“Then now we shall get out of our difficulties or plunge deeper in. Why couldn’t you know something about mining engineering, and so have saved this expense?”
“Mr Wrigley?” said a quiet, solid-looking man, riding up to the office door.
“My name is Wrigley, sir. Are you Mr Benson?”
“Yes; and I came as soon as I could, after I heard from the Woden Mine Company’s secretary. What is the question, gentlemen. Deeper sinking? Troubled with water?”
“No,” said Jessop eagerly. “The lode we have been working has suddenly come to an end in the solid stone.”
“I see. A blind lead,” said the newcomer, dismounting.
“And we want advice as to what is best to do so as to hit again upon the ore,” said Wrigley. “I hear that you stand at the top of the tree in such matters.”
“Very kind of people to say so, sir,” replied the mining engineer. “I do my best. But you used to have a first-class man here—Mr Clive Reed.”
“Yes; but he is dangerously ill, or I should have called him in,” said Wrigley; and Jessop’s countenance cleared. “Well, sir, shall we go down the mine?”
“Better let me go alone, sir,” said the engineer. “I cannot tell you what you want to know in a minute. Perhaps it will take me a week.”