'Fifteen feet don't seem much,' he muttered.
I examined the rock again. The roof of the shaft was no longer neatly cut out by the force of the charge. It was broken and jagged. 'Two more blasts should do it,' I said.
Two more!' His voice sounded doubtful. 'Blimey! I ain't sure I cares very much aba't doin' one more. Look at that crack there, mate. Wide enough fer me ter put me fist into. Looks ter me as though the 'ole bleedin' lot'll fall away soon as we get the drill goin'.'
'Looks worse than it is,' I told him. 'We'll drill the charge holes and then probe ahead with the long drill.'
He caught hold of my arm and peered up into my face. 'You 'ave done this sort o' thing before, ain't yer? I mean, yer do know wot yer up ter?'
'Scared?' I asked.
'Wot, me?' He drew back angrily. "Course I ain't. I just like ter know I'm workin' wiv somebody wot knows his onions, that's all.'
Within ten minutes we had the drill clamp fixed across the shaft. Then Friar started up the compressor and the whole undersea gallery reverberated to the roar and chatter of the pneumatic drill. By the time we'd done two holes, Captain Manack arrived with Dave and Slim. They off-loaded the compressor and then set to work loading the broken rock on to the carriage. Manack climbed up beside us. 'How's it going?' he shouted.
I shut off the air. 'Getting pretty wet,' I said. 'Have you got the long drill?'
'Do you want it immediately?' he asked.