Part 35 (1/2)

”Well, it was stupid, certainly,” said Joe, thoughtfully. ”But then, you see, we were so used to climbing up it that it came quite natural.”

”Father says one has got to think about being a man now, and setting to work to understand the mining.”

”Yes,” said Joe, with a sigh; ”that's what my father said. Seems rather hard to have to give up all our old games and excursions.”

”Then don't let's give them up,” said Gwyn, quickly. ”They don't want us to, I know--only to work hard sometimes. There, let's get down and go and see how they're getting on at the mine.”

”Shall we?” said Joe, doubtingly.

”Yes. Why not? We needn't do anything risky. I haven't been there since the day the pump was started. Have you?”

”No; haven't been near it.”

”Then come on!”

Gwyn set the example of descending by lowering his legs over the side, gripping the angle with his knees, and let himself down cleverly, Joe following directly after; while Grip, who had uncurled himself, bounded away before them full of excitement.

A week had resulted in a good deal of work being done by the many men employed; the roughly-made office had been advanced sufficiently for the two old officers to take possession, and spend a good deal of time in consultation with Hardock, who was at work from daylight to dusk, superintending, and was evidently most eager for the success of the mine. The tall granite shaft was smoking away, and the puffs of steam and the whirring, buzzing noises told that the engine was fully at work, while a dull heavy _clank, clank_, came to the boys from the mouth of the shaft.

The first person almost that they set eyes upon was Hardock, who came bustling out of the building over the mouth of the shaft, and stopped short to stare. Then, giving his leg a heavy slap, his face expanded into a grin of welcome.

”There you are, then, both of you at last. Why, where have you been all this time?”

”Oh, busy at home,” said Gwyn, evasively.

”Come to knock up an accident of some kind!” said the man, with the grin on his face expanding.

”No, I haven't,” said Gwyn, shortly.

”You, then?” cried Hardock, turning to Joe, who coloured like a girl.

”Ah, well, we won't quarrel now you have come, my lads: but the Colonel made my ears sing a bit the other day for not looking more sharply after you both. Well, aren't you going to ask how the mine is?”

”Yes,” said Gwyn, glad to change the subject. ”Got all the water out?”

”Nay, my lad, nor nothing like all.”

”Then you never will,” said Joe. ”Depend upon it, there's a way in somewhere from the sea, and that's why the old place was forsaken.”

”Sounds reasonable,” said Hardock, ”'specially as the bits of ore we've come across are so rich.”

”Yes, that's it,” said Gwyn. ”What a pity, though. How far have you got down?”

”Oh, a long way, my lad, and laid open the mouths of two galleries.

Wonderful sight of water we've pumped out. Don't seem to get much farther now.”

”No, and you never will,” said Joe again, excitedly. ”I'm sorry, though. Father will be so disappointed.”

”What makes you say that there's a way in from the sea?” said Hardock, quietly.