He held the lamp up close to the roof, and tiny explosions again began inside the gauze.
Then he lowered the lamp, and they ceased, showing how light the explosive gas was, and how it floated about the roof.
“Sithee,” continued the overman, holding up the lamp again, so that Philip could make out that there was a rift above their heads, where at some time or other the roof had fallen; “that place has got part gas in it, for the ventilation don’t touch here; but that don’t mean as the whole mine’s dangerous.”
“But the whole mine is dangerous,” said Philip hastily. “It’s made dangerous by the recklessness of the men. Stop, man, what are you going to do?”
He was too late, for, unperceived by him, the overman had unlocked the lamp, and held it up open above their heads, when there was a blinding flash, and an echoing report, and then a rumbling, distant, rushing noise.
“What do you think o’ that, lad?” said the overman coolly, relocking his lamp.
“I think it was madness,” said Philip excitedly. “You might have fired the mine.”
“Nay, lad, there was no fear o’ that I knowed well enew what I was doing, and that bit o’ gas was just as well away.”
The young deputy’s heart beat fast, and he was about to speak angrily, but he felt that it would be better to consult with his father to see if a stop could not be put to such reckless ways. For he argued if an overman would run such a risk as this, knowing that the detached portion of gas might possibly communicate with a larger body, was it not likely that the ordinary winners of the coal would, without the overman’s knowledge and experience, run even greater risks?
“Yo’ll get used to it all by and by,” said the man condescendingly; “and if yo’ll take my bit of advice, yo’ll let the men tak’ care o’ theirsens.”