"Coyote-on-a-hill" was pretty badly scared the first day, but Ben gave him a word of encouragement whenever he went by, and never failed to remind him of the money he was making, so he stuck it out like a man, and presently got quite used to the dreary darkness.
Both of the Worth boys expressed themselves as pleased with the change; what Jerry thought of it he never remarked.
John found his new work anything but easy. Bill Cooper was a fearless miner and a hard worker, and his assistant had all he could do to keep up with the task set for him. It was necessary first to cut under the mass of coal that was to be dislodged; to do this John had to lie on his side and so swing his pick in a cramped position. To make the vertical cut was not much easier, for he found it hard to work squeezed in between the walls of coal as the crevice deepened. The bottom and side cuts made, he bored holes (round holes with a flat drill, the knack of which he acquired only after long practice and a choice collection of smashed fingers) and then tamped in the paper cartridge of powder. When the fuse was in place, all that was needed to complete the work was a light from his lamp. The former was plain, straightforward hard work, the latter sport. The fuse lay like a snake just sliding into its hole, the place was quiet as death and as dark as a tomb, except where the flickering glare of the young miner's lamp shone; his face was covered with coal dust, through which his eyes peered with unnatural prominence.
He would take the lamp from his cap, stoop down and touch the bare flame to the end of the snake fuse; it would immediately begin to sputter sparks, and as John drew back for safety he could watch it eat its way towards the black wall and the powder within it. The red sparks drew nearer and nearer the hole, then, after a spiteful little shower, disappeared. It seemed a long time to the miner waiting behind his protecting shield before the rending, shaking report sounded, followed by the glare of the explosion and the rattle of the falling coal. Then Ben soon turned up with Jerry, and both boys shovelled the loose coal of varying-sized lumps into the car.
Bill Cooper, though insisting that John must do his share, generally took the hardest and most dangerous places himself; so it came about one day that the boy worked at the vertical cut while his partner cut under, propping up the mass of coal (with wooden logs cut for the purpose) as he went in deeper.
The work was hard, and neither man nor boy spent any breath in talking. The dull ring of the pick was the only sound. Deeper and deeper grew the crevice; soon only John's foot was visible and Cooper had disappeared entirely under the overhanging ledge of coal; only the faint glowing of the light and the sound of the tools betrayed the workmen. It was dirty, tiring, dangerous work. At any moment that great mass of mineral might fall if the supports were not properly placed or the king-brace happened to be lodged in a soft spot.
"Come out if you want to save your skin, Bill," cried John suddenly. "I hear it popping and working all around, and it's beginning to move."
"In a minute. Wait till I dig out this far corner." His voice seemed to come from the bowels of the earth and had such an uncanny sound that John shivered.
"Hurry! Never mind the corner—it's going to fall. Come out, quick!" John's voice had such a note of fear and entreaty in it that the man below was impressed.
"All right," he said, "I'll come right along."