“Fine!” approved Jo Ann. “I’ve been eager to see how the malacate works now that it’s run by electricity.”
“What’s a malacate, and what does it do?” Peggy asked curiously.
“It’s a windlass arrangement that draws the ore up out of the mine. A rawhide bag is tied to the end of a long cable and let down into the shaft. Using electricity is a vast improvement over the old way.”
“Did the peons have to work the windlass—wind it by hand?” Peggy asked, puzzled.
“No, burros were used for that purpose. But before they used a windlass, back in primitive times, they made the Indians carry the ore up in bags, and they had to climb all the way up out of the mine on dangerous notched logs for ladders. Many and many of those Indians have fallen into the deep shafts, to their death.”
There was silence for a moment; then Florence spoke up: “I have my doubts if Mr. Eldridge’ll take us into the mine in the daytime. The miners are very superstitious about women going into the mine, he said. They think every time a woman goes in, something terrible always happens—an awful explosion or a cave-in, killing one or more of the miners.”
Jo Ann nodded understandingly. “That’s so. I’d forgotten about that. We’ll ask him to take us tonight, then.”
As soon as Mr. Eldridge came in to lunch, all three girls greeted him with requests to show them through the mine that night.
“We-ell, I don’t know quite what to say to that,” he replied slowly. “There’ve been two peculiar accidents lately that make me somewhat reluctant to take you down into the mine. Those accidents haven’t been accounted for to my satisfaction yet.”
“But they were both outside the mine, weren’t they?” asked Jo Ann.