"Got your maps?"
"Yes."
"We got to run a sag up to Eleven—fast—or drown. Can you give me the shortest possible distance?"
"Can do." The Head Surveyor snapped orders. "We'll have it for you in a minute. Thank God there was somebody down there with a brain."
"It doesn't take super-human intelligence to push buttons."
"You'd be surprised. Your point on glory holes was very well taken—you won't have much time after the pump quits. When the water reaches the Station...."
"Curtains. And it's all done now—running free and easy—recirculating. Hurry that dope!"
"Here it is now. Start at the highest point of Stope Fifty Nine. Repeat."
"Stope Fifty-Nine." Jones waved a furious hand as he shouted the words; the tight-packed miners turned and ran. The shift-boss followed them, carrying the walkie-talkie, aiming an exasperated kick of pure frustration at the merrily-humming water pump as he passed it.
"Thirty two degrees from the vertical—anywhere between thirty and thirty five."