“Yes, I am all right now,” said Mr. Healy. “I’ll be glad to go with you.”
They hurried out to Johnnie’s car and were rushed over to the mouth of the mine, which was hardly more than a mile distant. Parking the car, the three walked about through the crowd, observing, asking questions, gathering up what incidents they could.
“There’s the superintendent,” said Mr. Healy, as a large man came out of one of the mine buildings. “Would you like to talk to him?”
“I surely would,” answered Jimmy.
“Then come on.”
They walked toward the man. While they were still at some distance from him, they saw a young man hurry up to him and lay a detaining hand on his arm. The superintendent looked surprised. The young man said something. The superintendent brushed him roughly aside and went on. He seemed angry. He was still frowning when he came face to face with Mr. Healy and the two lads.
“Pat, I’m mighty glad to see you,” said the superintendent, “but I am mighty sad to see you alone. I fear it’s all up with the men underground.”
“This young man wants to talk to you,” said Mr. Healy. “He’s a reporter from New York.”
“So was that jackass that just tried to stop me,” said the superintendent. “I don’t want to talk to reporters.”
“But this lad is a very good friend of mine,” urged Mr. Healy. “And he is a gentleman. I know you will be willing to talk to him.”