Part 45 (1/2)

As he spoke Tom was hustling into his coat and pulling his cap down over his ears.

Then, full of the liveliest anxiety, the young chief engineer hastened out.

His instant conclusion had been that some treachery was afoot, but whence it came he had no idea. Just now Tom Reade wanted facts, not conjectures.

As he closed the door and hurried across the camp, Tom found the aroused miners flocking out. Several of them bore rifles, for they, too, had guessed treachery.

”Here's the boss!”

”What's happened, Mr. Reade?”

”Men,” Tom called softly, ”I don't know what's up. But don't talk loudly or excitedly, for Hazelton has been aroused by the noise and the shake, and I've tried to turn it off. Don't let him hear your voices.”

”It was in the mine, sir, wasn't it?” asked one man, hurrying to Reade's side.

”It must have been, Hunter. Come along, all of you. We'll go over to the shaft and take a look.”

Several of the men were carrying lighted lanterns. At the shaft one of the first evidences they discovered was the wires running back to the magneto.

”Trickery, here!” muttered one of the men. ”Mr. Reade, shall we try to pick up a trail and follow it?”

”No,” answered Tom, after a moment's thought. ”It would be wasted time. Even if you pick up a trail on this frozen crust, which is hardly likely, you couldn't follow it except by lantern light.

That would be slow work. Besides, it would show the rascals where you were and how fast you were moving. They could fire at you easily. No; let's have a look at the damage.”

Looking down the shaft, with their rim light, from the top, all looked as usual about the shaft.

”Hand me one of the lanterns,” called Tom. ”Hunter, you take another and come with me.”

”Careful, sir,” warned another man. ”The blasts may not be all over as yet.”

Tom Reade smiled.

”The blasts were fired by magneto,” he explained. ”There can't be any more blasts, unless some enemy should sneak back and adjust the magneto to some other 'mine.' You won't let any one down the shaft for that purpose, I know.”

There was a laugh, amid which Tom and Hunter descended. Near the bottom of the third ladder Reade found that the rest of the way down the shaft had been blocked by the smas.h.i.+ng of the ladders.

”Go up, Hunter,” the young engineer directed, ”and start the men to knotting ropes and splicing 'em. We want at least a hundred feet of knotted rope.”

Tom waited on the last solid rung while this order was being carried out. By and by Hunter reached him with one end of a long, knotted line.

”Don't pa.s.s down any more,” Tom called, ”until I have made this end fast.”

This was soon done, and the rest of the rope was lowered.

”Hunter,” Tom asked, ”are you good for going down a hundred feet or so on a knotted rope?”

”I don't believe I am, sir.”

”Then don't try it. Go up and send down two or three men who feel sure they can do it. But urge every man against taking the risk foolishly. For a man who can't handle himself on a knotted rope it's a fine and easy way to break his neck.”

”Are you going down now, sir?”