Part 56 (1/2)

”No; she came home immediately on hearing the news. You never saw any one so changed. She has gone in for charity.”

Keith looked a trifle grim.

”If you thought her pretty as a girl, you ought to see her as a widow.

She is ravis.h.i.+ng.”

”You are enthusiastic. I see that Wickersham has returned?”

Norman's brow clouded.

”He'd better not come back here,” said Keith.

It is a trite saying that misfortunes rarely come singly, and it would not be so trite if there were not truth in it. Misfortunes are sometimes like blackbirds: they come in flocks.

Keith was on his way from his office in the town to the mines one afternoon, when, turning the shoulder of the hill that shut the opening of the mine from view, he became aware that something unusual had occurred. A crowd was already a.s.sembled about the mouth of the mine, above the tipple, among them many women; and people were hurrying up from all directions.

”What is it?” he demanded of the first person he came to.

”Water. They have struck a pocket or something, and the drift over toward the Wickersham line is filling up.”

”Is everybody out?” Even as he inquired, Keith knew hey were not.

”No, sir; all drowned.”

Keith knew this could not be true. He hurried forward and pushed his way into the throng that crowded about the entrance. A gasp of relief went up as he appeared.

”Ah! Here's the boss.” It was the expression of a vague hope that he might be able to do something. They gave way at his voice and stood back, many eyes turning on him in helpless appeal. Women, with blankets already in hand, were weeping aloud; children hanging to their skirts were whimpering in vague recognition of disaster; men were growling and swearing deeply.

”Give way. Stand back, every one.” The calm voice and tone of command had their effect, and as a path was opened through the crowd, Keith recognized a number of the men who had been in and had just come out.

They were all talking to groups about them. One of them gave him the first intelligent account of the trouble. They were working near the entrance when they heard the cries of men farther in, and the first thing they knew there was a rush of water which poured down on them, sweeping everything before it.

”It must have been a river,” said one, in answer to a question from Keith. ”It was rising a foot a minute. The lights were all put out, and we just managed to get out in time.”

According to their estimates, there were about forty men and boys still in the mine, most of them in the gallery off from the main drift. Keith was running over in his mind the levels. His face was a study, and the crowd about him watched him closely, as if to catch any ray of hope that he might hold out. As he reflected, his face grew whiter. Down the slant from the mine came the roar of the water. It was a desperate chance.

Half turning, he glanced at the white, stricken faces about him.

”It is barely possible some of the men may still be alive. There are two elevations. I am going down to see.”

At the words, the sound through the crowd hushed suddenly.

”Na, th' ben't one alive,” said an old miner, contentiously.

The murmur began again.

”I am going down to see,” said Keith. ”If one or two men will come with me, it will increase the chances of getting to them. If not, I am going alone. But I don't want any one who has a family.”

A dead silence fell, then three or four young fellows began to push their way through the crowd, amid expostulations of some of the women and the urging of others.

Some of the women seized them and held on to them.