Mr. Halford was greatly pleased with the plans made for Derrick and Paul, and promised to look out for them in Philadelphia, secure a pleasant boarding-place for them, and see that they got into the best schools in the city. He said they ought to start as soon as possible, for the autumn terms were about to begin. Before he left he handed Mrs. Sterling a check for a larger amount of money than she had ever in her life possessed. He said she might find it convenient for immediate use while the necessary steps for the transfer of the little Crawford County farm to the great oil company were being taken.
In two weeks after Mr. Halford's departure everything was in readiness for that of the boys, and the time had arrived for them to start for the great city.
Harry Mule, whose leg had been so well mended that it could be taken out of splints, was to be left in charge of Bill Tooley. Bill was to be allowed to hire him out to the mine boss as soon as he was able to work, and that gentleman had promised them both a job at hauling waste cars over the dump. Thus neither of them would be obliged to go down into the mine again.
Bill Tooley was now able to walk without his crutch; but his leg would always be stiff, and he would never be free from a limp in his gait. As Harry Mule had the same peculiarity in his, they became known in the colliery as the two "Stiffies." Under this title they acquired considerable fame for their fondness for each other, and for the wisdom of one of them.
The first of October was a glorious autumn day, and even the ragged colliery village looked pretty, after a fashion, in the golden haze through which the rising sun shone down upon it.
As Derrick, and Paul, accompanied by Mrs. Sterling, Helen, the mine boss, and burly Tom Evert, walked down to the little railway-station, the miners of the day shift were gathering about the mouth of the slope, and preparing to descend into the recently pumped-out workings. From them came many a rough but honest farewell shout to the boys who had endeared themselves to all the village.
"Tak' care o' thysels, lads!" "We'll not forget ye, an' ye'll bear us in mind!" "Whene'er thee's tired o' city, coom back, an' ye'll find a welcome!" "Mind t' fire-damp i' t' city, lads, an' use naught but safeties!" "Good-by!"
As long as they were within hearing the boys, shouted back such answers as, "We'll try to!" "Thank you, Ike! We won't forget you; never fear!" "Good-by all!"
Then the train came along. A few loving words were hastily spoken, and they were off. The hard, grimy, perilous life of the breaker and the mine was left behind, and a new one of study, ambitious dreams, and successes was opening broadly before them.