The Boys of Crawford's Basin Part 17

CHAPTER XI

TOM'S SECOND WINDOW

Mrs. Appleby never did quite understand how her barrel of oil had been recovered for her. All she knew for certain was that her good friend, Mr. Connor, had somehow procured it from Yetmore, and that Yetmore was, as Mr. Connor said, "agreeable."

As for myself, when Tom that morning, taking me aside, related with many chuckles how he had occupied himself during the night, I must own that my only feeling was one of satisfaction at the thought that Yetmore had been made to restore the widow's property, and that the fear of ridicule would probably keep him silent on the subject. Sharing with most boys the love of fair play and the hatred of oppression, Tom's cleverness and promptness of action seemed to me altogether commendable.

Nevertheless, I foresaw one consequence of the transaction which, I thought, was pretty sure to follow, namely, that it would arouse in Yetmore an angry resolve to "get even" with Tom by hook or by crook.

That he would resort to active reprisals if the opportunity presented itself I felt certain, and so I warned our friend. But Tom, careless as usual, refused to take any precautions, believing that Yetmore would not venture as long as he--Tom--had, as he expressed it, two such damaging shots in his magazine as the story of the lead boulder and the story of the oil barrel; on both of which subjects he had, with rare discretion, determined to keep silence unless circ.u.mstances should warrant their disclosure.

It was not till I had reached home again and had jubilantly retailed the story to my father, that I began to understand how there might be yet another aspect to the matter. Instead of receiving it with a hearty laugh and a "Good for Tom," as I had antic.i.p.ated, he shook his head and said:

"I'm sorry to hear it. Tom made a mistake that time. That Yetmore should be made to give up the barrel of oil is proper enough; but what right has Tom to appropriate to himself the duties of judge, jury and executive officer? It is just such cases as this that earn for the American people the reputation of a nation without respect for law. No.

Tom meant well, I know, but in my opinion he made a mistake all the same."

"I never thought of it in that light," said I; "so it is just as well, probably, that Tom didn't let me into the secret beforehand, because I'm afraid I should have been only too ready to help if he had asked me."

"Yes, it is just as well you were not given the choice, I expect,"

replied my father, smiling. "I'm glad Tom had the sense to take the whole responsibility on his own shoulders. Does he expect that Yetmore will be content to let the matter rest where it is?"

"He seems to think so; though he is such a heedless fellow that it wouldn't bother him much if he thought otherwise."

"Well, in my opinion he will do well to keep his eyes open. As I told you before, I think Yetmore's natural caution would prompt him to keep within the law, but it is not impossible now, Tom having set him the example--for one such transgression of the law is apt to breed another--that he will think himself justified in resorting to lawless measures in his turn; especially as he will have that fellow, Long John, jogging his elbow and whispering evil counsels in his ear all the time."

How correct my father was in his presumption; how Long John did devise a scheme of retaliation; and how Joe and I inadvertently got our fingers into the pie, I shall have to relate in due course.

But though my father disapproved of Tom's action, that fact did not lessen his desire to help his friend when I had related to him how Tom had indeed spent all his savings on Mrs. Murphy and her family.

"What a good-hearted, harum-scarum fellow he is!" exclaimed my father.

"He knows--in fact, no one knows better--that there is a possible fortune waiting for him somewhere up here on Lincoln; he saves up all winter so that he may be free to go and hunt for it in the spring; yet at the first note of distress, away he runs and tumbles all his savings into Mrs. Murphy's lap, who, when all is said and done, has no real claim upon him, thus taking the risk of being stranded in town while Long John goes off and cuts him out. What are we going to do about it, boys? What can you suggest?"

"It would certainly be a shame," said Joe, "if Tom, by his act of charity, should put himself out of the running in the search for that vein of galena. Yet he will surely do so if he can't raise that money.

And even if he should raise it, he might be late in getting it, in which case Long John would get the start of him."

"That's the case in a nutsh.e.l.l," my father a.s.sented; "and, as I said before: What are we going to do about it?"

"Why----" Joe began; and then he suddenly jumped up and coming across the room he whispered something in my ear. I replied with a nod; whereupon Joe returned to his chair, and addressing my father once more, said:

"I'll tell you what we'll do, Mr. Crawford. Phil and I made forty dollars last fall cutting timbers--it was Tom who got us our order, too--and we have it still. We'll put that in--eh, Phil?--if it will be any use."

"Yes," said I. "Gladly."

"Good!" exclaimed my father. "Then that settles it. Now, _I'll_ tell you what we'll do. I'll add sixty dollars to it--that is all I can afford just now--and you two shall ride back to Sulphide this afternoon, give Tom the money, and tell him he shall have fifty more in a couple of months if he needs it. And tell him at the same time that he needn't go mortgaging his little house. We don't want security from Tom Connor: we know him too well. I'd rather have his word than some men's bond. You shall ride up to see him this afternoon, and you needn't hurry back to-day; for that rain of last night has made the ground too wet to continue plowing; and, if I'm not mistaken, we're in for another storm to-night, in which case the soil won't be in condition again for two or three days."

I need hardly say that Joe and I were delighted to undertake this mission, and about four o'clock we reached Mrs. Appleby's, where we put up our ponies in her stable. Then, as Tom would not be quitting work for another hour, instead of going direct to his house, we climbed up to the Pelican, intending to catch him there and walk home with him.

Presently arriving at the great white dump of bleached porphyry to which the citizens of Sulphide were accustomed to point with pride as an indication of the immense amount of work it had taken to make the Pelican the important mine it was, we scrambled up to the engine-house, where for some minutes we stood watching the busy engine as it whirled to the surface the buckets of waste. Then, stepping over to the mouth of the shaft, we paused again to watch the top-men as they emptied the big buckets into the car and trundled the car itself to the edge of the dump, upset it, and trundled it back again for more.

As we stood there, a miner came up, and stepping out of the cage, nodded to us in pa.s.sing.

"Want anybody, boys?" he asked.

"We're waiting for Tom Connor," I replied. "He's down below, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's down in the fifth. I'll take you down there if you like. I'm going back in a minute."

"What do you think, Joe?" I asked.

"Yes, let's go," my companion replied. "I've never been inside a mine, and I should like to see one."

"All right," said the miner. "Come over here to the dressing-room and I'll give you a lamp and a couple of slickers. It's a bit wet down there."

Joe and I were soon provided with water-proof coats, and in company with our new friend we stepped into the cage, when the miner, shutting the door behind us, called out to the engineer, "Fifth level, McPherson,"

and instantly the floor of the cage seemed to drop from under us. After a fall of several miles, as it appeared to us, the cage stopped, when, peering through the wire lattice-work, we saw before us a dark pa.s.sage, upon one side of which hung a white board with a big "5" painted upon it.

"Here you are," said the miner, stepping out of the cage and handing us a lighted lamp. "Just walk straight along this drift about three hundred feet--it's all plain sailing--and you'll find Tom Connor at work there.

I'm going on down to the seventh myself."

With that he stepped back into the cage, rang the bell, and vanished, leaving us standing there eyeing each other a little dubiously at finding ourselves left to our own guidance, four hundred feet below the surface of the earth.

"I hadn't reckoned on that," said I. "I thought he was coming with us."

"So did I," replied Joe. "But it doesn't really matter. All we have to do is to walk along this pa.s.sage; so let's go ahead."

That our obliging friend had been right when he stated that it was "a bit wet" down here was evident, for the drops of water from the roof of the drift kept pattering upon our slickers, and presently, when we had advanced something over half the distance, one of them fell plump upon the flame of our lamp and put it out!

We stopped short, not knowing what pitfalls there might be ahead of us, and each felt in all his pockets for a match. We had none! Never antic.i.p.ating any such contingency as this, we had ventured into this black hole without a match in our possession.

I admit that we were scared--the darkness was so very dark and the silence so very silent--but fortunately it was only for a moment.

Standing stock still, for, indeed, we dared not move, we shouted for Tom, when, to our infinite relief, we heard his familiar voice call out:

"Hallo, there! That you, Patsy? I'm coming. Does the boss want me?"

The next moment a light appeared moving towards us, and as soon as we could safely do so we advanced to meet it.

"How are you, Tom?" we both cried, simultaneously, a.s.suming an off-hand manner, as though we had not been scared a bit.

Tom stopped, not recognizing us for a moment, and then exclaimed:

"Hallo, boys! What are you doing down here? Who brought you down?"

We told him how we came to be there, and how our lamp had gone out; at which Tom shook his head.

"Well, it was certainly a smart trick to send you down into this wet hole and not even see that you had a match in your pocket. What would you have done if I'd happened to have left the drift?"

The very idea gave me cold chills all down my back.