gloom behind him could be seen the shining beady eyes of some members of his family, who made comical attempts to sit up as he did.
Being duly fed, they all scampered away with squeaks of thanks, and soon afterwards Harry Mule broke up the picnic by coming jingling back from his stable, to which he had been sent for dinner.
"I think he is just the very dearest old mule I ever saw," said Miss Nellie, when they were once more seated in the car, and Harry, was taking them towards a distant heading.
"Yes, indeed, he is," answered Derrick, proud to hear his mule thus praised; "and I love him as much as—as he loves me," he finished, with a laugh.
They spent several hours in visiting different parts of the mine, and becoming acquainted with all the details of its many operations. At the end of one heading they found the miners who had just finished drilling a hole deep in the wall of coal beyond them, and were about to fire a blast. The visitors were intensely interested in watching their operations. First a cartridge of stiff brown paper and powder was made. The paper was rolled into the shape of a long cylinder, about as big round as a broom-handle, the end of a fuse was inserted in the powder with which it was filled, and the cartridge was thrust into the hole just prepared for it. Then it was tamped with clay, the fuse was lighted, the miners uttered loud cries of "Blast ho!" and everybody ran away to a safe distance.
In less than a minute came a dull roar that echoed and re-echoed through the long galleries. It was followed by a great upheaval of coal, a dense cloud of smoke, and the blast was safely over.
These miners had a loaded car ready to be hauled away. One of them asked Derrick if he would mind hitching it on behind his empty car, and drawing it to the junction, adding that the boy who had taken his place that day was too slow to live.
"All right," said Derrick. "I guess we can take it for you."
So, with two cars instead of one to pull, Harry Mule was started towards the junction. On the way they had to pass through a door in charge of a boy who had only come into the mine that day. This door opened towards them, and they approached it on a slightly descending grade.
As they drew near to it, with Harry Mule trotting briskly along, Derrick shouted, "Door!"
Again he shouted, louder than before, "Door! door! Holloa there! what's the matter?"
The little door-tender, unaccustomed to the utter silence and solitude of the situation, sat fast asleep in his chair. At last Derrick's frantic shoutings roused him, and he sprang to his feet, but too late. A crash, a wild cry, and poor Harry Mule lay on the floor of the gangway, crushed between the heavy cars and the solid, immovable door!
Mrs. Halford and her daughter were flung rudely forward to the end of the car by the shock of the collision, and were, of course, badly frightened, as well as considerably shaken up and somewhat bruised. They were not seriously hurt, however, and with Derrick's assistance they got out of the car and stood on the door-tender's platform.
Derrick sent the boy who had been so sleepy, but who was now wide-awake and crying with fright, back to ask the miners they had just left to come to their assistance. Then he turned his attention to Harry Mule. The poor beast was not dead, but was evidently badly injured. He was jammed so tightly between the cars and the door that he could not move, and the light of Derrick's lamp disclosed several ugly-looking cuts in his body, from which blood was flowing freely.
The tears streamed down the boy's face as he witnessed the suffering of his dumb friend, and realized how powerless he was to do anything to relieve it. He was not a bit ashamed of these signs of grief when he felt a light touch on his arm, and turning, saw Nellie Halford, with eyes also full of tears, standing beside him, and gazing pityingly at the mule.
"Will he die, do you think?" she asked.
"I don't know, but I'm afraid so, or that he's too badly hurt to be made well again, and so will have to be killed."
"No, he sha'n't be killed. My uncle sha'n't let him. If he does, I'll never love him again!" exclaimed Miss Nellie, with determined energy. "Poor old mule! poor Harry! you shall have everything in the world done for you if you only won't die," she added, stooping and patting the animal's head with her soft hand.
Feebly lifting his head and pricking forward his great ears, Harry Mule opened his eyes, and looked at the girl for a moment so earnestly that she almost thought he was going to speak to her. Then the big, wondering eyes were closed again, and the shaggy head sank on the wet roadway, but Nellie felt that she had been thanked for her pitying words and gentle touch.
After a while the little door-tender came hurrying back, followed by the men for whom he had been sent. They were much excited over the accident, on account of the character of the visitors who had been sufferers from it, and were inclined to use very harsh language towards the boy whose neglect of duty had caused it. This, however, was prevented by Mrs. Halford, who declared she would not have the little fellow abused. She said it was a burning shame that children of his age were allowed in the mines at all, and it was no wonder they went to sleep, after sitting all alone for hours without anything to occupy their thoughts, in that awful darkness and silence.
The loaded car proved so heavy that it had to be unloaded before it could be moved. Then the empty car was pushed back from Harry Mule, and he made a frantic struggle to regain his feet. After several unsuccessful attempts he finally succeeded, and stood trembling in the roadway. It was now seen that he had the use of only three legs, and an examination showed his right fore-leg to be broken.
"He'll never do no more work in this mine," said one of the men. "The poor beast will have to be killed."
"He sha'n't be killed! He sha'n't, I say. We won't have him killed; will we, mother?" cried Nellie Halford, her voice trembling with emotion.
"No, dear, not if anything we can do will prevent it," answered the mother, gently.
"Don't you think," continued the girl, turning to Derrick, "that he might be mended if anybody would take the time and trouble?"
"Yes, I think he might, because there is a mule at work in the mine now that had a broken leg, and they cured him. He was a young mule, though. I'm afraid they won't bother with one so old as Harry."
"He's listening to every word we say," interrupted the girl, "and I do believe he understands too. Just look at him!"
The wounded mule was standing in a dejected attitude on the very spot where he had been so badly hurt; but his patient face, with its big eyes, was turned inquiringly towards them, and it did seem as though he were listening anxiously to the conversation about himself.
He managed to limp a few steps away from the door, so that it could be opened, and was then left in charge of the little door-tender, who was instructed to keep him as still as possible.
After the miners had given the empty car a start, Derrick found that he could keep it in motion, and undertook to push it as far as the junction, Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie following on foot. The two miners remained upon the scene of the accident to refill the car they had been compelled to unload.
The ladies and Derrick had gone but a short distance when they heard, faintly, through the closed door behind them, a plaintive "Haw, he-haw, he-haw, he-haw."
As Nellie Halford said, it sounded exactly as though poor dear old Harry Mule were begging them not to leave him.
They had nearly reached the junction when a cheery voice rang out of the gloom ahead of them, saying,
"Holloa there! where's your mule? and where's your light? You wouldn't run over a stranger, would you?"
"I'm the mule," replied Derrick, as, panting and perspiring with his exertions, he looked around a rear corner of the car to see who was coming.
"Why, Derrick, is that you?" inquired the voice, in a tone of great surprise. "What has happened? where are the ladies?"
"Oh, Warren!" exclaimed Mrs. Halford, from somewhere back in the darkness, "I'm so thankful to see—I mean to hear—you. Here we are."
"But I don't understand," said Mr. Jones, for it was he who had so unexpectedly come to their assistance. "What is the meaning of all this? Where's the bumping-mule?"
"We had a collision with a door," explained Miss Nellie, "and poor Harry Mule got crushed. His leg's broken, and he's all cut up. But oh, Uncle Warren, you won't have him killed, will you?"
"I can't promise until I find out how badly he is injured."
"Oh, but you must, Uncle Warren. If you have him killed, I'll never love you again," insisted Miss Nellie, repeating the threat she had already made.
"Well, dear, I'll promise this: he shall not be killed unless I can show you that it is the best thing to be done, and you give your consent."
"Then he'll live to be an old, old mule!" cried Miss Nellie, joyfully; "for I'll never, never consent to have him killed."
As the ladies once more got into the car, and the mine boss helped Derrick push it towards the junction, Mrs. Halford said, "How do you happen to be back so early, Warren? I thought you were to be gone all day."
"Why, so I have been," he answered, with some surprise. "Don't you call from six o'clock in the morning to nearly the same hour of the evening all day?"
"You don't mean to say that it is nearly six o'clock?"
"I do; for that witching hour is certainly near at hand."
"Well, I never knew a day to pass so quickly in my life. I didn't suppose it was more than three o'clock, at the latest."
"It is, though; and to understand how time passes down in a mine, you have but to remember two often quoted sayings. One is, 'Time is money,' and the other, 'Money vanishes down the throat of a mine more quickly than smoke up a chimney.' Ergo, time vanishes quickly down in a mine. Is not that a good bit of logic for you?"
Both the ladies laughed at this nonsense, but it served to divert their minds from the painful scene they had just witnessed, and therefore accomplished its purpose.
From the junction Mr. Jones sent some men back to get Harry Mule and take him to the stable, where his injuries could be examined and his wounds dressed. He also ordered a report to be made concerning them that evening. Then the ladies' car was attached to a train of loaded coal-wagons, and the party were thus taken to the foot of the slope.
As the great wire cable began to strain, and they started slowly up the slope towards the outer world, both Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie looked back regretfully into the mysterious depths behind them.
"I wouldn't have believed that in a few hours this awful place could exercise such a fascination over me," said the former. "I really hate to leave it, and wish we were coming down again to-morrow."
"So do I," exclaimed Miss Nellie; "and if I were a boy, I'd study to be an engineer, and spend my life down among the 'black diamonds' of the coal-mines."
Did this girl know of the hopes and ambitions of the boy who sat beside her? This question flashed through his mind; but he quickly answered it for himself: "Of course not, Derrick Sterling. What a fool you are to fancy such a thing! She only knows and thinks of you, if she thinks of you at all, as a mule-driver, such as she has seen a dozen of to-day."
Although the sun had set when they reached the top of the slope, and a breeze was blowing, the outer air felt oppressively warm after that of the mine, and the ladies became suddenly aware of a weariness they had not before felt.
Derrick was made very happy, and almost forgot for a time his sadness at Harry Mule's pitiable condition, when Mr. Jones invited him to come and take tea with them. Joyfully accepting the invitation, the lad hastened home to change his clothes, and the others, walking more slowly gazed after him.
"I think he's splendid!" exclaimed Miss Nellie, with the outspoken decision that generally marked the expression of her thoughts; "and I do hope he will have a chance to become a mining engineer."
"He will, if he keeps on trying for it as he has begun," said her uncle. "Any boy, no matter if he is born and brought up a gentleman, as Derrick Sterling certainly was, who goes in at the very bottom of any business, determined to climb to the top, will find a way to do it."
"I like to see a boy not ashamed to do dirty work, if that is what his duty calls him to do," said Mrs. Halford. "He comes out all the brighter and cleaner by contrast when the dirt is washed off."
If Derrick's right ear did not burn and tingle with all this praise, it ought to have done so; but perhaps he was too busy telling the exciting news of the day at home to notice it.
He did not walk past the Jones's house, nor hesitate before ringing the door-bell on this occasion, as he had the evening before, but stepped up to it with all the boldness of one who was about to meet and greet old acquaintances. Besides, his mind was too full of the sad fate that had befallen his mule to admit of more than the briefest consideration of personal feelings.
At the supper-table the conversation was wholly of mines, collieries, and the perils of miners' lives, in regard to which Mr. Jones related a number of interesting incidents.
"How wonderful it is!" said Miss Nellie, who had listened to all this with eager attention. "Who first discovered coal, anyway, Uncle Warren? and how did people find out that it would burn?"
"If you mean who discovered anthracite coal, I believe the credit is generally given to a man named Philip Gunter, who lived in a cabin on the side of a mountain not far from where we are now sitting. He was a hunter; and the story goes that one day in the year 1791 he had been out hunting for many hours, without securing any game, which made him feel very badly, for when he left home that morning there was no food in the house. Towards night he was returning, greatly depressed in spirits, and paying so little heed to his footsteps that he stumbled and fell over some obstacle. Stooping to see what it was, he found a black stone, different from any he had ever before noticed. He had, however, heard of stone coal, and thought perhaps this might be a lump of that substance. Having nothing else to carry, he decided to take it home as a curiosity. Soon afterwards he gave it to a friend, who sent it to Philadelphia, where it was pronounced to be genuine coal. A few gentlemen became interested in this discovery, and formed themselves in the 'Lehigh Coal-mine Company.' A mine was opened, and four laborers were employed to work it; but as there was no way of getting the coal they mined to market they were soon discharged, and the project was abandoned for the time being.
"Nothing further was done until 1817, when Colonel George Shoemaker, of Pottsville, took four wagon-loads of anthracite coal to Philadelphia, and tried to sell it there. People laughed at him for telling them that those black stones would burn; but he guaranteed that they would. Upon this a number of persons bought small quantities on trial; but all their efforts failed to set it on fire. Then they became very angry, and tried to have Colonel Shoemaker thrown into prison for cheating them. He fled from the city, pursued by officers who held warrants for his arrest. Finally he managed to elude them, and reached his home, thoroughly disgusted with coal, and ready to swear that he would have nothing more to do with it.
"In the mean time a lot of the black stones had been purchased for trial by the Fairmount Nail-works. It was placed in one of the furnaces, and the proprietor spent a whole morning with his men in trying to make the stuff burn. They were unsuccessful, and finally, completely disheartened by their failure, they shut the furnace door and went off to dinner, uttering loud threats against the man who had sold them such worthless trash. Upon their return to the works they were filled with amazement, for the furnace door was red hot, and a fire of the most intense heat was roaring and blazing behind it. Since that time there has been no difficulty in selling anthracite coal nor in making it burn. Now the production of coal in this country has reached such enormous proportions that its annual value is equal to that of all the gold, silver, and iron mined in the United States during the year."
Just here Mr. Jones was interrupted by the arrival of the report of Harry Mule's condition. It was very brief, and pronounced the animal to be so badly injured, and his chances of recovery so slight, that it would cost more to attempt to cure him than he was worth.
"Now what am I to do about him?" asked Mr. Jones.
"I want to buy that mule, Warren," said Mrs. Halford.
"Please give him to me," pleaded Miss Nellie.
"I should like to have a chance to try and cure him," said Derrick; and all these requests were made at once.
Mr. Jones looked at them with a puzzled smile, thought a moment, and then said, "All right: I will sell him to you, sister, for one cent, provided you will give him to Nellie, and that she will leave him with Derrick to care for and cure if he can."
"That's a splendid plan!" cried Miss Nellie.
"Have you any place in which to take care of him?" asked Mrs. Halford of Derrick.
"Yes," answered the boy, "we have a little empty stable back of our house that will make a tip-top mule hospital."
"Then it's a bargain, Warren; and if you take care of him, Derrick, you must let me pay all the doctor's bills, and furnish all necessary hay, corn, and oats."
Thus it was decided that Harry Mule should be restored to health and usefulness, if money, skill, and kind care could do it.
Before Derrick left, the mine boss said to him, "Now that there is no Harry Mule for you to drive, I am going to promote you, and let you work with Tom Evert as his helper. In that position you will gain a thoroughly practical knowledge of mining. You may report to him to-morrow."
As it was impossible for Harry Mule to climb the gigantic stairway of the travelling-road, his legs were bound so that he could not move them, a platform was laid across two coal-cars from which the sides had been removed, and he was placed on this, and firmly lashed to it. In this manner he was drawn to the top of the slope, and from there he managed to limp, though with great difficulty and very slowly, to the little stable behind the Sterlings' house.
Here, by order of the mine boss, carpenters had been at work since early morning making a roomy box-stall in place of two small ones, and providing it with a broad sling of strong canvas, which was hung from eye-bolts inserted in beams overhead. This was passed beneath the mule's belly, and drawn so that while he could stand on three legs if he wished, he could also rest the whole weight of his body upon it.
After Harry Mule was thus made as comfortable as possible, a skilful veterinary surgeon set his broken leg, and bound it so firmly with splints that it could not possibly move. He also sewed up the cuts on various parts of the animal's body, and said that with good care he thought the patient might recover, though his leg would probably always be stiff.
These operations occupied the attention of Mr. Jones, the Halfords, and the Sterling family, including Derrick, until noon, when it was time for Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie to take the train for Philadelphia.
Before leaving, Mrs. Halford had an interview with Bill Tooley, who was now able to hobble about with the aid of a crutch. She said that if he would, under Derrick's direction, take care of Harry Mule, and see that all his wants were promptly supplied until he got well, she would pay him the same wages that he could earn by working in the breaker.
Of course Bill gratefully accepted this offer; and either because he had a feeling of sympathy for an animal that was suffering in much the same way that he was, or because his own trials and the kindness shown him had really softened his nature, he proved a capital and most attentive nurse.
Often after this, when Derrick entered the stable unexpectedly, he discovered these two cripples engaged in conversation. At least he would find Bill Tooley perched on the edge of the manger, where he balanced himself with his crutch, talking in his uncouth way to the mule; while the latter, with great ears pricked forward, and wondering eyes fixed unwinkingly upon the speaker, seemed to pay most earnest attention to all that he said.
As Derrick watched the train bearing his recently made friends roll away from the little station, and disappear around a sharp curve in the valley, he experienced a feeling of sadness, for which he was at first unable to account. In thinking it over, he decided that it was because he felt sorry to have anybody go away who had been so kind to his much-loved bumping-mule.
Turning away from the station, he walked slowly back to the mouth of the slope, jumped into an empty car, and was lowered into the mine.
Why did the place appear so strange to him? All the interest, of which it had seemed so full but the day before, was gone from it, and Derrick felt that he hated these underground delvings. A feeling of dread came over him as he started along one of the gangways in search of Tom Evert, to whom he had been ordered to report for duty. The air seemed close and suffocating, and the lamps to burn with a more sickly flame than usual. To the boy the faces of the miners looked haggard, and their voices sounded unnaturally harsh. He overheard one of them say, "Ay, she's working, there's no doubt o' that; but it's naught to worrit over; just a bit settlin' into place like."
Derrick wondered, as he passed out of hearing, what the man meant; and as he wondered he was startled by a sharp report like the crack of a rifle, only much louder, and a horrible grinding, crushing sound that came from the rock wall of the gangway close beside him. The sound filled him with such terror that he fled from it, running at full speed through the black, dripping gallery. He ran until he came to a group of miners who were strengthening the roof with additional props and braces of new timber. He told them of his fright, and they laughed at him.
"He's heerd t' mine a-talking, and got skeert at her voice," said one.
"She's allus a-cracklin' an' a-sputterin' when she's uneasy and workin' hersel' comfortable like; don't ye know that, lad? It's only a 'squeeze.' Sich noises means naught but warnin's to put in a few new timbers here and there," explained another, more kindly. He was an old man, in that his cheeks were sunken and his hair was gray, though he had lived less than forty years. This is counted old among miners, for their terrible life and the constant inhaling of coal-dust ages them very rapidly. Seeing him thus aged, and feeling that he would be less likely to ridicule him than the others, Derrick ventured to ask him if there was really any danger of a general caving in of that part of the mine.
"Hoot, lad! there's allus danger in t' mine," was the reply. "But if ye mean is there more now than ordinary, I'd answer ye 'No.' It's a common thing this squeezing and settling of a mine, and times there's men killed by it, but more often it's quieted without harm bein' done. No, no, lad; haud ye no fears! I'd bid ye gang oot an' I thocht ye war in danger."
Although Derrick was greatly comforted by these words, he could not help dreading to hear more of the rock explosions, which are caused by the roof, walls, and pillars of the mine giving slightly beneath the vast crushing weight of material above them. When he reached Paul Evert's station, and found that the crippled lad had heard some of the same loud snappings and crackings, but was not alarmed at them, he felt ashamed of his own fears, and casting them entirely aside, asked to see what the other was drawing.
Paul was very fond of drawing with a pencil, or bit of charcoal, or anything that came to his hand, on all sorts of surfaces, and really showed great skill in his rude sketches of the common objects about him. Since coming into the mine he had found more time to indulge his taste than ever before; and though his only light was the wretched little lamp in his cap, he had produced some beautiful copies of the dainty ferns and curious patterns imprinted on the walls about him. He had also afforded Derrick great amusement by making for him several sketches of Socrates the wise rat in various attitudes. Until this time he had never hesitated before showing his friend any of his efforts, but now he did, and it was only after much urging that he reluctantly handed Derrick the sheet of paper on which he had been working.
It was an outline sketch of the figures composing their underground picnic party of the day before, including Socrates, and Derrick had no sooner set eyes on it than he declared he must have it.
"I was doing it for you, 'Dare,'" said Paul, using his especial pet name for Derrick, which he never did except when they were alone. "But you must let me finish it, and that will take some time; there is so much to put in, and my light is so bad."
Derrick was obliged to agree to this, though he would have valued the sketch just as it was, and handing it back, he went on towards where Paul thought his father was at work. At last he found him, in a distant heading that was exhausted and about to be abandoned, engaged in the dangerous task of "robbing back."
In cutting into a vein it is often necessary to leave walls and pillars of solid coal standing to support the roof, and when the workings about them are exhausted it is customary to break away these supports for the sake of what coal they contain. This is called "robbing back," and is so dangerous a job that only the very best and most experienced miners are intrusted with it. Sometimes the roof, thus robbed of its support, falls, and sometimes it does not. If it does fall, perhaps the miner "robber" gets killed, and perhaps he escapes entirely, or with only bruises and cuts.
Tom Evert was a "company man"; that is, he received regular wages from the company owning the mine, no matter what quantity of coal he sent out, or what kind of work he was engaged upon. Most of the other men were paid so much per cubic yard, or so much by the car-load, for all the coal they mined. Evert was considered one of the best workmen in the mine, and for that reason was often employed on the most dangerous jobs. On this occasion he was "robbing back" in company with another skilful miner; but they had only one helper between them. The burly miner would have been glad to welcome any addition to their force, but he greeted Derrick with especial cordiality, for the boy was a great favorite with him.
"It does me good to see thee, lad," he exclaimed, when Derrick reported to him as helper, "and I'll be proud to have thy feyther's son working alongside of me. Pick up yon shovel and help load the wagon, while we tackle this chunk a bit more, and see if we can't fetch it."
A miner's helper has to do all kinds of work, such as running to the blacksmith's with tools that need sharpening, directing the course of drills beneath the heavy hammer blows, holding lamps in dark places, loading cars, or anything else for which he may prove useful. Shovelling coal into a car is perhaps the hardest of all, and this was what Derrick was now set at. It was hard, back-aching work, but he was fresh and strong, and he took hold of it heartily and vigorously.
Suddenly he dropped his shovel, sprang at Tom Evert who was stooping down to pick up a drill, and gave him so violent a push that he was sent sprawling on his face some little distance away. Carried forward by his own impetus, Derrick fell on top of the prostrate miner. Behind, and so close to them that they were covered with its flying splinters, crashed down the great pillar of coal, weighing several tons, that the "robbers" had been working on. It had unexpectedly given way before their efforts, and would have crushed Tom Evert beyond human recognition but for Derrick's quick eye and prompt action.
When the big miner regained his feet he appeared dazed, and seemed not to realize the full character of the danger he had so narrowly escaped. He gazed at the fallen mass for a moment, and then, appreciating what had happened, he seized Derrick's hand, and shaking it warmly, said, "That's one I owe thee, lad. Now we'll knock off, for I'll do no more 'robbing' this day."
On their way to the foot of the slope the little party met the mine boss, superintending the placing of new timbers, and taking such other precautions as his experience suggested against the effects of the "squeeze," which still continued, though less violently than when Derrick entered the mine. He was surprised at seeing them thus early, for it wanted nearly an hour of quitting-time. When he heard of Tom Evert's narrow escape, he acknowledged that they had a good excuse for knocking off, and complimented Derrick upon his presence of mind.
"By-the-way, Tom," he said, "you may quit 'robbing' for a few days. I want you and your partner to go down on the lower level and pipe off the water that's collecting in the old gangway—the one in which Job Taskar was killed, you know."
"It'll be a ticklish job, boss."
"I know it, and that's the reason I send the steadiest man in the mine to do it. It's got to be done by somebody, or else it will break through some day and flood the whole lower level."
"All right, sir; I'll do my best wi' it; but I'll be mor'n glad when it's safe done."
With this Tom Evert went on towards the slope; but Derrick stayed behind with the mine boss to learn what he might of the operation of placing the timber supports of a mine roof.
He had not watched this work long when a distant muffled sound, something like that of a blast, and yet plainly not produced by an explosion, reached their ears. Although not loud, it was an ominous, awe-inspiring sound; and Derrick would have taken to his heels and made for the bottom of the slope had not his pride kept him where he was.
To his surprise the mine boss, who had listened intently to the sound while it lasted, seemed to regard it as a most natural occurrence. Giving a few directions to his men, he turned to the boy, saying, "Come, Derrick, let us go and see what is the trouble back in there."
For an instant Derrick looked at him to see if he were really in earnest; then realizing that he was, he followed him without a word.
When they reached Paul Evert's door, the mine boss said, "It's quitting-time, Paul; so get out of this as quickly as you can. It is just possible that we may all have to run," he explained to Derrick, after Paul had obeyed his order and left them, "and in that case all those using crutches will need a good start."
Of course this did not greatly reassure Derrick, and he would gladly have followed his friend Paul had not duty commanded him to remain with his friend the mine boss.
Finally they reached the place where, less than an hour before, Derrick had been helping to "rob" the old heading; and here they discovered the cause of the sound they had heard. The roof above that entire set of workings, so far as they could judge, had fallen; and had not Tom Evert decided to quit work when he did, it is probable that no trace would ever have been found of him or those with him.
Derrick felt deeply thankful that his life had been thus preserved, as he walked thoughtfully beside the mine boss away from the scene of disaster.
"How invariably Nature asserts herself in the end, and defies the puny efforts of man to alter her ways," said Mr. Jones to himself, musingly. Then to his companion he said, "I brought you with me to try you, Derrick. I hated to come myself, for I did not know what might be going on, after all these squeezes and movements of the mine. It had to be done, though, and it seemed a good opportunity for testing your courage, so I asked you to come with me. As a mining engineer, you will often be called upon to perform similar unpleasant and dangerous tasks."
"I was afraid, and didn't want to come one bit," said Derrick, with a nervous laugh.
"That doesn't make any difference. I was afraid too, but we came all the same. The proof of your courage is not whether you are afraid to do a thing or not, but whether or not you do it."
So Derrick's courage was tested, and withstood the test, which was indeed fortunate; for, within a short time, he was to be placed in a position that would try the courage of the bravest man in the world.