CHAPTER VI
IN THE POWDER-WRECKED DRIFT
FOR a moment those outside the end of the drift stood in awed silence. The candles on the hats of the miners had been extinguished by the explosion.
Nothing will cause an underground miner to lose his head quicker than being plunged into sudden darkness. Several of them set up a terrified yell.
"Hold your tongues!" bellowed the contractor. "You haven't been hurt. Don't you know enough to light your candles? That's the best way I know of to get rid of the darkness."
Spooner lighted his own candle, holding it in his hand above his head as he looked about. He stepped forward toward the place where his men had been drifting in the ore.
"Just as I expected," he growled. "More time wasted."
The timbers that had supported the roof of the drift had crashed downward, carrying with them a few tons of rock and ore, blocking the passage completely.
"Are—are the men in there killed?" questioned a trammer in unsteady tones.