Dan halted and stared at the boy with sudden apprehension. Then, after a moment, he whispered:
“My golly, Chet! whatever am I to tell your mother? Yer dad’s down there with ’em!”
“Father!” exclaimed Chet, seizing Dig’s hand.
“Is my father in it too?” cried Dig, ready to burst into tears.
“Mr. Fordham warn’t there noways,” said Dan, getting his breath and able now to speak more intelligibly. “Whatever am I to tell your mother, Chet?” he repeated.
“You won’t say anything to her, Dan,” replied the boy, firmly. “I’ll tell her myself. But give me the particulars. We want to know how it happened. Isn’t there any hope? Can’t we get at them down there?”
“Dunno,” returned the miner. “Rafe Peters is in charge, and they are digging like prairie-dogs to get down into the gallery. Everybody down there is all right so fur. Ye see, it was like this: There was a blast goin’ to be shot in Number Two tunnel. Ye know where that run to?”
Chet nodded. “Over toward the old Crayton Shaft—that’s open now—on the other side of the mountain. Father was saying the other day that the Silent Sue’s Number Two must be getting pretty near the old diggings.”
“That’s it,” said Dan Gubbins, nodding, and wiping his moist forehead with the back of a hairy hand. “Well, they got ready that shot, which was a heavy one. The timbering of the lower part of the shaft didn’t suit Mr. Havens and he told Tony to put in new cross-braces and some new planks.”
“Tony Traddles?” demanded Chet.