Derrick Sterling Part 5

Derrick found his way without difficulty to the large chamber at the foot of the slope. There, as he did not see any cars ready to go up, he turned towards the travelling-road, with the intention of climbing the steep stairway he had descended that morning.

Suddenly there arose cries of "There he is! There he is! Head him off!"

Before the startled lad knew what was about to happen, he was surrounded by a score of sooty-faced boys. Cutting him off from the travelling-road, these boys pushed him, in spite of his opposition and protests, into a far corner of the chamber, where, with his back against the wall, he made a stand and demanded what they wanted of him.

"A treat! a treat!" shouted several.

Then room was made for one who seemed to exercise authority over them, and who, as he stepped forward, Derrick recognized with surprise as Bill Tooley, ex-mule driver, and now breaker boy.

"What are you down here for, and what does all this mean, Bill?" asked Derrick, as calmly as he could.

"It means," answered Bill, putting his disagreeable face very close to Derrick's, "dat yer've got ter pay fer comin' down inter de mine, an'

fer takin' my mule, when I told yer not ter; dat's what it means. An' it means dat we're goin' ter initerate yer inter de order of 'Young Sleepers,' what every boy in de mine has got ter belong ter."

Derrick had heard of this order of "Young Sleepers," and knew it to be composed of the very worst young rascals in the coal region. He knew that they were up to all kinds of wickedness, and that most of the petty crimes of the community were charged to them. In an instant he made up his mind that he would rather suffer almost anything than become a member of such a gang.

While these thoughts were pa.s.sing through his mind the cry of "A treat!

a treat!" was again raised, and Bill Tooley again addressed Derrick, saying,

"Ter pay yer way inter de mine, de fellers says yer must set up a kag er beer. Ter pay fer drivin' my mule, I say yer got ter take a lickin', an'

after that we'll initerate yer."

Now, both Derrick's father and mother had taught him to abhor liquor in every form; so to the boy's first proposition he promptly answered,

"I haven't got any money, and couldn't afford to buy a keg of beer, even if I wanted to. I don't want to, because I'm a blue ribbon, and wouldn't buy even a gla.s.s of beer if I had all the money in the world. I won't join your society either, and I don't see how you can initiate me when I don't choose to become a member. As for a licking, it'll take more than you to give it to me, Bill Tooley!"

With these bold words the young mule-driver made a spring at his chief tormenter, in a desperate effort to break through the surrounding group of boys. In the distance he saw the twinkling lights of some miners, and thought if he could only reach them they would afford him protection.

Derrick's defiant speech for an instant paralyzed his hearers with its very boldness; but as he sprang at Bill Tooley they also made a rush at him with howls of anger. He succeeded in hitting their leader one staggering blow, but was quickly overpowered by numbers and flung to the ground, where the young savages beat and kicked him so cruelly that he thought they were about to kill him.

He tried to scream for help, but could not utter a sound, and the miners who pa.s.sed on their way to the slope thought the fracas was only a quarrel among some of the boys and paid no attention to it.

At length Bill Tooley ordered the boys to cease from pummelling their victim, and stooping over him, tied a dirty cloth over his eyes; then he gave a whispered order, and several of the boys, lifting the helpless lad by his head and feet, bore him away.

After carrying him what seemed to Derrick an interminable distance, and pa.s.sing through a number of doors, as he could tell by hearing them loudly opened and closed, his bearers suddenly dropped him on the hard ground. Then Bill Tooley's voice said,

"Yer'll lie dere now till yer make up yer mind ter jine de Young Sleepers. Den yer can come an' let me know, an' I'll attend ter yer initeration. Till then yer'll stay where yer are, if it's a thousand years; fer no one'll come a-nigh yer an' yer can't find de way out."

While Bill was thus talking the other boys quietly slipped away. As he finished he also moved off, so softly that Derrick did not hear the sound of his retreating footsteps. It was not until some minutes had pa.s.sed that he realized that he had been left, and was alone.

Meantime those who had thus abandoned their victim to the horrors of black solitude, in what to him was an unknown part of the mine, were gathered together at no great distance from him. There they waited to gloat over the cries that they hoped he would utter as soon as he realized that he was abandoned. In this they were disappointed, for though they lingered half an hour not a sound did they hear; then two of the boldest among them decided to take a look at their prisoner.

Shielding the single lamp that lighted their steps so that its rays should not be seen at any great distance, they crept cautiously to where they had left him.

He was gone!

This had not been expected, and with an ill-defined feeling of dread they hurried back to the others and made their report.

"Oh, well, let him go!" exclaimed Bill Tooley, brutally. "'Twon't hurt him to spend a while in de gangway. Let's go up to supper, and afterwards come down an' hunt him."

As none of them dared to object to any proposal made by the bully, the whole gang of begrimed and evil-minded young savages hurried to the foot of the slope. Here they tumbled into a car, and in a few minutes were drawn up to the surface, where they scattered towards their respective homes and waiting suppers.

Paul Evert, who ever since work had ceased in the breaker, more than an hour before, had lingered near the mouth of the slope, waiting for the appearance of his friend, ventured to ask one of them if he had seen Derrick.

"Don't know nothing about him," was the reply, as, greatly alarmed to find the lad whom he had helped to persecute already made an object of inquiry, the Young Sleeper hurried away.

Bill Tooley had overheard Paul's question, and stepping up to him, he said, "Look a-here, young feller, yer ain't got no call as I knows on to be a meddling wid what goes on in de mine and don't concern you. I don't mind tellin' yer, though, that yer b.u.t.ty's doin' overwork, and mebbe won't come up all night. I heerd one of de bosses orderin' him to it."

Although Paul thought this somewhat strange, he knew that the miners frequently stayed down to do overwork, and was much relieved at such a plausible explanation of his friend's non-appearance. On his way home he stopped to tell Mrs. Sterling what he had heard. He found her very anxious, and just about to go out and make inquiries concerning her boy.

The information that Paul brought relieved her mind somewhat, and thanking him for it, she turned back into the house with a sigh, and gave little Helen her supper, at the same time setting aside a liberal portion for Derrick when he should come.

Until nearly ten o'clock she waited, frequently going to the door to look and listen; then she could bear the suspense no longer. Throwing a shawl over her head, and bidding Helen remain where she was for a few minutes, the anxious mother started to go to the house of the mine boss to gain certain information of her boy. As she opened her own front door, something that she saw caused her to utter a cry and stand trembling on the threshold.

CHAPTER VI

THE SECRET MEETING--A PLUNGE DOWN AN AIR-SHAFT

What Mrs. Sterling saw was her own son Derrick, who was just about to enter the house. As the light from behind her shone full upon him, he presented a sorry spectacle, and one well calculated to draw forth an exclamation from an anxious mother. Hatless and coatless, his face bruised, swollen, and so covered with blood and coal-dust that its features were almost unrecognizable, he could not well have presented a more striking contrast to the clean, cheerful lad whom she had sent down into the mine with a kiss and a blessing that very morning.

"Why, Derrick!" she exclaimed, the moment she made sure that it was really he. "What has happened to you? has there been an accident? They said you were kept down for overwork. Tell me the worst at once, dear!

Are you badly hurt?"

"No, indeed, mother," answered the boy in as cheerful a tone as he could command. "I am not much hurt, only bruised and banged a little by a blast that I carelessly stayed too close to. A little hot water and soap will put me all right again after I've had some supper; but, if you love me, mother, give me something to eat quickly, for I'm most starved."

By this time they were within the house, and as Mrs. Sterling hastened to make ready the supper she had saved for Derrick, he dropped into a chair utterly exhausted. He might well be exhausted, for what he had pa.s.sed through and suffered since leaving home that morning could not have been borne by a boy of weaker const.i.tution or less strength of will. He was greatly revived by two cups of strong tea and the food set before him. After satisfying his hunger he went to his own room, and took a bath in water as hot as he could bear it, and washed his cuts and bruises with white castile-soap, a piece of which Mrs. Sterling always managed to keep on hand for such emergencies. It was fortunate for her peace of mind that the fond mother did not see the cruel bruises that covered her boy's body from head to foot.

The bath refreshed him so much, and so loosened the joints that were beginning to feel very stiff and painful, that Derrick believed he was able, before going to bed, to perform the one duty still remaining to be done. Mrs. Sterling thought he had gone to bed, and was greatly surprised to see him come from his room fully dressed. When he told her that he must go out again to deliver an important message to the mine boss, she begged him to wait until morning, or at least to let her carry it for him. a.s.suring her that it was absolutely necessary that he should deliver the message himself that very night, and saying that he would be back within an hour, Derrick kissed his mother and went out.

On the street he met with but one person, a miner hurrying towards the slope, to whom he did not speak, and who he thought did not recognize him.

Mr. Jones had closed his house for the night, and was about to retire, when he was startled by a knock at the outer door. Recent events had rendered him so suspicious and cautious that he stepped to his desk and took from it a revolver, which he held in his hand as he stood near the door, and without opening it, called out,

"Who's there? and what do you want at this time of night?"

As softly as he could, and yet make himself heard, Derrick answered,

"It is I, sir, Derrick Sterling, and I have got something important to tell you."

At this answer a man who had stolen up behind Derrick, unperceived by him in the darkness, slipped away with noiseless but hurried footsteps.

"Is anybody with you?" demanded the mine boss, without opening the door.

"No, sir; I am all alone."

Then the door was cautiously opened, Derrick was bidden to step inside quickly, and it was immediately closed again and bolted. Leading the way into the library, the mine boss said, not unkindly, but somewhat impatiently,