"I see some things I should like to do," answered Steve Rush in a significant tone, eyeing the contractor steadily.
"Get hold of that shovel. I can't break your head as I ought to do, but the shovel will break your back before you get through with this day's work."
Steve grasped the shovel and began throwing the ore into the waiting car.
Spooner eyed the lad narrowly for a few moments. He was obliged to admit that Rush handled the shovel as well as any man he had ever had in his gang.
"You ought to be in the bull gang," jeered the contractor. "Yes, sir, you are wasting your talents working in an ore drift."
"What is a bull gang?" questioned the lad between shovels.
"That is the gang that shifts the timber down into the mine," answered the man shoveling by Steve's side. "The timber-men below take the stuff and build the supports and the lagging to keep the levels from caving in, you know."
"Where's your candle?" demanded Spooner. "You're a nice sort of a miner to come to work without a candle in your stick!"
"I lost it. You see, I lost my way and had a time getting here," explained Steve.
"Get one when you go up to-day noon. And remember you get only two hours' pay for the forenoon. If you're ever late like this again you are through right then and there."