"You can get up now," Jack heard Mr. Post saying. "That was about as narrow a squeak as I ever had, and I've been in some pretty tight places."
"What's it all about?" asked John Smith, as he rose and began brushing the dirt from his hair.
"That's what I want to know," put in Jack.
"Snooping sand fleas! But I feel as if I had been digging a tunnel!" cried Nat.
"Mighty lucky you didn't get blown down into one, or an oil hole," said Mr. Post.
"Anybody hurt?" asked Mr. Baker, running up at that moment. "My! I thought you'd all be killed!"
"More good luck than good management that we weren't," replied the miner. "How could you do it, Jim?"
"First time I ever was so careless," replied the well-shooter. "You can bet it'll never happen again."
"What was it?" asked Nat.
"Just an explosion of about twenty pounds of nitro-glycerine about as close to us as I ever care to have it," said Mr. Post.