He caught Dick’s arm and drew him back against the wall, the others following suit, and a moment later a laden ore car flashed past in the direction of the shaft, and disappeared.
Presently they turned into a crosscut, and a few minutes later they began to pass small groups of men working at the rock with picks and bars. Almost without exception they were stripped to the waist, for the heat had become oppressive, and was growing greater as they advanced.
They crossed the openings of innumerable small drifts which led out of the main tunnel, some of which were short, blind tunnels, while others extended for a long distance, sometimes curving around and returning to the drift from which they started. It was a veritable labyrinth.
At length they reached a spot where a number of men were loading the ore cars, and the mine owner stopped.
“This will show you the working as well as any place,” he said, taking off his hat and mopping his forehead. “You notice that the tunnel runs along one side of the vein? That’s to prevent caving. The ore is much softer than the rock through which it runs. You can see for yourselves how it is taken out with pick and bar. Sometimes we help it along with a blast.”
While he was talking Dick stepped up to the side of the drift and looked closely at the vein. It did not look in the least like one’s preconceived notion of gold ore, but the Yale man had had enough experience to see that it was good stuff.
“It ain’t as rich here as we struck it a ways back,” said a voice.
And turning, Dick saw McDonough standing at his side.
“Still, I shouldn’t mind having a couple of thousand tons of this ore,” Merriwell said, smiling.
The big fellow grinned.