“All right, sir,” agreed the man spoken to, and who followed Mr. Havens first into the old Crayton mine.
“Oh, Father!” exclaimed Chet again, seeing that Mr. Havens’ right foot was bandaged, and that his boot had been cut away; “are you sure you are not badly hurt?”
“There may be a small bone or two broken,” his father said; “but that’s all. I reckon I’ll be on a crutch for a while. I won’t be able to ride at all for some weeks. And that is going to be unhandy,” he added, “for I’ve got an errand at Grub Stake—and a mighty important errand, too.”
Chet made no comment upon this last statement, for he knew his father had spoken to himself rather than to anybody else. It appeared that Mr. Havens had been hurt at the time of the blast.
“And it was that Tony Traddles’ fault,” declared one of the men. “He just naturally lied about that timbering being all right. She shook right down when the shot went off, and the boss got the end of a beam on his foot.”
“Tony’d ought to be thrashed!” exclaimed another of the miners.
“He’ll lose his job, and that right suddenly,” declared Mr. Havens. “I won’t trust a man like him around the Silent Sue.”
The miners had several lamps and it was easy now to find the small hole into the circular cavern at the bottom of the shaft. Here the light sparkled beautifully upon the pendants from the cavern roof, and showed as well the knotted rope hanging from the beam laid across the mouth of the shaft.
“Looks as if it was going to be a tug getting you up that hole, Boss,” said Jackson. “We’d better go up first and then raise you in a sling.”
“I’ve got a good rope for that,” cried Chet. “You’ll find it right at the top of that shaft—unless it’s been removed since Dig and I came down.”