“Hello, Johnnie,” he said. “This is Jimmy. I just arrived at your house. Where are you? How can I get into touch with you?”
“I’m at Healy’s. It’s straight down the road. Mother will show you the way. Come over as quick as you can. Mr. Healy is talking to me now.”
Jimmy hung up the receiver, got directions from Mrs. Lee, and raced down the road. In ten minutes he was in the Healy home.
“What have you done and what have you learned?” Jimmy demanded, after Johnnie had introduced him to Mr. Healy.
“I went right over to the mine with my camera, after you called me, and I have a whole roll of films for you—a dozen pictures. They ought to be good, for the conditions were just right for taking them. I got a picture of the mine mouth, the crowd about it, some snaps of the rescue crews descending into the mine, one of an injured miner who was hurt in the attempt at rescue, and other similar pictures.”
“Good! They are just what I want. What about the story?”
“I believe I have the whole thing. Mr. Healy was in the mine when the explosion occurred. In fact, he was close to the very spot where it happened. He saw the explosion occur. He was injured slightly, but not disabled. He gathered together all the men within call and started for an old opening that is no longer used. The explosion had prevented escape through the shaft used nowadays. Gases began to spread through the mine, and the men with Mr. Healy were overcome one by one. Those still able to walk tried to drag the others out. But the only man who got out on his own feet was my cousin. He dragged out one man. Then he collapsed himself. He came to in about half an hour and managed to stagger home. He telephoned about the man he had dragged out, and some miners came and got him. We heard about it over the telephone, just before you called me from Easton.”
“Won’t you repeat your story to me, Mr. Healy?” asked Jimmy. “Just start at the beginning. Tell me what the conditions were like in the mine when the explosion came. That is, about how many men you think went into the mine, how many were still in it, and what the mine is like. Give me a mental picture of it, so I can follow your story. Then start again with the explosion and tell me what you saw and did.” For half an hour Mr. Healy talked steadily, stopping only when he was interrupted by Jimmy with a question. He gave Jimmy an excellent picture of the mine workings. Mr. Healy had been a foreman in this particular mine for years, and knew every foot of it as workers above ground know the cities in which they live. Then he told of the explosion, pictured the damage it did, showed how it shut off escape by the newer shaft, and pictured the situation of the imprisoned men. He estimated their number at more than one hundred.
“If the gas was as severe in other chambers as it was where we were,” he said, “most of those one hundred men are now dead. I have been using the telephone, and so far as I can learn, we two men who got out through the old drift are the only men who have escaped. Unless some of the miners were able to retreat to dead ends of passages, ahead of the gas, and make air-tight barricades to keep the gas out, I fear every man in the mine is past help. But we shall not know for sure until the rescue crews have searched every foot of the workings. That will take many hours, and perhaps some days.”
Jimmy checked back over his notes. His story seemed to be very complete. He asked for a few more details about this point or that. Then he thrust his notes into his pocket. “You have given me a very complete account, Mr. Healy,” he said. “I can write a mighty clear story just from these notes. But I must see the mine myself, and the mine mouth, and the crowds, and if possible I must talk with some of the officials. You don’t feel well enough to go over there with me, do you?”