The first ramp lay to the north of the house, through what was still called "Coaldale the Second;" the second, on the Logan land south of the gap, was put into his especial care. He bent over blueprints and calculations, verifying what had been planned. Careless bits of figuring were corrected; he found one plot of openings contrary to all reason.
"Your number two will collide with the entry above, Mr. Hewin. Look—it ought to be opposite five, here."
Tom studied the diagram from all angles, then laid it down. "Figurin' ain't everything, Mr. Judson. You've got to know your ground. Bring along them maps."
They mounted above the level where the negroes were timing their pick strokes with a wailing improvised chant, reminiscent of cotton field spirituals.
"See that flaw? All your figgers don't take no account of it. We cut in below here, then bend in to the left. This way.... When I was with the Birrell-Florence folks, we went right in under a flaw. The dam' timbers slipped one day, an' we lost four mules, as well as half a dozen niggers. You got to know your ground."
Pelham straightened the line a trifle, corrected the figures, and the cutting went on. The third month showed a marked improvement over the second.
Gradually he noticed that, while there was a great show of deep mining with the first ramp and the delayed second one, the main vigor was bent to the easier dislodging of the outcrop.
He studied the agreements, measured the cleared areas carefully, and carried his discoveries to Paul.
The father took the matter up with Hewin. "How far have you gone to the north, past the mouth of the ramp?"
"About four hundred feet, sir."