“I don’t care; he shall have one of bronze.”
He told Grip this when he reached the yard, and the dog rushed toward them, standing on his hind-legs and straining against his collar at the full extent of his chain till he was unfastened, when he went half mad with excitement till they were out of the grounds and on their way toward the mine. Then as he trotted on before them straight for the buildings they heard the panting of the engine, and came in sight of the smoke.
For the pump was steadily at work again, clearing out the water which had begun to gather, consequent upon the enforced inaction.
Sam Hardock caught sight of them before they reached the mine, and came to meet them, smiling largely.
“How are you, gentlemen?—how are you?” he cried. “Not much the worse, then, from your trip underground?”
“Oh, no, Sam, we’re right enough,” said Gwyn; “but I say, I can’t understand about our only being in the mine two days. It seemed to me like a week.”
“Fortnight,” said Joe, correcting him.
“Well, fortnight, then.”
“Ay, it would,” said Hardock, looking serious now. “I mind being shut up in one of the Truro mines by a fall; and we were only there about thirty hours, but it seemed to me just like thirty days.”
“But hasn’t there been a mistake? We must have been there more than forty-eight hours.”