CHAPTER V
THE "MISSED HOLE"
On the seventeenth sub-level of the Cousin Jack Mine the Spoonercontract gang was working at high pressure. Two diamond drills werebanging away like a battery of Gatling guns; men were rushing here andthere, some were pushing small cars of red ore out through the drift tothe level, where the electric trams would pick up the cars and rush themto the ore chutes. The pick men were breaking off the loosened pieces ofore dislodged by the last blast, while others were shoveling the oreinto cars as if their very existence depended upon keeping up the pace.
Spooner himself, clad in a suit of oilskins, was shouting at his men,nagging, urging, threatening and directing in a perfect volley ofexplosive words.
A car had just been pushed out from the end of the drift where thedrillers were working. It had reached a point directly underneath therise and there it stuck, held fast by a piece of rock that had droppedto the track.
Spooner leaped forward with an angry roar.
"Out with it! I'll fire you both, you lazy, good for nothings!" hebellowed. "You ain't fit even to be swampers behind a pair of lazymules. Push, I tell you! Push! Something will be doing here in a jiffyif you don't get that car out of the way!"
His words were prophetic in a measure, for something did happen a fewseconds later, though Spooner was not the author of it. Rather was hethe victim.
With a crash the trap door at the bottom of the rise burst open with asound like a dynamite explosion in a new drift. A dark object was hurledout into the level, landing squirming on the soft ore in the car.
"What--what----"
Spooner did not finish what he was about to say. The dark object boundedfrom the ore car, landing with great force against the angry contractor.Spooner toppled over backwards, the breath pretty well knocked out ofhim, collapsing in the gutter at the side of the track.
Steve Rush had found the Spooner contract at last. The lad was not muchthe worse for his exciting slide, though he had been somewhat bruisedwhen he burst through the wooden trap door at the lower end of the rise.
Steve was up in a twinkling. He looked about him and in a half laughingvoice demanded:
"Where am I?"
"I reckon you're on seventeen," answered one of the miners.
"Where's the boss?"
"He's down there under you somewhere. I guess you knocked the daylightout of him. I hope you did. If it wasn't for my wife and family I'd adone it long time ago."
"Yes; I'd give a year's wages for the privilege of turning the diamonddrill on him," added the head driller.
"Did I hit a man?" asked Steve anxiously.
"No; you hit an apology for a man," was the quick reply.
By this time young Rush was bending over, looking down into the shadowsthat hung over the gutter along the side of the track. He made out thefigure of a man lying there.
"Help me get him up, men," he cried. "Don't you see that he is hurt?"
"Serve him right if he is," growled the trammer, the workman who pushedthe cars of ore out into the main level.
"I tell you he is hurt. Lend a hand here!" commanded the boy sternly.
Something in his tone led the others to obey his order promptly. Theygathered up Contractor Spooner and carried him over to where the lightfrom the candles could be thrown on his face.
"Douse him with a pail of water," suggested the drill-man.
Someone quickly adopted the suggestion, with the result that Spooner satup almost at once, choking, roaring and threatening between his gaspsfor breath.
"Who--who did it? Who did it?" snarled the contractor, struggling to hisfeet. "Who hit me?"
The man's hat had fallen from his head, and for the moment Steve did notanswer. He was too fully absorbed in gazing at the harsh face of the manbefore him.
Balanced on Spooner's tall, angular body was a round, bullet-like head,with a rim of reddish-gray hair. His lips were protruding, sagging ateach corner, while the lids over his prominent eyes blinked as thoughtrying to run a race with each other.
"Who did it, I say?" roared the contractor, fixing his angry eyes uponthe face of Steve Rush.
"I am afraid I am the guilty one, sir. But it was an accident. I willtell you how it occurred. I----"
Spooner gave the lad no opportunity to explain. Instead, the contractor,with an angry imprecation, started for Rush.
Steve's mind worked quickly. He was not afraid; he was consideringwhether it were best to run or to stand his ground, and he decided uponthe latter.
"Stand back! Don't you touch me! I tell you it was an accident!" shoutedthe boy.
The contractor was too enraged to listen to reason, and as he sprang forRush he thrust forth his long arms to grab the boy.
Spooner got a blow on the nose that sent him staggering backward, butSteve did not follow up the advantage he had gained. He could not expectto prove a match for the powerful miner, and perhaps he would not havebeen able to hit the latter as he did had the other been looking foranything of the sort. Spooner was more surprised than hurt.
"If you will wait, sir, I will explain. I am sorry I fell on you andsorry I had to hit you, but you mustn't lay your hands on me. Youmust----"
All work in drift seventeen had been suspended for the moment, and eventhe diamond drills had ceased their bang, bang, bang. Every man in thedrift, save Spooner himself, had uttered a yell of delight when he sawthe young miner's sturdy punch.
"Look out, lad; he's coming for you again. Spooner, remember he's a boy;don't do anything you'll be sorry for. You'll be----"
The contractor had started for young Rush again.
"Get out of here!" roared the man. "Out of here before I wring yourmiserable neck!"
Steve snatched up an iron bar that the trammers used to fasten thecatches on the cars. He raised the bar over his shoulder.
"If you try to touch me I'll hit you, sir," said the lad in a tone sopolite and pleasant that Spooner paused in amazement, then uttered ahoarse guffaw. Nevertheless he halted where he was, for he saw anexpression in the eyes of the boy before him which spelled trouble.Furthermore, Spooner knew how strict the rules of the mine were, and nowthat he had had an opportunity to get control of himself he decided notto throw the young man out bodily.
"Get out of here before I help you, then. I can't stand everything. Goto work, you lazy louts! What do you mean by standing around on my time?I'll dock every man of you an hour's pay. Start those drills. Trammers,off with you. Are you going, boy?"
"No, sir."
"You're not going?"
"No, sir; I am going to work here."
"Oh, you are, eh? Well, I think I shall have something to say aboutthat. You're not going to work here, and I should like to know what youare doing down in this mine, anyway. I'll have the mine captain put youout. It's my opinion that you are not here for any good, and you'relucky if he doesn't turn you over to the mine police."
"I have been assigned to work in this drift. The superintendent orderedme to report to you, sir. I am ready to go to work."
The contractor gazed at the boy with a puzzled expression on his face.
"You, a boy like you, work here? Pooh! What do you think this is, akindergarten?"
"I am able to do a day's work; besides, it is the superintendent'sorders, sir."
Spooner knew the boy had the best of him there. The superintendent'sorders were to be obeyed, no matter if Spooner was mining on a contractagreement.
"Very well; if you want to work you shall have all the work you can do.I'll see the superintendent about your case when I go up to-day noon."
"What shall I do?"
"Do? Don't you see anything to do?"
"I see some things I should like to do," answered Steve Rush in asignificant tone, eyeing the contractor steadily.
"Get hold of that shovel. I can't break your head as I ought to do, butthe shovel will break your back before you get through with this day'swork."
Steve grasped the shovel and began throwing the ore into th
e waitingcar.
Spooner eyed the lad narrowly for a few moments. He was obliged to admitthat Rush handled the shovel as well as any man he had ever had in hisgang.
"You ought to be in the bull gang," jeered the contractor. "Yes, sir,you are wasting your talents working in an ore drift."
"What is a bull gang?" questioned the lad between shovels.
"That is the gang that shifts the timber down into the mine," answeredthe man shoveling by Steve's side. "The timber-men below take the stuffand build the supports and the lagging to keep the levels from cavingin, you know."
"Where's your candle?" demanded Spooner. "You're a nice sort of a minerto come to work without a candle in your stick!"
"I lost it. You see, I lost my way and had a time getting here,"explained Steve.
"Get one when you go up to-day noon. And remember you get only twohours' pay for the forenoon. If you're ever late like this again you arethrough right then and there."
Steve did not answer. He shoveled with all his might.
"Ready for the powder," called the head drill-man.
All the men save Steve and the powder-man laid down their tools andmoved off. The boy continued at his work, his shovel making a steadyscrape, scrape as he threw the ore up into the car.
In the meantime the powder-man was adjusting a charge of dynamite ineach of the holes in the ore made by the drills.
"Well, boy?" called Mr. Spooner.
"Yes, sir."
"Are you going to stay there and have your fool head blown off?"
"Why----"
"Don't you see, they're going to fire a charge of dynamite. Get out ofthat!"
"Stand c-l-e-a-r!" called the powder-man in a sing-song tone.
All hands ran back so as to be well out of the way, and now that Steveunderstood what was being done, he shouldered his shovel and movedleisurely off in the direction taken by the others.
"That's the worst of a fool kid," grumbled the contractor. "They don'tknow enough to come in out of the wet----"
"The fuse is fired! Look out!" warned the powder-man, starting away fromthe scene on a run.
Steve watched the sputtering, squirming fuse far down the drift as theflame neared the charge of dynamite, six pounds all told. It seemed tohim that all of them were in a dangerous position, but not beingfamiliar with blasting, he supposed the miners knew their own businessbest.
It is always an anxious moment in the mines when, gathered in anexpectant group, the workers underground stand waiting for the charge ofdynamite to explode. It is seldom that anyone speaks during this briefperiod of suspense until the flash comes, followed by a puff of whitesmoke, a heavy report and a rain of rock and ore.
In this instance the wait seemed unusually long. The flash did not come.
"Missed hole," announced Spooner in a tone of disgust. "Five minutes ofvaluable time lost. That's the way the money goes in this gang. Get inthere and attach a new fuse, powder-man. Don't be all day about it,either. If I wasn't around here to watch things we wouldn't get half adozen tons a day out of this drift. First thing you know we'll all beout of a job. Come, are you going to get in there?"
"It ain't safe," answered the powder-man, shaking his head, sending ashower of grease from his candle into the face of Steve Rush.
"I see I've got to do it myself," exclaimed Spooner, grabbing a handfulof fuses from the shoulders of the man who handled the dynamite.
The powder-man reached for his fuses, but the contractor already hadthem in his hand and was striding toward the drift.
The powder-man hesitated, then started after him on a trot.
"It's again' the rules, sir, to go in until ten minutes after firing thefuse when there's a missed hole," he warned.
"Rules!" jeered the contractor. "I'm the rules. I guess I'm running thisdrift."
By this time both men had reached the dome-like space where the driftended, which included a very rich vein of iron ore.
Steve Rush shaded his eyes and, stooping over, peered into the drift. Hewas looking between the two men who at that moment were arguingexcitedly. They appeared to have forgotten that they were treading ondangerous ground, but long familiarity with high explosives had madethem careless.
The lad saw something a few feet beyond them that caused his heart toleap. A tiny spark had sprung up from the darkness, then as suddenlydied out.
"Look out!" shouted the young miner, now keenly alive to the danger ofthe men ahead.
"Keep that kid still, or throw him down on the next level!" calledSpooner over his shoulder. "I expect he'll have an attack of hystericswhen we fire the blast."
"I tell you it isn't a missed hole!" cried the boy.
"Don't be a fool," jeered the head trammer.
Steve did not hear him. The boy had started off with a bound. His hatdropped from his head and his shovel fell clattering to the ground."Come back, I tell you!" shouted Rush.
A few seconds more and he was right upon them. Without wasting furtherwords of warning, he grabbed the contractor, and with surprisingstrength for one of his build, Steve hurled Spooner far out into thedrift, that official bellowing his rage at the indignity.
Steve reached for the powder-man. His hands had just been laid on theman's shoulders when there came a blinding flash, a detonating report, arending and tearing of rocks, then a shower of ore and stone.
Darkness settled over the drift and all was still.
The Iron Boys in the Mines; or, Starting at the Bottom of the Shaft Page 5