“Seems precious venturesome, doesn’t it?” observed Joe.
“Not half so bad as going down with a rope round you, and feeling it coming undone,” said Gwyn.
“No, but you did have water to fall into,” said Joe. “If the wire rope breaks, they’ll fall on the stone bottom and be smashed.”
“Ah, yes,” said Dinass, in solemn tones. “Be a sad business that.”
“Will you be quiet, Tom Dinass!” cried Gwyn, irritably. “You’re always croaking about the mine.”
“Nay, sir, not me,” replied the man. “It were Mr Joe here as begun talking about the rope breaking and their coming down squelch.”
“Well, don’t let anybody talk about such things,” said Gwyn, who spoke as if he had been running hard. “Nearly down now, aren’t they?”
“About half, sir,” said the engineer.
“Oh, I don’t want to talk,” said Dinass; “only one can’t help thinking it’s queer work for two gents to do. It’s a job for chaps like me. Howsoever, I hope they won’t come to no harm.”
Grip growled at something, as if, in fact, he were resenting the man’s words, but it might have only been that he was being troubled by the flea which he had several times that morning tried to scratch out of his thick coat.