Before Bennie could express his surprise and gratitude, he felt a strong hand laid gently on his shoulder, and a rough, bearded face pressed for a moment against his own, and then his strange visitor was gone.
Down the heading the retreating footsteps echoed, their sound swallowed up at last in the distance; and up at Bennie’s doorway silence reigned.
For a long time the boy sat, pondering the meaning of the strange man’s words and conduct. But the more he thought about it the less able was he to understand it. Perhaps Tom could explain it, though; yes, he would tell Tom about it. Then it occurred to him that it was long past time for Tom to come up from the foot with his last trip for the day. It was strange, too, that the men should all go out together that way; he didn’t understand it. But if Tom would only come—
He rose and walked down the heading a little way; then he turned and went up through the door and along the airway; then he came back to his bench again, and sat down.
He was sure Tom would come; Tom had never disappointed him yet, and he knew he would not disappoint him for the world if he could help it. He knew, too, that it was long after quitting-time, and there hadn’t been a sound, that he could hear, in the mine for an hour, though he had listened carefully.
After a while he began to grow nervous; the stillness became oppressive; he could not endure it. He determined to try to find the way out by himself. He had walked to the foot of the slope alone once, the day Tom was sick, and he thought he could do it again.
So he made sure that his door was tightly closed, then he took his dinner-pail, and started bravely down the heading, striking the rails of the mine car-track on each side with his cane as he went along, to guide him.
Sometimes he would stop and listen, for a moment, if, perchance, he might hear Tom coming to meet him, or, possibly, some belated laborer going out from another part of the mine; then, hearing nothing, he would trudge on again.
After a long time spent thus, he thought he must be near the foot of the slope; he knew he had walked far enough to be there. He was tired, too, and sat down on the rail to rest. But he did not sit there long; he could not bear the silence, it was too depressing, and after a very little while he arose and walked on. The caps in the track grew higher; once he stumbled over one of them and fell, striking his side on the rail. He was in much pain for a few minutes; then he recovered and went on more carefully, lifting his feet high with every step, and reaching ahead with his cane. But his progress was very slow.