"I'll shake him up when I get to the top," answered Bob with a growl, as he grasped the rod over his head for support.
The others on the car, all foreigners, were standing stolidly, not appearing to care one way or the other what happened. They were too used to riding up and down in the cage to and from their daily work to be greatly disturbed by the rough ride they were now taking.
Steve, however, knew full well that they were riding altogether too fast for safety. He was not afraid; his nerves were too steady for that. Nor was his companion, Bob Jarvis, the least bit worried, but he was growling at the cage-tender far above them for his roughness.
Suddenly there came a sound that startled all hands. It was a quick, crunching, grinding sound, followed by crash after crash of metal meeting metal.
"Hold fast," shouted Steve.
"What's happened, Steve?"
"The car's off the track! Look out everybody! We're in for trouble now."
No sooner had he spoken than the steel floor beneath their feet seemed to slip suddenly from under them.
"She's turning turtle!" cried Steve. "Hold fast!"
His warning had come too late. The miners had been thrown from their feet to the floor of the cage. With quick instinct Steve; gripping the iron bar over his head, stretched his legs down full length. Bob's grip had been wrenched from the safety bar.