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Copyright, 1885 & 1891, by Beadle & Adams. Entered at Post Office, New York, N.Y., as second class matter. Feb. 18, 1900.

 

: 3 M. J. LIVERS & CO., Publishers, ; 4
Wo. 59, weihed (James Sullivan, Proprietor,) Price 5 Cents, Vol. V.

379 Pearl Street, New York. $2.50 a Year...

 

 

 

 
 
  
    

     

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Copyright, 1885 & 1891, by Beadle & Adams. Entered at Post Office, New York, N.Y., as second class matter. Feb. 18, 1900.

 

M. J. IVERS & CO., Publishers,

é Published os ; Price 5 Cents,
fe ( 3S a r 7 .
No, 59, Every Week. 399 pearl Htrecr, Now Nork. $2.50 a Year. Vol. V,

 

im, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

BY CHARLES MORRIS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     

= ——————
BUT THE MURDEROUS BLOW WAS NOT GIVEN. LITTLE TIM WAS SAVED; FOR AT THAT
INSTANT THE VILLAIN WAS SEIZED FROM BEHIND,

     
Lame Tim, tha Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

Lame Tim,
The Mule Boy of the Mines;

oR,
Life Among the Black Diamonds.

BY CHARLES MORRIS,
AUTHOR OF “THE BOSS BOY,” “WILD WILL,”
“BILLY BAGGAGE,” ETC,, ETC.

CHAPTER I.
A MINER’S SUPPER TABLE.

“@rr now, you lazy cur! Git, I say! or I'll
kick a hole in your upper works quicker nora
mule ’d kick through an inch plank. Jist you
try to play it on me, and you'll find it ain’t that
ph mine boss you're a-foolin’ with. Mind
that!”

The speaker was a raw-boned six-footer,
brawny-armed and broad-shouldered.. He was
aap a miner, for his face was as begrimed
as coal dust could make it, and his muscular
arms were blackened to the elbow. The harsh,
stern lines of his face bespoke a hard character,
which could be brutal on occasion, and his voice
had a rasping violence in its tone.

The party addressed was a boy, who might
have been sixteen or eighteen years of age, but
was very small for his years. His face was
intelligent, but narrow and pinched, as if he had
been half-starved, while there was a scared look
in his eyes, as of one who is in constant dread,

He held a bucket in his hand, with which he
walked away at the sternorder. As be walked
he limped. Evidently he was lame, The man
looked angrily afterhin. \ |

“ And don’t lose no time, neither,” he yelled.
“T won't have no snails loafin’ about me. And

when I say a thing I mean it. Mind that!”
The boy made no answer, but moved on with-
out complaining. Yet there was evidently a
rebellious feeling in his heart, which showed
itself in his face. ; :

“T s’pose I never git tired,” he muttered t
himself. ‘I s’pose I’s made of wrought iron,
like a steam ingine. Arter a chap’s been mule
drivin’ ‘all day he mought be gi’n a rest, I

 

think. But I daresn’t open my mouth, for fear

Pickax Pete ’ll jump down my throat.”

He limped on up the mountain path to where
_aclear spring gushed out of the living rock, and
filled a deep basin ere its overflowing waters

 

and proceeded to vigorously wash his arms and
face, bringing back some of the original color
of his skin.

“There!- I begin to feel like a Christian,” he
grumbled, as he shook the drops from his fin-
gers. ‘“ Where’s that blasted lazy Tim? I s’pose
he’s gobblin’ the grub, hang his pictur’ !” E

The boy reappeared at this moment.

‘‘Supper’s ready,” he announced.

He took the basin, and began to wash him-
self, a little fearfully, as if in dread that his.
slightest action might rouse the anger of -the
tyrant. Nor was he wrong.

“Seems to me yer gettin’ thunderin’ nice,”
growled the miner, as Tim emptied the blacken-
ed water from the basin and refilled it from the
Bucket. ‘‘The water your betters has washed
in ain’t good ’nough for you, hey? Water’s
mighty plenty where you was brung up, I calk-
Nate? A reg’ular ’ristocrat, you is! Next thing
you'll want to be fed on chiny. But if you bint
sich a thing, if I don’t bu’st your brainpan I’m ©
a beggar! Mind that!” ‘

The scowling tyrant turned and stamped an-~
grily. into the cottage, leaving the trembling

oy to finish his ablutions. It was bad enough
to be blamed for possible faults, but Tim was no
more likely to ask for china plate than for

marble statues. .He knew no more of the one -

than of the other. ‘

Finishing his washing he timidly entered the
cottage. The room in which he now found him-
self was a narrow, and very sparely furnished
apartment,
taken up by a cooking stove, and by a rude
closet, for its few pots, pans and dishes. A
table, spread with a supper of dry bread and
fried pork, occupied another rtion of the
room. At this table Pickax Pete was busily
occupied. Further back, leaning over a pan
that spluttered on the stove, was the woman.
who had been called by the unmelodious name of
Sukey. She was a robust, but thin featured

ersonage, with a complaining expression on

er visage, as if accustomed to look upon the
shady side of life. She officiated as mistress of
the mansion, being the wife of Peter Plumtree,
or Pickax Pete, to give him his mine name, ~

“What are you loafin’ about, Tim?’ asked
Pete, a little mollified by ue supper. ‘Come
here, and swaller your gra ! Ther’s no use
starvin’ yourself, as I kin see, when pork’s

plenty.”
The a very eee accepted this invita-
tion, for his day’s work had made him hungry;

and the meal peg oe’ in silence, there bein
no conversation béyond an occasional grow

bubbled into a narrow stream, almost buried from the miner, such asa tiger might make over

under its thick-growing grasses.

The place irom whic
miner’s dwel ing, or hut, as it would be better
called, It was a roughly planked structure, of
three, or

|

xbhaps four small rooms, dropped marked.

_ | his food,
he had started was a |

Sukey now took up the pan from the stove,
and emptied its contents into a grimy dish.

“Yere’s some fried apples, Pete,” she re-
**) got some from the green-stuff ped-

carelessly down at the mountain foot, and sur- dler to-day, ‘cause I thought as you mought like

rounded by a rudely-tilled garden plot, inclosed
by » broken-clown fence.
“Give me the water,”
miner, as the boy return
“ And dig in an’ see if Sukey’s ready with
grub, for I’m hungry as a catamount.”

He snatched the bucket from the boy's hand, | me I.guess not,” answered the

taal

owled the burly slush as that? I wonder what you take me fur
with his burden. Mrs, Piumtree, a-wastin’ my ban arsed money
the on sich truck? Hist it out the winder, and let

‘em, 5

‘Me like em?’ roared Pete. ‘Me like sich

e hogs root it up. It’s only fit for them.”
woman,decidedly,

,

~~

A considerable portion of it was —

 

 

 
 

 

t

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. 8

all, You’re not the only one that’s to feed in
this yere house. Tim and me can eat the apples,
and we're not hogs neither.”

Mrs. Plumtree was evidently not afraid of
her tyrannical busband.. Tim, whose face had
fallen at the proposition to throw it to the hogs,
brightened up again. It was not often he got a
relish to his fried bacon.

“Good Lord, sich taste!” grumbled the miner.
He pushed his chair violently back from the
tabls. “Ts'pectit’ll be roast punkin’ next, or
fricasseed chestnut burrs.
has got a French cook, like Mrs,.Plumtree, If
you want to swaller that trash, swaller it, and
don’t be goin’ on about it, an’ a-coaxin’ me. to
eat it. Havgit, woman, do you s’pose I ain’t

_ had no fetchin’ up?’

“Git your pipe, Pete, and maka yourself
searce,” she quietly answered, ‘‘ Nobody ain’t
goin’ to coax you.’ ;

* “A)) right! Stuff yerself as much as you
want to. The boy’s choking hisself now: I
dunno ho 7 it is that walkin’ skeletons kin take
{n so much provender. Why, he’d mak a famine
in a corn-crib, that boy.” : ;

__ Pete threw down the red coal with which he
had been lighting his pipe, flung open the door
of the cottage, and stalked heavily out, his voice
sinking into a low growl.

‘Your room’s better nor your company,” re-
marked Sukey, after her lord and master had
passed out of hearing. ‘Everything goes
wrong when you're about, And when you
‘ain’t, too, for that matter. Everything’s allers
going wrong.”

She heaved a deep sigh. Z

“We're poor, miserable, unhappy critters,
Tim. But no matter—let’s eat the apples.”

Tim made no ado in obeying orders. He had
heard Mrs. Plumtree’s opinions of matters and
things before, and was not likely to let them
spoil his appetite. :

“My eyes, they’re mighty good!” exclaimed |

the poor lad, who could almost have eaten
boiled flints with; a relish, by way of variety,
“ They’re jist prime!” 4

“Do you like em, Tim?” asked Sukey, grati-
fied by his praise,

‘Sooner have them than ice-cream and pouné:
cake,” asserted the boy, as he continued to ea

“7 don’t fancy you know much ’bout that
sort 0’ vittals,” laughed Sukey.

‘Don’t I?’ exclaimed Tim, earnestly. ‘‘ Red
Mike guv me a spoonful onc’t, down at Scran-
ton, when we went there on a picnic. Lawsee!
I thought I’d swallered an ice-house! Don’tlike

_ that kind of cold vittals.” :

Sukey laughed at Tim’s experience of ice-
cream. She began to clear the table.

“Bring me in some water, boy,” she com-
manded, ; 2 ;

Tim obeyed this order with more alacrity
than he had that of her husband. It was given
in a very different tone. He brought in the re-
mainder of the bucket of water from which
they had washed. ee ae ;

_ “That's right, Tim. Now make yerself Scarce

ie ‘a Iclean up.” ;
im strolled out of doors. He had made an

-\_ wnusually good supper, and felt happy acvord- °

 

« ¥¢ you don’t want it you needn’t eat it, that’s

*Tain’t everybody as |

 

ingly. He sneaked quietly around the corner
of the house, for Pickax Pet sat smoking just
in front, and the boy felt that he could enjoy
life better out of sight of his burly tormeptor,
The miner had seated himself on a balf-rotten
stump, the remnant of a tree that had once
shaded the.cottage. With crossed legs and
arms, he sat puffing volumes of smoke from his
ipe.
. v spare-framed neighbor strolled up from a
near cottage. Healso was pufling at a begrimed

pipe.

*‘ Hello, Pete! .Supper over, hey?”

“You bet!” answered Pete. ‘Squat yercelf,
Jake, and let’s hear from ye, Yonder’s a stone
about your pattern.” :

Jake took the seat pointed out. Y

‘* How’s things down your drift, Pete

“Blue as thunder and lightnin’. How dye
find ’em, Jake?” \

“Shady, shady,” answered Jake, with ean
ominous shake of the head.

“Ther’s no use talkin’, lad. Something’s got
to be did afore long. Mind that!”

“Pve a notion ye’re ‘bout right,” and Jake
pulled gloomily at bis pipe.

“It’s fat cuttin’s for the mine bosscs; but it’s
lean as starved mutton for us. You take that
in,” asserted Pete. ‘1’m one as ain't fur stand-
- it. I’m not quarrelsome, Jake. You know

at.
spit on; and I swear I won’t be, neither.” He
ended with a fierce oath,

Jake coughed. He was not quite ready to

| testify to his friend’s peaceable disposition. He

on himself nearer to Pete, and his voice
ell.
‘‘Tell you what it is,” he remarked. ‘The
boys down our way are doin’ some queer talk,
The bosses il wake up some fine mornin’ and
find the skies is down. You see?”

‘““They’re gettin’ cantankerous?”

“ Deuced cantankerous.”

“1f ther’s a strike in the air, ’m yer hoss.
Nobody never knowed Pete Plumtree to go back
on the boys. Mind that!”

Jake hitched himself still nearer, and his voice
fell toa whisper.

“Tt’s in theair, Pete. To-morrow night. At
Red Mike’s in the valley. Nine o’clock sbarp’s
the hour, and mum’s the word. Dye take?”

“Do I look like a jackass that’s’ been brought
up on buttermilk?” growled Pete. ‘Of courseI
take. What are you buyin’ me fur? If there’s
fun afloat, I’m your man!” ae

“Hush! ‘You mought be heard. Where’s
that boy of yours?” ;

“Who? Tim?” asked Pete, ot savagely
around. ‘“ You.ain’t got no notion he’d peach?
Why, I'd chop the young rat up into shoestrings
and sell em at a penuy, a grab, if he as much as
opened his potato-mil “sf

And Pete’s fierce expression showed that he
meant it all. ; :

CHAPTER II.
WHAT HAPPENED 4FTER DARK,
BETWEEN eight and nine o’clock of ths next
evening there\was considerable movement in the
valley below Edge Hill, the name of the moun-

tain on which the wining village bordered. It

Sate Se ES SEE

But I don’t like to be walked over and ©

ie

%
xing

Reese!
RS eee eit ;
4

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

was & moonless night, and only the stars threw

their faint light upon the gloomy scene. Yet

the figures which were making their way

through the deep shadows seemed to have no

difficulty. They were probably too well ac-
uainted with the locality to need daylight to
irect then.

From whatever quarter they came they
seemed to all move toward one point. This was
@ winer’s house which stood on the Icwer level of
the valley near a winding stream which ran brisk-
ly down the glen. Itappeared, so far as could be

seen in the darkness, a larger habitation than |

that of Pickax Fete.

A faint light shone from one window, and it
was toward this that the movements of the
dark figures were directed. One by one the
passed through its dim line of light, their
stealthy movement revealed for an instant, ere
ee again disappeared in the darkness be-
yon : 7

. At the same hour that these mysterious
movements were taking place another figure
-came down the narrow village lane that ran

past the rendezvous of the miners. But this }

person was evidently of a different stamp. His
erect, swinging walk was in marked contrast
with their slouching gait. His well-cut, gentle-
manly attire differed widely from their soiled,
worn and ill-fitting clothes. Their sullen si-
lence was replaced in him by a song which he
hummed. to himself as he wilked briskly on,
In form he was tall and stout, in face open,
good natured and shrewd. /
Yet this person seemed to be moving in the
_ game direction with the sullen figures who
skulked through the fields. His course took
him directly toward the rendezvous of the
miners. : :

In fact, he came opposite it just as one of the

latter was making his signal knock upon the
door. Something peculiar in the latter ar-
rested the attention of the new-comer. He
aes in his walk, and remained silent, hid-
en in the darkness, his eyes fixed keenly upon
the door. He could but make out faint outlines
of the figure, but some low words came dis-
tinctly to his ears, oa

‘Who comes there?” was asked from within,

“Schuylkill Sam.” i

“On what business?” '

_ “ Foul weather to tyrants.”
Enter, brother.” :

The door opened just wide enough. for the
visitor to slip in, and was instantly closed: The
unseen listener to this mysterious conversation
gave vent to a low whistle of surprise. XSite

“Hal” he ejaculated, *‘ there’s deviltry afoot,
‘then. Come, come, this may be a lucky walk
of mine. I’ve smelt powder in the air for a
month ‘Foul weather’ eh! By Jove, is

_ that pointing to me? It’s well to be on guard,
-atany rate. This is Red Mike’s shanty, and he
is the he
ware that he does not butt too hard against me.
I have him s)otted, the red haired villain!”

He resumed his walk, a stern look replacin
the - nature of his face, There was evi-
-dently troubis ahead. His eyes glanced keenly
to right and left as he

advanced,
Dark as it was his vi

ad rascal of the lot. But let him be-.

 

warded. The faint flumination of the star-
light revealed to his keen eyes two one
on each side of the road, who were taking the
direct course for Red Mike’s habitation. The
observer stood in the shadow of a tree until
they had passed. He did not wish to be seen.
“Ts a movement in force,” he said, witha
grim smile. ‘‘There threatens to be trouble
afloat, and plenty of it. I’d give a breaker full
of coal to get a hint of what’s going on ae
those fellows. I might disguise myself, and ge
in by using their password, but. they know me
too well, and it would be a sorry trick for me if

| I was discovered.”

He shook his head and walked on. It was des-
tined to be a journey of surprises for him. He
had Sot gore very far before his attention was
attracted by the sound of voices at no great
distance in advance, Suspecting that these
might have something to do with the secret
meeting he moved forward with great caution.
He was sufficiently interested in the purpose of

the conspiracy to be willing to take any means

to discover it. t

-A row of trees here bordered the road.
throwing a deep shadow out to its center. It
was very dark under their shelter, and he took
advantage of this to approach the talkers as
closely as possible.

Soon their voices became more distinct. He ©

could make out words, though they spoke ir
cautious tones. The voice of a boy mingled ir
the conversation.

The eavesdropper smiled knowingly.

“‘T ought to know that voice,” he said to him

self,

A few more steps were cautiously taken
which brought him more under the covert oj
the trees. He could easily now make out the
conversation. :

But it is necessary to leave him there and go

back a little in the events of that night. There _

were others of our characters concerned in this
outdoor conversation on subjects not intended
for the general ear.

Immediately after ee that ev Tim
Truepenny, which was the given name of
ax Pete’s boy, limped away from the miner’s
pomeee after helping Mrs. Plumtree in her
work, ; :

He had an object in view which he wished to
effect while the summer twilight lasted. He
made his way along the edge of the moun-
tain, following a narrow path which had been
made through the thick bushes, which clothed
the foot of the slope,

Tim kept on for nearly a mile, cane nu-
merous small streams, an winding through the
undergrowth. “

-** Pm afeard it Il be dark afore I get there,”
he muttered, ‘And if that cloud comes up,

it’s goin’ to be blue dark to-night. I wish the —

critters was plenty nearer home.”

ick-—

In fact, Tim was out on a visit to his rabbit-

traps, which he had set in a thicket famous f
that long-eared tribe,
On this
a brace of i
game, and resettin
return journey.
rabbits together and

occasion he was successful.
rabbits in his traps. Removing the
the traps, he started on his
e had tied the - of the
flung the cord around his

°

tor 2
He found —

“4
ie

 
 

 

 

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. 6

 

neck, so that the furry creatures hung down in
front of him.

“Guess Dll take the short cut ’cross the val-
ley,” be remarked. _‘‘ Don't keer if the boys
does see me now, They can’t tell where the
traps is by smellin’ the rabbits.” |

The darkness was now thickening. Twilight
had faded out, and dusky shadows fell within
every copse and glen. Only on the open plain
a faint light remained. Tim was a considera-
able distance from beme, and made his way
slowly along the grassy vale, following the
course of the stream. There was a pleasant air |
moving, and he highly enjoyed his summer-
night walk.

t was considerably past eight o’clock when
he came out on the edge of the lane that ran
down past Red Mike’s cottage. He seated him-
self for a moment on a knoli near the fence to
enjoy the cooling air. A thick bush threw its
shadows on the boy, and hid him from the view
of two men, who came across the open field in
that direction. They were conversing in low |
and earnest tones. ‘ :

Tim was not specially inclined to listen to
what was not intended for his ears, but he had
no reason to imagine that these men were giv-
ing their secrets to the winds, so he did not
move. They paused on coming opposite him, |
and looked heedfully around. ‘

“Tf the boys says buck him, buck him’s the |
word!” one of them remarked, in savage tones.
« And I’m the boy as ’ill do it, if it’s put on me. |
I hate him like p’ison.”

“‘T don’t love him,” replied the other. “ But
I wouldn't like to take my own hands to him, I
confess that.” |

“You wouldn’t, eh? I'd as lieve choke him as
I would a cat. Why, shoot him, he guv me |
slack yesterday jist ‘cause I opened my Davy to

= a spark fur my pipe. I paid him back with

 

aw, and the fust thing I knowed he clipped me
under the chin, and down went my house!
clip him next, bu’st him.” ,
he man’s voice was full of concentrated sav-
eness. :
“‘ Hush!” warned the other. ‘‘ You're talkin’ |
too loud. Let’s git on to Mike’s. If Jack Man- :
ly wasto hear—” :

“He'll feel afore he'll hear,” interrupted the |

other. ‘Gin me asafe clip at him and see if |
I don’t bu’st his brainpan.” = |
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted. |
Tim at this moment sprung up from his cover-
ing bush, his young face burning with indigna- )
tion. |
“You—you big coward!” he cried, with , bit- |
ter contempt. ‘You hayen’t got the heart to
face Mr. Manly. And he jist served you right
when he knocked you down. Is’pose you want
to blow up the mine jist when you please!” |
The men were thunderstruck by this fierce
assault, uttered with all the indignation ip_
Tim’s young soul. His slight frame trembled
with excitement as he spoke. :
“illo!” cried the miner, ‘ what popinjay t
have we raised here? Who is it that’s blowin’ |
Jack Manly’s horn in.that style?”
He grasped Tim’s shoulder and pulled him out
of the shadow of the bushes, He then glared
‘savagely down into his face, |

‘Hal it’s you, you little mule monkey, is itt
So ye’r’ spyin’ on us, blast you? Goin’ back to
blow on us, I s’pose?”

He gave the boy a fierce shake between every
sentence,

**] didn’t spy on you,” cried Tim, as soon as
he could get breath. ‘And I never blowed on
nobody. But Ill say Mr. Manly served you
right if you shake me to pieces.” *

“You will, you young viper? There’s other
ways then besides shakin We'll see if I can’t
cure you of meddlin’ in men’s bizness.”

He grasped Tim firmly while he drew back
his brawny arm. The boy was too angry to be
frightened, though he shrunk from the savage
face that glared upon him.

“Don’t!” cautioned the miner’s companion.
“Tim won't blow.”

“Who's doin’ this thing?’ cried the fierce
miner. ‘‘ By the seven pipers—”

He paused astounded. For at that moment
the boy was torn from his grasp and a stern
face confronted him.

“Well?” came in firm, severe accents, ‘Go
on. Finish your sentence!” 3

The two men fell back in dismay, while they
gazed on this apparition with startled eyes,

“Jack Manly, by all that’s unlucky!” cried
the second miner.

‘* At your service!” was the sarcastic reply.
“ Don’t let me interrupt you. I am highly in-
terested in your conversation.”

The next moment the two mem had turned,
and were retreating at a full run across the
ape as much frightened as if they had seen a
ghost,

The person who had given them this scare
was the individual of whom we have already

‘spoken; he who had passed Red Mike’s; and

had stopped on hearing voices at the roadside.

A grim smile curled his lips as he followed the
retreating men with his eyes.

**Cowards and villains!” he muttered, ‘I
wish I knew what deviltry you are hatching.
So, Tim, my lad, these fellows were going to
do you a harm, eh?”

“It looked like it, Mr. Manly,” answered
Tim, respectfully.

“Who were they?”
“It was Jake Brace and Blowhard Tom.
That’s all us boys calls him.”

“A good name too,” smiled Mr. Manly. “ But

what was it all about?”

“They’re swearin’ to sarve you out, Mr. Man- ~~

ly. Tom says you knocked him down, and he’s
a-goin’ to clip you fur it.”

“Knocked him down did I? For carrying
an open lamp in the fire-damp? 1 wish I bad
hroken the fool’s jaw, and I might have stopped
his wagging itso glibly.”

The two fugitives meanwhile had run on until
they reached Red Mike’s cottage, Ctiving the
appointed signal they were admitted, and
found themselves in a room which al; eady con-
tained a dozen men, who nearly filied its nar-
row space, :

These were seated around on chairs. boxes, or

| on the floor in lieu of other soppert, Their be-
“4

grimed and sallow faces, faint!
of a tallow candle, looked spectral, as th
their eyes on the new-comers.

lit by the light

ey fixed

 
  

 

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

“¥Yer_late, boys,” remarked Red Mike, the
proprietor, whose shock of red bair showed the
origin of his name. ‘‘ What’s kept you?”

‘Nothin’ but a bit of a rat in our tracks,”
replied Tom. ‘‘That boy of yourn, Pickax
Pete—ihat little devil of a Tim Truepenny—jist
look out fur him.”

‘““ Why?’ asked Pete, savagely.

“Cause he’s a young traitor, that’s all. He
trailed us, and cotched us sayin’ some’at ’bout
Jack Manly, an’ the young hound swore he’d
blow on us,”

“He did?” cried Pete, rising to his fet, with
_a face that burned with anger. ‘Then if I
don’t scorch it out of him my name ain’t Pete
Plumtree! He’s been gittin’ thunderin’ can-
tankerous of late, but he’s got no fool to deal
with when he’s got me. Mind that!”

——

CHAPTER Il,

"THE RENDEZVOUS AT RED MIKE’S,

THe conspirators who had so stealthily
eng into their assembly-room at Red
ike’s, were as hardened and reckless-looking |
a set of reprobates as could well have been got
together. With heavy, lowering brows, dull
but fierce eyes, unkempt and matted hair, faces
and hands begrimed with the black dust of
their daily labof, their sallow complexions
made ghastly by the faint candle-light, they
presented a most unprepossessing appearance.
And there was a bitter energy of tone, as they
took the oath which Red Mike administered to
them, which showed that they were in deadly
earnest in their purpose.

“¢1t’s not for fun it is, that ye’ve come here,”
remarked that auburn-haired personage. ‘ Be
jabers, boys, we're not that sort as puts our-
selves out o’ the way fer a bit of ascreed. It’s
work as is in-the wind, and sorry’s the day ef
we don’t come up to the livil o’ that bin ag ota
maybe a peg or two beyant. Am I right, st
Ef it’s so don’t be "feared to spake your minds.”

“Fearedis it!” roared a black-muzzled fellow

’

 

who sat back of the = ge “ An’ what do
you take us for, thin? D’ye s’pose we’s got no
earts in our carcasses, Red Mi ©, a8 Ye talk so |

like an idyot? It’s little bones I’d make at all |
at all o’ tellin’ him his carackter till his face. |
An’ that’s me, wid Patsy McDoon fur me |
name.” '
““Ye’ve had many a chance, Patsy,” retorted ©
Pickax Pete, in a contemptuous tone. ‘ Wh
didn’t ye do it, since ye’re so bold? He wouldn’t
have eat youif you spoke back when he guv
you his ’pinion in short-hand last Tuesday come
a week. Ye’ve got a bold tongue now, but you
were as mute as a kicked mule then.” |
“An? if I was I had good r’ason for’t,”
oo Patsy. ‘It’s my motto, as ther’s a
e fur everything.” |
‘Belay all that!” cried another of ’the gang.
‘This isn’t the time for blowing. We’ve been
brung here together by order of the head cen-
ter, and it isn’t fer to growl and call hard
names, Pll be warrant for that. I move .we
to bizness.”
‘Which is we’s to decide what’s to be done |

with that hard-headed mine boss, as ain’t got |

een nor no sense in him,” supplied Red
ike,
“T move we fling him in the sump,” suggested

one.
“Or tie him to a breast and light the blast,”
chimed in anothéf.

“Or drop him down the old Carline shaft,” _

remarked a third. :

‘“‘Or soften his brains wid a monkey-wrench,
and toss him on the lift track,” was the fourth
suggestion. "i

‘“* Has any fool else got anything else to say?”
asked Pickax Pete, sarcastically. ‘‘ Spit it out,
if ye have, and when ye’re done talkin’ blas
stuff and nonsense we’ll come down to common »
sense, if nobody’s got no eee A feller
mought think that Jack Manly was a baby and
was axin’ you to rock his cradle. But ye’ll find
he’s another sort. Mind that now!”

“¢ Hist!” warned one of the party. .

All grew silent in alarm.

“Tt’s only a limb of the oak tree outside,
scrapin’ the roof,” explained Red Mike. “It’s
a way it has. Howsomever, boys, maybe we’s
a bit saft in havin’ nobody on the lookout. Ther’s

uick ears beyant and some of our chat mought
slip through the walls. I move that Patsy
McDoon be the man.”

“Sure an’ I’s got no ’jections,” answered
Patsy: ‘But, 1’d like to have a bit pistol or
summat. Ef it’s Manly hisself as comes spyin’
‘bout here I'll plug him, Faix, I'd like nothin’
better.”

“Don’t shoot ’cept ye can’t nee it,” returned |
Mike. ‘‘Shootin’s dangerous, Drop him a tip
o’ the blackthorn or pitch the omadboun in the
creek, Likely, though, there’s no one there.
But it’s as cheap to be safe as not. And a bit
cheaper, maybe.”

The conference ended in Patsy taking his

-his stand outside the door of the cottage, con-

cealed by the thick shadows thrown

one
_close leaved ouk which overhung the building. —

Their sentinel being thus posted, the con-
eee proceeded more regularly in their de-
liberations For some reason they bitterly
hated Jack ee
But they feared him quite as much as they
hated him, and were somewhat in the predica-
ment of the mice in the fable. There was no
one very willing to “bell the cat.”

‘* Ther’s no back water in the man,” remarked
Red Mike, in a surly tone. ‘‘ He’s all grit. Ph
say that for him, and I ain’t wastin’ no love on

aes : ;

“Some on us has got to tip him the blud
anyhow,” answered Bill Bates. ‘Jist to pe
mer some sense into his thick skull, It’s not to
quite murder him, ye know.” :

“Paix an’ I wouldn’t drop no tears on his
coffin,” Mike savagely answered. ‘I move we
pull the straws for the chap asis to do it.”

This proposal was readily accepted. A num-
ber of straws of different lengths were pre-
pared, and concealed in Mike’s hand, with sheir
ends equally exposed.

“The longest straw is the one that’s

to give
Jack Manly a tip on the brainpan, Dye take?

6 A 9
“Pail, hin, And luck tiDl ye.” ae
One by one the miners stepped up and pulled

the mine superintendent, |

=

 

 
7

ct

 

 

\

. chanced to hear them.

 

_ pat the boy’s head.

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. Bye

their straws in silence. They looked nervously
at the results, some of them a little pale.
“J's Pickax Pete, for a shebang!” cried Bill

tes.

“Tt’s me, is it?’ and a dark scowl came on
Pete’s face. ‘Well, I’m his hoss. If I don’t
fetch him a sockdologer as’ll make him see—”

The sentence was never ended. For at that
instant there came from outside the sharp re-
port of a pistol, that rung like a carronade in
their startled ears.

“* May the divil fly away wid us, but I know
its tone!” cried Red Mike. ‘It’s the voice of
the bit of a hoss pistol as Patsy carried in his
pocket. The hasty fool! I warrant he’s killed
soetely, and raised the whole place.”

‘** Is it he?” exclaimed another. ‘‘ He couldn’t
hit an owl if it was winkin’ in his face. But the
noise is wuss nor the harm.”

They ran hastily out, not knowing what dis-
aster to expect,

But leaving them to their quest, we must
somewhat back in our story, to trace the cir-
cumstance which led to this alarming shot.

We left the boy, Tim Truepenny, in company

- with the mine eine after the two

startled miners had ran away from them.

Tim gazed with much interest into the face of
his companion, so far as he could see it in the
darkness.

“They mean you a harm, sir, I fear,” faltered
the boy. ‘“ They was talkin’ about it when I
I’m kind of sorry I let
ees see me, or I mought have found out some-

ing. z

“ Theard you. Tim,” patting his head. ‘You're
@ brave and bold little fellow. But you must
not risk yourself that way on my account. I
fear they would have hurt you if I had not
been at band.”

“They had no business talkin’ so,” cried the
boy, indignantly. “‘You’ve been a friend to
me, Mr, Manly, and I won’t stand by and bear
a word said ag’in’ you.
for ’em, sir. They’re a bad set.”

The gentleman laughed as he continued to

‘I have one friend in the mines, at any
rate,” he remarked. ‘But what’s that you
have about your neck, my boy?’ é

“That? Ob, that’s only a couple of rabbits,
as I took out of my traps.”

. “ Aha! been poaching, eh? Well, well! I
bope you may enjoy your rabbits—I would
= something handsome to know what is go-

on at Red Mike’s to-night.”
last words were gay in an aside.
‘im, but his quick

repeated, quickly.

hese
They were not intended for
ears caught them.
“At Red Mike’s?” he
“Was it there they were going
The boy had seen something, too,
“ Hallo, midget! You've get your ears open,
I see, But you needn’t mind what I said. It’s
recious little matter to me what th y do. Get
ome with your rabbits, Tim. And beware
aged - meddle ss these Leave me
my own es,
‘The gentleman walked, %, leaving his boyish
io alone on the roadside, Tim fol-

But you must look out
.|drew it forward and mounted on it,

 

lowed him with his eyes until he had vanished
in the darkness. .

“Such a dear, kind gentleman!” murmured
the boy gratetuliy. ‘* Nobody coulan’t be bet-
ter tome. And these men down on him ’cause
they can’t all be bosses in the mine. I wonder
what’s going on at Red Mike’s? Somethin’ ag’in’
Mr. Manly, I fear,”

He moved slowly on, his mind full of strange
thoughts, It - as not long ere he came within
sight of Red Mike’s cottage, from which the
faint line of candle light still came. The sight
“3 it seemed to give the boy a sudden resolu-

on. z

“They are plottin’ there agi’n’ Mr. Manly,
I'm sure of it,” he exclaimed. “It’s a cryin’
shame, so it is, arter the way he’s treated
everybody, I don’t like to listen but I’s got a
notion to do it, S’pose they’ll kill me if the
cotch me, but I guess nobody’d miss me much.

The boy hesitated for a minute, and then
seemed to have made up his mind. He moved
cautiously across the dark fields toward the
cottage. He grew still more careful as he came
near it, eer seeking to discover if any one
was on the watch, a

He conld see no one on guard. In a few
minutes he was close to the cottage, approach-
ing it from the rear, and out of the light thrown
by the candle. Soon he was crouching under
its walls. But his hopes were destined to be
blasted. Thin as were the frame wails of the
cottage not a sound came through them to his
ears.

The disappointed spy crept slowly around
the building, ie to gain some point of van-
tage, from which he might hear what was go-
ing on within. He had in this way made
nearly the complete circuit of the place, when
his attention was attracted to a window tbat

Stood a crack open. A faint sound of voices
came to him from within,

The boy felt anxiously around him, His
hand fell on an overturned bucket. Quick] oe

is
raised him so that his head was just below the
window. He caught the sill with his two!
hands and drew himself up.

The shutter was open a mere crack, but the -
sash was raised, and some words spoken within
fell distinctly on his sharp ears, Tim gavea
ea of alarm on catching the purport of these
words, =

It was a perilous movement. The bucket fell
over, with a slight clank of its iron handle.
hold on the window loosened, and he fell to the
ground, }

It was just at the moment when Patsy, the
watchman, after completing one round of the
cottage, was slowly making his way around it
again.

e heard the sound, saw somethin: move in
the darkness, and his braggart courag: fled from
im at the sight. ;

( With a trembling hand he clutched the pistol,
and fired almost at random in the darkness, —
There followed a deep groan, and then the form —
disappeared.

The next moment the conspirators came pour-
ing out from the cottage, their faces white with
dread. a ‘

4

4

 

 
8 Lame Tim, the Mul

e Boy of the Mines.

 

“What is it? What the divil have ye done, |
ye idyot? Weren’t ye told not to shoot, dang
yer picter?”

_ Sorry the one of me knows,” cried the
eannlace guard, ‘‘ but I fotched him, anyhow.
Bring a light here, somebody; mebbe it’s Jack
Manly hisself.” .

Red Mike hastened to comply, snatching up |
the candle which burned within. He ran to |

. _ spot where Patsy stood with blanched |

a ace. |

“Where? Be jabers, there’s nothin’ here! |

Hang me if tbe fool ain’t been shootin’ at his |

own shadder! Blest if I didn’t think he had |
more backbone nor that.”

Ing a chute, down which the coal rapidly slides
into the cars which stand at its lower end. Bill
is nee the broken masses into the chute as
they yield to the strong blows of the iron bars.

After a while Pete pauses and leans upon the
handle of his instrument, as he wipes the sweat
from his begrimed face. ;

“That was a derned queer contraption last
night, Bill,” -he remarked, first looking cautious-
ly around him, ‘‘ Maybe you kin tell me what
sort 0’ bird Patsy brung down, but it’s not me
that kin see through it.”

Bill also made a careful survey of the locality
before answering. He then seated ‘himself on a

great lump of coal, and rested his hands on his_

Patsy made no reply, but pointed steadily | knees.

downward at the overturned bucket. Drops of |

Rok. blood on it met their startled eyes.

CHAPTER IV.
AMONG THE BLACK DIAMONDS,

Ir is the morning after the events just nur-
rated, but the sun has not risew and will not |
rise in the locality in which we now find our-
selves,

Only some glimmering lights here and there

 

dispel the thick darkness, as they reveal a | qoang hound, Tim.
{

“scene such asthe morning sun never yet shone
upon. / es
Mt seemed, indeed, like the interior of some
mighty underground dungeon hall, with its
gloomy, dark-roofed avenues stretching out un-
til lost in the dim distance, and walled with the
living rock.
At intervals, narrow passages appeared like
: the openings to the dungeon cells of this dread
pe vison, their walls of a glossy black that shone
Ese uridly in the lamp-light of the gloomy in-
3 closure. ¢
Here and there spectral-like forms moved
quickly along the avenues, appearing and dis-
i appearing, each with a gleam of light upon his
« forehead, while now and then the sound of voices

“Ther’s somethin’ mighty pecoolar ’bout it,”
he slowly rejoined. ‘* We hunted the place far
an’ wide, as you well know, and there weren’t a
screed o’ nothin’ to be seen. On’y fer them
blood-drops on the bucket I’d swear Patsy was
a-saltin’ us, But blood isn’t to be whistled
down,”

“7 hev an idee,” remarked Pete.

“You hev?”

“Tt’s bout that boy o’ mine, Bill. That lazy
i ou know what Blowhard
‘om said ’bout the little rat?”

; “ Yes. n

“Well,” and ‘Pete’s voice sunk low. “Hoe
turned up ’mong the missin’. Divil the step did

he come home last night, And betune you an’ ~ ee

me, Bill, ’m dub’us but ther’s trouble.”
Bill gave a shrill whistle. ef
“You don’t tell me that? You think it was
Tim that Patsy shot?”
“Faith it looks mighty like it.”
“But what come of him then? He couldn’t
| ha’ sunk into the ground. It would be blamed
awkward if the boy should turn up dead.”
“T dunno whether I’d sooner have him dead
nor alive,” answered Pete, gloomily.
he heard us from the winder and blowed the

rolled and reverberated from the high arched |! whole game to Jack Manly? Wouldn’t there be

roof of some wide underground chamber,

the very Old Nick to play in the mine?”

“ee S’pose *

Yet there was nothing supernatural about the; He surlily resumed his pick, and gave a fierce
scene, nor was_it an underground dungeon, '| blow to the face of the coal, that brought down
ya as it might have appeared to an excited a:shower of rattling fragments, There was an

ancy.
tion, made by the busy delvers after the black | iron point at the heart of his foe. - .
diamonds of the Pennsylvania hills. It was, in At that moment a mine lamp agp ata
short, the interior of the Edge Hill coal mine, | short distance from them, and the sound of
to which we now introduce our readers, | approaching steps was heard. A dim fi

The human specters who worked here insilence emerged from the darkness, It was the tall and
and gloom were preparing the sparkle of the

. firelight, and the cheering warmth, whose charm’
was destined to be enjoyed without a thought of the two men as they observed dim.
for the poor fellows who toiled so laboriously | But M:
underground to spread happiness and comfort ' good-humored expression. He walked up to the
aiar off. It is perhaps as weil for the pleasure , miners, He stopped'a moment, and looked at
of mankind that ‘‘one half of the world does | their work, which they surlily continued, as if

mf not know how the other half lives.” * | not observing him, ee

Toate But few such thoughts come into the minds of | “A good blast that, my hearties,” he re-

Peek, Pickax Pete and his partner Bill Bates, as they | marked, “You'll get a fair ten ton out of it,

ee vigorously sink their picks into the broad breast. Ha! what are these cartridges doing bere!” —
of coal before them. It has been shattered by a |
recent blast, and the broken masses of coal yield look came upon h
‘readily to their picks. : :

of the mine. A dark frown came upon the faces

 

 

face, as he pointed down-
| ward to his feet. It was evident that Jack

 

 

seven feet in hight. To their left a narrow yery stern one.

  
 

passage is cut downward though the rock, form-| “We ain't had no time to put them away,”

It was simply a — mountain excava- | energy in his movement as if he had struck the

well-set form of Jack Manly, the superintendent -

anly’s countenance wore its usual open, .

They stand in a org tet! space of some Manly’s good-bumored look could change toa ;

 

ep

 

His tone suddenly grew stern, and a severe

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

a Throughout
similar Taboxs “were

ne

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines, a3 9

 

answered Pete, in sullen apology. **T don’t see |
as they’re doin’ no harm there, anyway.”

“They are doing this much harm,” replied
Manly, in short, decided accents, ‘‘they are
breaking the rules of the mine. I should fancy
hie would know by this time that I won’t have

hose rules broken, Put those cartridges where

they belong instantly, and let me see no more
such carelessness.” = g

Ge was very sharp and positive. Pickax

2 ok looked up with a ‘harsh frown on his
Tow.

“ Maybe you're thinkin’, Mr. Jack Manly—”
he began \insolently.

But he ‘was cut short.

‘I’ no matter what I think,” retorted Man- |
ly. ‘*You have heard what I said. This mine
is not big enough to hold two bosses, or to have
two sets of rules. Are you going to put those |
cartridges away, or vacate, which?’ |

He was evidently angry. His keen eye fixed |
itself on the form of the burly miner with a |
stern glance, Pete looked for a moment asif |
he would have liked to dispute his authority, |
But there was something of the magnetic in
that fixed gaze. He stooped down and began |
slowly to pick up the scattered blasting cart- |
ridges. The superintendent moved onward
impatiently.

He walked on with his free stride, His lamp
glimmered for a minute fipon the shining faces
of the coal. Then its light disappeared in the
distance,

Of the many miners who wrought for black
diamonds in the Edge Hill mine, but a few were
in the conspiracy against Jack Manly, and
these were the most unmanageable characters
there, just those whose enmity was likely to be
aroused by any strict supervision. And good-
humored as the superintendent could.be wl en
things went well, he was a very martinet
where the interests of the mine owners were
concerned. There could be no neglect of order
in the mine under his care, It is not surprising

' that he had stirred the'fierce blood of some cf

his subordinates.

Yet few as were these confederates, and scat-
tered as they were through the mine, the news
of Tim Truepenny’s sereetar re rapidly
made its way among them. Long ere the day
was over every one of them had heard of it,
and they began to fear that their plot had al-
ready borne bitter fruit.

It came to Patsy McDoon at a point in the
breast where he was just then working alone,
He had fired off a blast in the coal vein, and had
just returned to trace the effects of his shot.

rge fra nts of shining anthracite lay scat-
tered by the force of the powder, while the vein
was split in various directions. | He had grasped
along bar to force it into the fractured coal,
when a voice came to his ears,

“There’s trouble broke looss, Patsy, I’m
afeared,” it said. ‘* And it’s all your little fun
last night. Pete’s mule boy, Lame Tim, hasn’t
turned up this morning, and it looks amazin’ as

Pete continued sullenly to gather up the | #f gou'd urt the lad.”
‘a

cartridges, There were seven or eight of them

looked hastily around. It was Blow

which had been carlessly flung upon the floor of | hard Tom who spoke. »

the peeree.

“He’s pretty ae Pete,” remarked Bill, |
**but I dunno as he’sfar wrong. Things has to |
be gs in some sort of order, that’s sure,” |

“What the blazes are you gettin’ onter your |

_ brainpan?” cried Pete angrily. “‘ Goin’ to take |

him up an’’pologize ferhim, are ye? Heng his |
dirty hide, it ain’t the fust time, nohow, as he’s |
dug inter me fur nothin’. Do you want to take |
him up, Bill Bates?”
“Did I say I did? asked Bill. ‘You needn’t |
pm down a feller’s throat, Pets, every time he ©
PREM to open his mouth.”

“Ye haven’t furgot last pebit asked Pete, |
after again cautiously looking around. ‘I
drawed the long straw, Bill. I guess you know
what that means, Pickax Pete ain’t the man |
to go back on his word.” !

“Bat wait till that mystery of the spy is set-
tled,” warned Bill. “Fur all we know, they |
mought have the soft snapon us at this min- |
ute. :

}

“That’s 50,” answered Pete, as he placed the
cartridges in the box from which they had been
scattered, ‘*I’d give somethin’ nice to know

_ what’s come to that boy. If Tim’s been a-spyin’

on $5 it "ll be a sorry spy fur him. Mind that
now

He resumed his pick and struck a savage blow
into the breast of coal, Bill rose to his feet and
recommenced his task of hurling the coal into —
the chute. From a distance came rumbling
sounds of like operations.
the whole extent of the mine

enacting. —

“The boy attacked me and Jake last night.
‘ou know. And jist as we was goin’ to teact
im manners ders pe Jack Manly, and wi
slid, Now, like enougb, Manly put him to sp:
on Red Mile’s; and so I’m ’feared’ you’ve mac

‘a ghost of him.”

Patsy was trembling as he listened to this de
duction, He began to fear that he had indeed
committed murder, '

“Sure there was only a wee drop o’ blood,” be re

rotested, ‘‘ And we could find nothin’ at all. at
all. If the boy waskilt, where is his corpse? Tel!
me that now.”
“Little I know of that,” answered Tom, “If
eet a bird on the wing, ’'d watched where
© fell.’
‘Hold your whist!” cried Patsy. ‘Don’t be

talkin’ here of shootin’ and the like. Why, -

ther’s more blood in a beet nor we found.”

Tom only smiled in disdain. He moved away
to his own place, arti Patsy alone, The lat-
ter was very white-faced as he raised the heavy
bar and struck it with trembling hands against

the coal vein. The braggart feared that hé had ©

indeed committed murder, and he looked around
him fearfully. Healready began to dread being
alone in that dark place. He was superstitious

enough to fear that the murdered boy’s ghost

might appear to him, ;
He could not bear these thoughts. Clutching

the bar in his strong hands, he directed its point _

against a part of the vein near its upper level.
He was abcut to drive it forward with all his

ears in tones of shrill w:

strength, when a boyish, familiar voice fell u:
| his os in arning. site

 

 

 

—
2

 

 
 

 

¥ 7 -“

10

N

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

“Don strike!” it cried. “The wall is
cracked above you! You will bring the coal
down on your head!” S :

The miner looked around. A yell of terror
broke from his lips as be saw Tim’s pale face
looking at him from tbe darkness, He drove
the bar nervously forward into the vein. There
was a loud crack, as if acord had snapped. A
crash followed. The whole avenue seemed cav-
ing in. A thunder-like roar ran through the
mine.—Patsy McDoon lay crushed under ten
tons of coal, which his unlucky stroke had
brought down.

 

CHAPTER V.
- DANGER IN THE ROOF.

Many of the men working in the E¢ge Hill
mine were destined toa serious frightthat morn-
ing. It was not in the fact that Patsy McDoon
had been killed by a fall of coal, for that wasno
uncommon circumstance. Every one there
knew that it might happen to himself at any
time, yet they acted as recklessly as though a
granite arch was over their heads, drove their

icks into a crumbling roof of coal, and trusted

chance to save them. 2 ;

It was not the accident, then, but the mode
h which they heard of it,that gave them a start,
vrought an ashy hue to their faces, and caused
tneir limhs to tremble with dread.

For the word had passed stealthily from ear to
ear of the conspirators that the boy Tim had
disappeared, and had likely been killed by
Patsy’s. unlucky shot; and some of the more
superstitious already’ were in dread that the
ghost of the murdered boy might baunt them
in their gooey underground galleries.

Schuylkill Sam was just ‘bending to drive his
ee into a huge lump of coal at his feet when
__ he beard a voice to his right. Quickly turning

_ he peered into the gloom so faintly lit by his
lamp, and with a start of terror saw peering at
_ him the thin, pale face of Tim Truepenny. / At

the same moment there came the sepulchral
GER oy :
“Run for your life! Patsy McDoon is under

the high pitched voice of Jake

 

the coal!’

The apparition disappeared as suddenly as it
‘had come, and left the strong man shaking as_
though in an ague, while great drops of sweat
stood on his grimy brow.

Patsy had done the murder. Had the spirit
of the murdered boy already brought retribution
on him} The miner grasped his pick and ran
hastily through the dark gallery, half from
fear to remain alone in that baunted spot,

A minute after Pickax Pete and his partner |
were startled by the same cause, The boy’s
pale face suddenly peered on them from the
gloom, and then vanished, with the cry:

“Run for your lives! Patsy McDoon is under -
the coal!” BOO Sar A

Thorough the mine passed the alarm. Red
Mike dropped the iron bar from his trembling
fingers as it came to bim,

_ Not one of the conspirators escaped the ap-
partition, and they burried in a trembling
group, along with other miners who bad been

warned, toward the breast on which Patsy had |

  

been working, eager to discover if there was
any truth in the alarm. Res Rep

  

i ‘

| him there, for a trifle of danger.”

/| to

   

They. were met by the burly form and horror-
stricken face of Blowhard Tom, who had
dropped his tools and run in terror into the
outer gallery on the fall of the coal,

‘What is the matter? Is Patsy gone down?”
was the general cry.

“The roof came down,” answered the trem-
bling bully. ‘It was the fetch of Lame Tim.
It come square out of the rock, and touched the
vein, and down come the coal on Pa sy.”

‘On, boys!” cried one of the leaders, -“‘ To
the rescue! He may not be dead. Lead on,
Tom, to the spot!” I

“Me!” cried Tom, with a shudder. “TI
wouldn’t go back for a miltion dollars. The
boy’s fetch is there, I tell you. It'll bring the
whole roof down on us,”

_ “Hold your blather, you cowardly spalpeen!”
roared Red Mike, in a fury. ‘If you sell the
pass on us I'll drop you a clip as yow’ll not soon
forget,” he whispered in the bully’s ear. ‘To
the rescue, boys! To the rescue!”

The miners had not waited for this appeal,
but were swarming past Patsy’s terrified part-
ner and into the narrow breast in which the
accident had happened. A glance showed that
the alarm had not beenafalseone. A great
heap of broken and shattered coal occupied the
floor of the narrow gallery, while a blank space
in the roof showed from where it had descend-
ed. Nc vestige of the unfortunate man was to
be seen. He was completely hidden under the
fallen coal,

“Quick, picks and bars! To the rescue!” |
cried a stalwart miner, as he drove his pick into
the shatterea mass. ‘The lad mayn’t be quite
dead, though I’m afeard there’s a sorry show
for him.” '

But they had.not worked a minute when there
was beard a shrili note of alarm. Itcame from
ce,

“Back!” he cried. ‘' The vein’s spit for ten

‘feet on both sides! Back for your lives! It’s

erumbling now! It'll
you know it!” - ‘ 5

The crowd of miners backed fesriully away
et this warning. Red Mike auj Bill Bates —
dropped their picks and followed. Jake was
right. The roof was perilous. Some bits of
coal had already fallen, like a danger signal.
ed = first stalwart miner continued to ply

is pick, Be

‘Back, Harry! back!” came a general cry.
‘The roof aii be down on you in a minute.
Patsy’s a dead man now, and we can’t efford to

be down ina heap afore

| have you smashed.”

“et it come,” answered the dauntless fel-
low. ‘It’s life or death, anyhow, boys, The
lad may be alive, and I’m not the man to leave

“Danger! It’sshaking now! And Patsy's as
dead ea ee nail!” a <=

There came a sudden rush of miners, and
Harry was seized and dragged forcibly back,

**-You’re the pride of the mine, Brown,
and we can’t afford to lose you for that blather-
Ing fool, Patsy. And he's gone under any-
way. ; A

The speaker patted the great fellow on the
shoulder, as if he had been addressing -himself

a

*

   

 

 

 

 

    
 
Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

The dread of the dangerous roof had commu-
nicated itself to the whole a They bung
dubiously back, their eyes

that ran through the overhanging coal. Even

Harry Brown, after a moment’s effort to_

escape from his captors, resigned himself. He
began to realize that his effort was foolbardy..

As they thus stood in silens expectancy a new
step hastily approached, and a voice cried out:

“What are all you doing there? They tell
me there’s a miner under Gre coal! Are you

- the men to leave him in the lurch? I thought
better of you than that! Hand mea pick!”

It was the imperious voice of Jack Manly,

_ and it was the face of the mine superintendent
that turned upon them with stern indignation,

*‘ We'd do anything in reason,” answered one
of the miners sullenly. ‘‘But we’ve got our
own lives to look after. The roof is shivered,
and will be down in a jiffy.”

“T didn’t think the Kdge Hill boys were cow-
ards,” retorted Jack, in a bitter tone, as he
snatched a pickax from a miner’shand. “TU
take my chances with the best of you.”

““Mebbe you think yer life’s wuth nothin’,”

-gullenly cried Pickax' Pete. ‘‘And fur that
matter, there’s more on us thinks that same.
But we've got our own lives to look after.”

“Ts that you, Pete Plumtree?” asked Jack,
with a sharp glanecel, ‘‘By the gods, I knew
you were a devil, but I did not think you were
acoward. The man’s got to be rescued, if I
have to do all the work myself.”

In a moment he was astride the fallen heap,
and was sending the broken coal to right and
left with nervous energy.

‘‘Coward!” cried Pete, stung by the epithet.
“‘Nobody never said that of me and told the
truth. If it were the gates of Purgatory you
sha'n’t beat me!”

He sprung forward and drove his pick into
the fallen mass. He was followed by Harr
Brown, Several of the others pushed forward,
-The dread of the dangerous roof was replaced
by asense of shame. The vigorous arms of the
volunteers rapidly made a breach in the crum-

bled mass. & ;

The rapid blows shook the walls of the gal-
lery. Slivers and fragments of coal fell from
the shattered roof. }

“He's a dead man!” cried Jack, after another
stroke, ‘I see his breast, lads, It is crushed
in as if a mountain had fallen upon it.”

“’Ware!” came a startling cry. ‘‘Back’to
the right! Here it comes!”

The workmen drew hastily back at this warn-
ing, and = in time, for, with a thundering
crash, six feet more of the roof fell, half filling
the pemeue, while a thick cloud of black dust
hid the light of the lamps.

It was the portion of roof to the left. The
miners had withdrawn to the right, as warned.
Had they gone in the opposite direction there
would have been more deaths to add to that of
Patsy McDoon. Jack Manly stood gazing ir-
resolutely and angrily at the wall, like a lion at
bay. He could not bear that any obstacle

should baffle him in his object, ee oe
Jt won’t do, boys,’ he grumbled, ‘The
roof must be shored up.Feten umbers, some
of you, You'll find joist near the lift. And
We want shovels, as well as picks aud bars,

ee

ed on the cracks |

11

.
Quick, my men! Save it before the rest is
down!”

A dozen men started off at this quick order.

' Jack paused a moment, and then hastily fol-
lowed them, as if with intent to direct their

_ operations, Others of the men followed in his

| footsteps. \

| Those who remained behfnd stood in silence

; looking on the perilous scene, and starting as

| oecasionally a fragment of coal detached itself
and fell with a slight thud to the floor,

Some low words passed between them, but
they spoke with ‘caution, as if fearing thata
loud tone‘might bring down the roof.

Meanwhile the other men were hurrying on
through the galieries of the mine, seeking the
timbers and utensils for which they had been
dispatched, beck

ack Manly hasted on also, He was alone,
for he had taken a different direction from the
others—or, at least, be fancied himself alone.
He was not aware that a stealthy step followed
him, that a savage face glared toward bim
through the darkness, He knew naught of the
drawing of those murder-dealing straws.

The men remaining at the dangerous breast
were soon cheered by the return of their com-
rades, carrying timbers with which to shore up
the cracking roof. ee : ‘

Tnis was soon done. ok and skillful
hands lent baste to the work, pper timbers
were laid across the top of the gallery, and sup-
eames upon uprights which res.ed upon the

oor. 3

Three or four of these supports sufficed to
make the roof reasonably secure, and to render
it safe to continue the work of excavation. This
was now rapidly proceeded with. , :

The broken coal was shoveled away, the
larger lumps moved with bars. More and
more of the form of the victim became re-
vealed, , ; .

“What can have become of Mr. Manly?”
asked Harry Brown. ‘It is high time he was -
back. You don’t often find him the last when
things are in a hurry.” S

“ He didn’t say where he was going,” replied
one of the others. ‘But I guess we don’t need
him, There’s no hope, lads,” he gloomily con-
tinued; ‘‘ poor Patsy’s as dead as a door-nail—
smashed flat as a pancake.”

A few minutes more sufficed to extract the
dead body, which had been dreadfully crushed
by the falling coal. Only the face had escaped,
and it yet wore a peculiarly horrified expres-
sion that struck some of the men with a strange
sensation, :

“Tom said that he saw the fetch of Lama
Tim,” whispered Jake Brace to one of the con-
federates. ‘1 believe it. Look at the dead
man’s face. One would think he saw the ghost
yet. :

It seemed so, indeed. The look of fright
which his face had worn at the instant of his
death was there still, The confederates shud-
dered as they looked at it, for it seemed omin-
ous to them. . :

‘Strange what keeps Mr. Manly,” remarked
Harry brown, with a shake of tue head,

He turned away and waiked back through the
mine, leaving the others with the corpse,
ils path, by chapee, was that which the su-

 

 

 
   

   

12 Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

eoaatent ‘had pursued. He hed gone per-
aps a hundred yards, when the faint gleam of
a miner’s lamp told him that there was some
person in advance, 3

“ Wonder if that’s Mr. Manly just coming
back?’ he znuttered.

Ten paces further and he started as his eyes
met a strange and startiing spectacle,

For, stretched at full length on the floor of the
gailery lay the form of Jack Manly, his face the
hue of death, while the blood was slowly trick-
ling from an ugly wound near bis temple.

And over him bent the diminutive form of
Lame Tim, who lifted a thin, se red face to
Harry as he approached, It seemed a dead man
watched by a ghost,

CHAPTER VI.
A GHOST IN THE BUSHES.

Two men were seated ona fallen:log by the
side of a thicket of bushes which grew not far
from the road. It was near evening, and the
shadows were rapidly deepening, but there was
light enough to reveal the faces of Pickax Pete
and Jake Bates.

There was a dubious look on both their faces,
as though they did not feel entirely comfortable
in their minds.

“It wasn’t judgmatical, Pete,” said Jake,
shaking his head dubiously. ‘‘It was too h_ sty;
too basty altogether. I thought as how you
were a wider awake chap than that,”

“What wasn’t judgmatical?”’ asked P: te,
fiercely, ‘‘ What raseally blather is you gittin
through your brainpan now, Jake Bates? Hang
your carcass, won't have none of your
mouthing about me. Mind that!”

‘Tm afeard they’ll nail it, that’s all. "Twasn’t
the time to tap him jist then. And some of the
boys may peach to save their own bacon.”

“ When you get your blow out will you pleasa
‘splain what’s loose? I ain’t no magician to
guess conundrums,”

‘You ain’t no fool, Pete; and there’s no use
lettin’ on you are. It’s Jack Manly I’m talkin’
about, and well enough you know it,”

“The blazes I do! S’pose you are talkin’
"bout Jack Manly. I dunno as it’s much to me,

anyhow.”
“ He’s gone under, Pete. The clip fetched

him. I heered ten minutes ago as how he’d

pegged out, and passed in his checks,”

Pete started, while a loook of pallor came
upon his hardened face.

“That’s a lie!” he exclaimed. “A bit of a
tap witha blackthorn knot couldn’t never ha’
bu’sted his thick skull.”

“You hit too hard, Pete. Drop it, now;
there’s no yse tryin’ to play innocent with me.
You'll be tellin’ me next that you didn’t pull the
long straw.”

“He can’t be dead!” repeated the hardened
man, his face showing an ashy hue. ‘A mere
touch, as wouldn’t ha’ given a baby the head-
ache. You're a-playin’ on me, Jake.”

“Not much,” and Juke shook bis head gloom-
fly. ‘It was Tom the Blowhard as told me, and
he was skeered. whiteas chalk. It wasn’t judg-
matical, Pete. The mine owners is bound to
make a big row about it.” :

“* B’poss they da Who's to blab?’

 

‘You was one of the boys as followed Jack
Manly, when he went back into the gallery.
Now that crowd’s goin’ to be hunted up close,
let me tell you.” ;

“There’s nothin’ ag’in’ ’em. It mougbt ha’
been some of the mule men. Or mebbe a lump
of coal from achute. There weren’t a soul seen
it done.”

“Yes there was. I saw it done!”

The voice that spoke these words came from
the thicket. .The shadows of the coming night
had gathered and thickened during the conver-
sation, and darkness was fast replacing twilight.
With exclamations of surprise and alarm, the
two men sprung up. and ‘looked toward the
dusky bushes behind them. There, framed in
the leaves, appeared the pale, spare face >f Tim
Truepenny. No part of the body was visible,
only the shadow-like face, with the eyes full of
stern indignation. .

“T saw you draw lots to kill Mr. Manly! I
saw the blow struck, and the band that done
it! Ifhe is dead, let the murderer beware!”

The face vanished as a shadow disappears.
With a loud cry of horror, Jake turned and ran
like a madman across the fields, wild with
terror.

But Pete was made of sterner stuff. He was
not the man to be scared by a legion of ghosts.
A fierce oath burst from his lips, and witha
mighty spring he leaped the fence, and darted
i the thicket, in pursuit of tbe yanishing

gure.

There was a thrashing of the bushes as he tore
through them like an infuriated animal. He
bad no faith in the ghost theory, and fully be-
lieved that Tim had been playing on the fears
of the men.

“Won’tI play him out if I catch him, the
treacherous young viper!” he hissed, as he con-
tinued his pursuit.

But it was in vain. Lame as the boy was,

, and rapid as had been his pursuer, no signs of

him could be found. Th@tbhicket was small
and Pete traversed it from side to side and
Sn end to end, without discovering a living
eing.

“Tt’s blazin’ queer!” was all he said, as he
gave up his quest. But there was a look of
strange perplexity in his eyes.

His search had not been thorough enough.
Hardly had he gone when, at the very point
where the face had appeared, there rose the
small figure of Tim. It was certainly no ghost
tbat limped out into the field, but a flesh-and-
blood figure of a boy. Instead of trying to es-
cape he had simply crouched to the earth, and
let his furious pursuer dash past.

The boyish figure crossed the lot, and climbed
the fence into the road. Along this he cau-
tiously advanced, slowly approaching the house
of his tormentor, as if inclined to return home,
~ It was now quite dusk. Tim circled past the
house, carefully avoiding it, and made his way
up the hill-side in the rear, toward the spring at
which he was accustomed to procure water.

He had not been here but a few minutes,
when footsteps were heard on the path, and the
crouching boy caught — of a figure which
heat once recognized. It was Mrs. Plumtree,
or Sukey, as her lord and master called her,

 

is
“Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines,

13

 

She leaned over the spring and filled her
bucket with water. Rising with her burden
she uttered a cry of alarm on seeing Tim stand-
ing before her. The bucket fell from her hand,
and — — poured out over the ground.

on

home.”

“Tim!” cried the woman, seizing him, and

drawing him toward her. ‘‘ You come a so
sudden I thought it was your fetch. hy,
_ they’re talking through the mine about your
being dead, and about your ghost bringing
down the roof on Patsy McDoon.”
_ . “They’re all fools,” answered the boy. “I
don’t know what’s got into them, Every time

I show my face somebody yells out, drops his |

_ tools, and runs. You mought think I was a
catamount, or a skeleton without a head.”
‘*What’s been goin’ on!” asked Sukey, cau-
tiously. ‘‘ There's queer talk afloat, Tim. They
say Mr. Manly’s been murdered in the mine.
And I've heered it whispered that Patsy Mc-
Goon shot you, and that’s the reason he thought
he saw your ghost.” ’
Tim laughed, with a shade of merriment in
his tone. ; =k
“The big fool!” he uttered. ‘‘Why, he
aimed straight at the moon.”

“But they said vou disappeared, and there

was blood. Jake Bates gave his wife a hint of
it, and she let it out to me.”
_ So there was; rabbit’s blood,” rejoined Tim.
“*T had two rabbits round my neck, which come
out of ‘my traps, and some of their blood must
have dropped down, I know it wasn’t mine.”
“Why didn’t you come home, then?”
“TJ daresn’t. I was afeared of Pete.”
“ What for?” ”
“They said I was a-spyin’ on them.
have peppered me if he’d cotched me.”
“Not where I was, Tim. If ke dusts

He'd

our
coat a bit, that won’t hurt. But he sha’n’t do
z- 2 harm. But what’s all this about Mr.

dead?”

y? Is he reall
: 5 answered Tim, with a

“Folks say so,
shudder. |

“Do they know who done it, Tim? _

The boy gazed cautiously around him before
answering.

“T know,” he replied, in a subdued tone,

“ You ” * 3

“ es.” .

“Who was it, then?”

Tim shook his head.

is I'll peach on the murderer. If he isn’t ’m
goin’ to keep still.” mn eae: ;
And the boy meant it, No entreaty could make
him divulge the dangerous secret. — 2
Sukey refilled her bucket.
- “Come, Tim,” she said.
you, Come home,”

kill me if he cotches me.
"No he won’t. What would
fer?” : : act
“You don’t know—” began the ee
suddenly paused. He had been on the
; mi ;

he harm you

But he
point of

_ Teyealing too much.
a Mra. Piumtree was near dropping her bucket

e .

again.

se

git skeered. It’s only me,” the boy |
“It’s only Tim, who’s afeard to go :

“T want to be sure first that he’s dead. If he

nid. “Pete sha’n’t hurt
gy Sm afeared,” he answered, gloomily. ‘ Hell

| seen” she erfed. “Was it him? Was it

Pete as did it? You daren’t say it, Tim.”
““T didn’t mean that,” answered the boy, con-
fusedly. ‘‘Only I’m deadly afeared of him. I
| wouldn’t go home for nothin’.”

“But where will you sleep? It is too cold to
stay in the fields,” :

“T slept in the mine last night.”

**Oh, my poor boy, that will never do!” The
woman’s tone was full of concern. ‘‘ You must
come with me. You can get into your room
the back way, and Pete will never know it.
Have you had anything to eat?”

‘‘No. Only a bit of dry bread I found.”

‘Poor little fellow! Couns, Tim. You shall
have your supper, anyhow.”

Tim limped on after the kind-hearted woman.
. He was very hungry, and did not mind a little
| danger if he got a supper by it. ,
| They were not long in reaching the house. It

was now fully dark. Against the rear end of
the two-storied house was a low shed, from
whose roof the upper windows could be easily
ae Sukey helped the boy to mount to the ~
| roof. :
| “Shin up now, and climb in your winder,”
| she suggested. ‘* When you git there keep quict
as a mouse, and Pete will never s’pect. I'll steal
up arter while with a bit of eatables.” ret

She made her way to the front, leaving Tim
to obey her directions. She found the house as
| She had left it. Her worthy husband had not

returned, and with a smile of satisfaction she
went to work to hunt upsome cold victuals, and
fo warm up a cup of tea fur the hungry boy.
| Filling a plate with these provisions, and carry-
ing the tea-cup and saucer in_ her other hand,
Sukey walked to the stairs, with the intention ~
' to naount to Tim’s small apartment,
She was unpleasantly interrupted.
| ‘The front door was flung open, a heavy step
came upon the floor, and a voice with the grow!
of a bear rung in her surprised ears,
| What the blazes is up now, Sukey? Who
' are you takin’ all that grub to?” as
It was Pete’s voice. There was a fierce suspi-
Cion in his tones. She turned around in dis-
may. There was no disguising herintentions.
, You've got that Tim up-stairs! It’s him
you’re coddlin’ up!”

‘No it ain’t, neither.”

“Tt’s a lie, woman, He’s been a-playin’ it on
me, and by all that’s good I’m bound to get even
with him,” Pek

She sought to hinder him in his fierce flight to
the stairs. But be caught her shoulder and.
wheeled her out of the way, while the cup and
plate fell crashing to the floor, and their con-
tents were widely scattered. The next moment
, he was dashing up the sbort flight of stairs.

Tim had heard the noise below, and guessed
what had happened. He was trying to get out
of the window to the shed roof, when Pete’s
hand clutched him like a vise, and dragged him
witbin. ;

**You dirty little rat!” hissed the furious
man. ‘‘ You'll blow on me, will youf They
say that dead men tell no tales. Dead boys
‘don’t, neither! You know too much!” ; a

‘The trembling hoy was jerked furfously back —
from the window. | : eee rod

#

—_—_— 4

 
- must hur:

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. ~-

 

CHAPTER VII.
MR. PRICE MAKES UP HIS MIND.

A GENTLEMAN who wore a long duster and
carried a traveler’s sachel in his hand, was
walking at a rapid pace up the valley which led

from the railroad station in the neck of the
village. He had evidently just left the train,
whose smoke yet floated heavily in the air to
the north as it drove on its ringing way. | ~

The traveler was a middle-aged man, with a
grizzled beard, and a hair escaping from
under his silk hat. There was a stern expres-
sion upon his handsome face. His lips were set
and his eyes prt? resolute.

* Bless us all, Mr. Price, is it you?” cried a
miner, taking off his hat as he recognized the

entleman. ‘I’m mighty glad to see you, for

‘it’s a long day since you’ve beon here.”

_ Thank you, Harry,” replied the gentleman,
as he grasped the miner’s hard hand. ‘‘The
same old Harry Brown as ever, I see. But how
comes it you are out of the mine to-day?”

‘Had a message for Mr. Sterling, who is up
yonder, you know,” he pointed his thumb to-
ward a large house on the hillside. ‘‘ Of course
you’ve heard of the trouble. Poor Jack Manly
got it here from somerascal.” He significantly
touched his temple. j ;

“1 know,” was the burried mele “ That’s
what brought me. Mr. Sterling telegraphed.
How is it? Is Manly dead?” E
- **No; thank the stars. They would have
him dead in the mine; but he’s good for many
a long day to come.”

“Tam glad to hear that.”

- “Tf he gets a square show, I mean, I won’t
answer for him if he’s to be tapped in the day,
by devils like the last.” __ .

“Trust me to see to that,” answered Mr.
Price, sternly. ‘‘I will curb these fellows. I
am not going to have a slaughter-house mad

of the Edge Hill mine. Good-day, Harry;

on.

** Good-day, sir.”

The stalwart miner turned away with a
pleased look upon his face, while the mine-
_ owner, with a harder expression than before,

strode on up the valley.

- Inafew minutes he bad reached the hand-
some brick house on the hillside, to whick
eae Brown had directed him. i

__ Asharp order to the servant at once gave
him admission to the sick room to which Jack
Manly had been Sue after the assault,

He lay on a bed by the window, his handsome
head supported on a high pillow, while his usy-
ally florid face was pale, and was marked by a
bluish contusion near the temple. Near the bed

sat a small, benevolent-faced gentleman, his
eyes fixed in sympathy.on the invalid.

rascals.

 

_He sprung hastily up on the entrance of the

visitor.
‘“‘Ha! Mr. Price! Well, you do make good
time. How are you, anyway?” |
ae pean ee How’s the sick
man jot so € eh? W fi
Mien te Sal ee a
, w do you do answered Jack,
a Kittle feebly, bat with's pleased smile on iid
face, as be held out his “Te is verv kind |

in you to take all the trouble to come up from
the city on my account.” 3

“ Don’t know if I would,” replied the visitor,
as he threw off his duster, “if 1 had known you

“were so brisk. I expected, from Tom Sterling’s

telegram,.to have a quarrel, and maybe a hang-
‘ing, on hand.”

“It was a narrow escape,” rejoined Mr. Ster- _
ling. ‘‘Qnly that Jack Manly is.as_ hardy as
an oak knot he wouldn’t have breathed again.”

Mr. Price fixed his ae rather coldly upon
the invalid. He lacked the sympathy of his
partner, but had far more sternness and resolu-
tion.

“Poh! Jack Manly isn’t so — killed. Have
you any inkling of the fellow that did it? Or
what was the cause?”

“There is a gang in the mine who are down
on me,” returned Jack. ‘I don’t know why.
Nobody could treat them better.”

“Except when they break the rules, and then
they see blue thunder,” supplied Mr, Sterling,
with a smile. :

‘‘Of course. That is what I am there for,”
answered Jack, simply.

* You’re a man, right through, Jack Manly,”
returnéd Mr. Price. ‘‘Carry out the rules if
you bring down the roof. That’s my logic.
And, by George! I'll give you some harder ones
to work with. We'll curb these hounds, or
know thé reason why. There’s a gang, you
ats Do you know them? Who was it s

ou

“That I don’t know. There’s a dozen or
twenty in the gang. I wouldn’t want to name
an innocent man.”

“Tnnocent, the deuce! A
If they were all hung up they’
dues.

‘You are too hard, Price.”

‘Don’t tell me, Tom Sterling! I know these
fellows better than you. They’d pull wool over
your eyes, You are too soft-hearted to deal
with such fellows. They ought to have me up
here a while.” 2

queer innocence,
d get their just

~' “ Perhaps, in the end, you would find my way

the best,” protested Mr. Sterling.

“Yes, with a vengeance! Here is a sample
of it. Jack Manly knocked in the head.”

“For carrying out your rules, not. mine!” re-
torted Mr. Sterling, somewhat hotly.

“There’s nothing wrong about the rules,”
broke-in Jack, from the bed. ‘‘It is only the
vagabonds that object to them. And we are
not running the mine in their interest. There’s
one or two of them that might be softened down
a bit maybe.” ;

““Softened down! Til tighten them up.
We’ll see who are the bosses here; we or those
Don’t be looking so glum, Tcm Ster-
ling. They’ve got to be taught their paces. 1
my faith, if you had your way they’d ride
rough-shod over you. They won’t find me so
soft-hearted, A tight rein, that’s my motto.
And the harder they kick, the tighter the rein.”

“That might do to drive mules. It won't ©
work to drive men,” answered Mr. Sterling, ©
shaking his head doubtfully. ‘ :

“‘See here, Tom,” answered his ee
ner, seating himself and looking more tive
thanever. ‘ You’ve managed the mine for the

 
Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

last three years. Suppose you leave it in my
hands for a month? That is all the time I ask,
If my management don’t make a radical im-
provement by that time I will hand it back to
you. How’s that, Jack, eh? That is not asking
too much, is it?”

“‘T think not,” replied Jack.

Mr. Sterling shook bis head.

“It is very easy to deal mathematically with
bank accounts, but you will find that you can’t
treat men like you would figures. But you can
have the mine for a month... I am willing to let
you a your system.” —

right, Tom. ‘You shall see if mathema-
tics won’t work. Your system has ended in a
knock-down for Jack Manly. Just see if mine
don’t go like clockwork.” .

“Tt wasn’t my system,” protested Mr. Ster-
ling. “You had a hand in those rules.”

Tt is in my hands for a month, at any rate.
I have been doing some hard thinking on the
train. They have got to toe the mark, every
soul of them. See here, I’ve got a new set of
rules jotted down, The man that can’t live up
to them can walk. That’s my motto.”

Looking sterner and more determined than
ever, Mr. Price drew a scrap of paper from his
pocket, on which he had written some lines in
pencil. He knitted his brows over the broken
writing. i

“It’s ugly work to write on the train,” he
mame rk a “Hardly know what it all means
myself.

* few minutes sufficed for him to translate
his hieroglyphics. He read off what he had
‘written to his two listeners, whose looks showed.
— they were far from satisfied with its pur-

iv ” ee
‘*@ome, come,” exclaimed the mild partner.
“That rule will never do. The men won't
stand being made slaves of.” '

“] mean every word of it,” answered Mr.
Price sternly. “Are you goiug to give me my
month or not?” >

_“ There will be a rebellion in the mine.”

“Don’t you fear that. You are entirely too

soft-hearted to deal with these men. What do
ou say, Jack Manly? Have you the back-
bone to carry out these rules?”

“T don’t approve of them,” answered Jack,
shaking his head, ‘‘ Bat I am not responsible
for them. It is my business to obey orders if I
break owners. Wait till I get on my feet again,
which I hope will be by to-morrow.’

** All right, Jack. am responsible for the
rules. They shall be posted - in the mine to-
morrow. Just you kick out the man that kicks
against them, and trust to me to back <= up.
As to the fellow that laid you here, he shall not
‘escape if there is any finding him. You aro
with me in that, Tom, eh?” : \

“f ily,” answered Mr. Sterling. “The
man meant murder.”

But we must return for a brief space to Tim
Truepenny, whom we left in a very perilous
predicament. xe

Pickax Pete, who had just clutched him and
drawn him back from the window, was ndt the

one to stop long in murdering him, if his own
ot laa te ae we ik ie fully toe’

lieved that he had killed Jack Manly. This
boy was the only witness to the crime, and had
threatened to betray him. Murderous thoughts
filled the villain’s heart, as he grasped the help-
less boy in his firm grip.

Tim trembled with dread, as he felt himself
dragged back from the window, and heard his
captor growling above him, like a lion which
has just caught a fawn. The light of the candle
which Pete beld displayed his face, to which a
harsh rage gave a fiend-like expression.

‘“You poisonous young viper!” he hissed.
“You as F picked out of the gutter, and have
fed like a young nabob, and now you're goin’ —
to turn on me, are you? Youas I’ve brung u
like a prince, you dirty little rat! He shoo
the boy fiercely. ‘‘ You’ll play ghost, will you?
And you’ll threaten to blow on me?” |

“T never played ghost,” stammered Tim.
“Tt weren’t no fault of mine that they got
skeered.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t, you scaly little
vagrant!” and he made Tim’s teeth rattle in his
head. ‘‘ Anyhow, you threatened to blow on
me ’bout Jack Manly.”

“ Just leave me go.
manded Tim.

“T leave you go! When I’m done with you
you can go. You say ag’in what you said to-
might, that you’d blow on me if Jack Manly

ied? : ;

He looked savagely into the boy’s face, while
his hard fist was tightly clinched.

Tim looked up fearfully, his thin lips growing
bloodless. :

“ Will you blow, you mite? Will-you blow?”

Tim céuld not lie. He did notremember ever
having lied; And in all his fear there was a
hot spirit of indignation in his blood. It was
the murderer of his kind friend who thus threat-
ened him, ~~
“Yes,” he forced himself to say, “If Mr.
Manly’s killed I'll let it out, if I die forit, And
I don’t care if you kill me for sayin’ so.”

‘“You will? Curse me, then, if I don’ cure
you of blowin’ for the rest of your nat’ral life!”

The sledge-hammer fist was drawn back, the
savage face glared tigerishly. Tim crouched
before that flendish glare, yet his eye did not
turn away from that of the murderous wretch,
nor did a ery escape his lips.

But the murderous blow was not given, Little
Tim was saved; for at that instant the villain
was seized from behind and wrenched half
around, : :

“You sha’n’t hurt the bo: \» came the voice of
his wife, ‘I tell you you sha’n’t hurt the boy!
sired F. of him, Peter Plumtree, or I'll know
why f : ;

And Sukey tore Tim.from the grasp of her
astonished husband. a : .

“Curse you! how dare you meddle?’ he
yelled. ‘You want it yourself, then :

His heavy fist was again drawn back,

But his wife did not fear him, She faced him
boldly, her eyes fixed on his, ;

““You sha'n’t burt the boy, I say! And you
| daren’t strike me, you coward! Here | am!
| Do it if you dare!”

Pete stood irresolute before
somewhat by her unflinching

I ain’t done nothin’,” de-

 

his wife, cowed

}

 
    
 

 

 

 

   
 
 
 
 
 

}

   
  
   
    

  

‘are rending the black diamonds of the coal vein |

serves the men coming out-of their headings,
with knit brows and angry faces, and clustering

_imprecation, break from their set lips.

grumbled another.

ie ees But ropes wouldn’t hold me now.

_ § white paper which Tim now saw

16

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

At that moment there came a voice from be-
low stairs. The tones were those of Jake Bates.

‘Where are you all?” he asked. ‘‘ Are you
up there, Pete? Come round to tell you it’s all
right. I jist heered. Jack Manly ain’t dead,
nor ain’t goin’ to die.”

CHAPTER VIII.
MR. PRICE’S NEW RULES.

Two days have elasped since the scenes 0
our last-chapter. Jack Manly is about again.
He has thrown off the stupefying effects of the
blow which for the time prostrated him, and
has regained all his old spirit and energy.
for Tim SEES. it bardly need be said that
be is none the worse for the rage of Pickax
Pete. The determined interference of Sukey,
and the news brought by Jake Bates, checked
the murderous intentions of the villain. Brutal
as be was he stood in awe of his resolute wife.
She bad told him the truth. He dared not
strike her.

Within the mine everything is moving in its
old fashion. The sturdy hands of the miners !

 

from their deep grave beneath the mountain.
Mules which never see the light of day are
dragging the well-filled cars along the main
gallery, to be hauled up the sloping inclined
plane by the firm grasp of the engine that
clanks steadily away at the mouth of the
mine. f ;

Tim Truepenny limps beside one of these
mule teams. The men have become quite satis-
fied that he is no flitting shade, but a true flesh
and blood boy, though some of them yes shud-
fler as they see him with his pale face and his |
limping step stirring up the slow pace of his
mules, It is not easy to get over an old fright,
and particularly in the dark shadows which
ever rest in the cavernous depths of the mine,

Yet there is some stir in the Edge Hill mine
this morning. Yesterday Mr. Price made an
inspection of the workings, and his cold, stern
face was by no means welcome to the men.
They had uncomfortable recollections of him in
the —_ To-day the cheery aspect of Jack
Manly is again visible.~ But there is something
else, something which is peers a feeling
such as was never known there before.

Tim, as he keeps pace with bis mules, ob-

together at certain points in the main gallery,
while deep mutterings, and an occasional fierce

“Tf he buys us for slaves he’ll make a bad
bargain of it, that’s all I’ve got tosay, ‘‘ growled

_“ Maybe he thinks a miner ain’t got no soul,”
passed op out of hearing of that group,

ig 2
~ but he soon reached a second, composed of more |

unruly spirits. ae
“We's got to keep to our places, is we?” mut-
tered Schylkill Sam. ‘ Well, I wonder if we
don’t? I wonder if any fellar wants,to go
ain’t goin’ to be ordered like a dog.”

“ Jist look at =

As | see that there was likel

 

cried another, pointing to |

posted up on |

the side of the gallery, ‘Trar’s to be no sinok-
in’, To think of that! Nosmokin’. We've got
to dust down on our pipes and baccy.”

“The dirty old spalpeen !? roared Red Mike,
with a deep oath. ‘‘ Maybe it’s angels he takes
us fur. To think of his imperdence. He comes
rattlin’ up yere from Filadelfy and lays down
the law to his betters. "Feared o’ firin’ the
damp, is he? And every fool knows there never
was an ounce of a! in the whole mine, Jack
Manly’s bad enough, but old Price is worse.”

Tim hurried on after his mule team, which
had got some distance ahead. The boy could ~
to be trouble in the
mine. So far as he could make out, Mr. Price
had made out new rules and had posted them up
along the mine galleries, There was going to be
an explosion. What he bad heard was but the ©
muttering thunder before the storm. The men
went slowly back to their work, but with lower-
ing brows and growling utterances. The ner-
vous mode in which they handled pick and bar
told of suppressed fury. The new rules wera
working. Mr, Price’s handling of the mine was
likely to make a sensation.

A shadow rested on Jack Manly’s brow as he
went about his mine duties, He had been given
a task which he did not like. But his word had
been passed. He had pledged himself to carry
out the new rules, and was bound to do it at
any risk. ;

“That won’t do,” he said to Harry Brown.
‘‘-You’ve read the new rules, I suppose. There’s
no smoking: allowed.”

“And what for?’ asked the miner, with a
frown.

‘‘ For fear of firing the ants

“Now don’t you know, Mr. Manly, that
there’s no damp at all in this part of the mine?
An open blaze wouldn’t touch it off.”

“What I know or don’t know has nothing to
do with it,” answered Jack, decidedly. ‘‘ That’s
the rule, I didn’t make it, but no one shall”
break it; not even you, Harry.”

“The man that made that rule_hasn’t the
sense of a cackling hen,” answered Harry, an-
grily, as he shivered his pipe to fr ents
against the rock. ‘*Much he knows of the na-

| ture of miners, if he thinks he can make slaves

. them. There’s trouble breeding, Mr. Man-
YT iow it, Harry; Iknow it. But trouble
or not, it’s make or break with me. I’ve got
my orders.” ; : ,

An hour afterward he met Pickax Pete, who
was roaming in a desultory manner about the
eae gallery, There was a dark scowl upon his

ce, ‘

“Come, come, Pete,” asked Jack pleasantly.
“What's wrong?” ? =

‘“There’s enough wrong,” growled Pete.
a ae aod for a ee i, se

me our work, my man.
“What fer?” = sf

* Because that’s the rule of the mine,” an- i

swered Jacksternly. ‘Any man absent from
his working breast during working hours is to
be disch ee : ;
pict ose he runs out o’ cartridges or breaks a —

ick... ‘ j pes
He will bave to do without, that’s all.” —

 

 

 
 
   
    
    
   
    
 
   
  
  
   
   
 
    
  
    
   
 
 
  
   
   
   
  
   
 
  

 

 

 

 
   
 

 

  
 

    

_ monly known.

_ drowned out by the accumulating water.

 

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines, i?

 

{
“By the blessed pipers, then, Pl not do| ‘Can't git none,” cried Tim, briefly. ‘They

without. The confounded ninny that made won’t come.”

such a rule ought tobe tossed inthe sump, or| ‘ Won’t come?”

~ tramped to atoms by amule team. That’s my | ‘No, It’s ag’in’ the rules, they say. They

pinion.” ; | ain’t goin’ to break the rules.” io

“Get back to your work, Pete,” answered The boy laughed, with a comical notion of the
Jack with an effort to speak pleasantly. | predicament,

“Jist you see if there ain’t a strike,” was, Jack whistled. 4
Pete’s SEE response as he moved slowly | _ “What's to be done, Mr, Price?’ he asked
away. ‘‘And I’m the chap as’llengineeritif that gentleman. ‘We can’t rig the derrick
there’s nobody else with the heart.” | without help.” :

Jack made no reply. He knew that the men | A harsh frown came upon the mill-owner’s
had some reason to be incensed, and that it was face. ‘ : :
not wise to draw the new reins too tightly at| ‘This is ridiculous,” he \averred. ‘I never
first. Just now coaxing was better than | intended tho rules to apply to eases like this.
driving. , | The idiots might have known that, Just wait.
~ The day passed on more quietly than the su- | I will bring some of them.”
perintendent had expected. he men kept} He walked angrily away, carrying a miner’s
closely to their work, and obeyed every one of | lamp to guide his steps. ; ;
Mr. Price’s stringent conditions with a docility Tim held his hand to his mouth to keep back a
that was threatening. It was the lull before laugh.
the storm. So Jack Manly ee ‘“Isn’t this prime fun?” he queried. ‘‘Do you

But not so Mr. Price. He madeanother in- | think he’ll fetch ’em, Mr, Manly?”
spection of the mine that afternoon, and was A queer smile came upon Jack’s handsome
highly pleased with the quiet and orderly be- | face.
havior of the men. He rubbed his hands with; ‘The shoe is on the other foot now,” he re-
satisfaction when he met the superintendent. marked. e e

“ What did I tell you?” he asked. ‘‘Why, I} They waited quietly for fifteen minutes. At »
don’t believe the mine was ever in such order | theend of that period Mr. Price was seenreturn-
before. That comes of having a firm hand at ing alone, and with a deeply flushed face.
the helm. What’s all your predictions worth ‘They are a rascally set of idiots!” he blurted
now, Friend Manly?” - : out on coming within hearing. ‘‘The rogues

“Wait,” answered Jack ee “Tt takes | won’t come, not asoul of them, They areafraid
time even for eimpawcer to go off.” of ne rules, forsooth! I told them the

“Very well. e shall see how things are at rules didn’t apply to such cases, but it did no
the end of my month, I fancy that Edge Hill good. They are too confoundedly docile, What’s
will be the model mine of the whole Schuylkill | to be done, Mr. Manly?” bse y Z
basin,” : 7 , The stern mill owner was the picture of dis-

Jack smiled meaningly, but made no answer. | gust. : “

At that moment the boy Tim came excitedly * Mavbe you'd best cancel that rule.”
up to where they were standing, his face full of a ‘be hanged if I will, then!” was the angry
concern, reply. ae

“Excuse me, Mr. Manly,” he cried, ‘ but ‘Let me try. Perhaps Ican coax some of |
there's trouble above, There was a loose board them. I know the reasonable ones.”
and one of the mules is tumbled in the sump. | Jack was gone for a considerable time. But
It’s up to its neck in the water, and well have | when he returned he was accompanied by half
to get some help to lift it out.” | a dozen men, Harry Brown at the head of them.

ack hurried forward at this summons, tothe His powers of persuasion had proved more effec-
foot of the slope. It was true as Tim had said. , tive than those of Mr. Price. ~

 

. There wasa mule in thesump, — | The men ‘he brought were all efficient work-

It may be well, however, to tell our readers men, and it was not long ere the derrick was

what a sump is, asthe term may not be com- erected. . Harry Brown descended the pit and

: : placed lifting bands around the body of the

It is simply a deep excavation in the floor of patient animal, who stood perfectly quiet in his
the mine, at the foot of the slope up which the uncomfortable bath. iy >

loaded coal cars are drawn to the open air. Into _ Soon they had attached the engine chains to

. this excavation the water of the mine flows, and the lif e, and given the signal to the en-

from it this water is continually pumped by the gineer. The power of steam proved far more
the aid of the ceasiess engine. Only for con- efficient than that of man. The animal was
stant pumping every mine would soon be brought up so rapidly that he was nearly at the
| top of the derrick ere the signal to stop had
“That’s an awkward job,” cried Jack, look- reached the engineer. He was then quietly
ing down twenty feet to where the poor brute lowered to the oe and released, apparently
stood to its neck in the dark water. “‘Callsome very glad to feel dry earth beneath his feet once
of the men here, Tim. Weshball have torigup more. :
the derrick and lift the creature out.” - + But Mr, Price had enough of it. No sooner
Tim was off like a shot, while Jack began to was the beast landed than he left the mine with
a brisk1. ut for the lifting appliances. a thoroughly disgusted look upon his face.
was

expression of counte- hisnewrules, For at eighto’clock that evening
e | @ delegation of the workmen called om him,

     

 

abo
he had
back, with an

 

Tectiek ee his messenger But he was not yet done with the working ot : 3
 

 

i8 Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

Brown at their head, to respectfully re-
quest that the rules should be withdrawn,
: “It’s just impossible to live up to them,” de-

_ clared their spokesman.

“ And suppose they are not rescinded. What

- will you do?’ Mr. Price angrily asked.

“Strike!” came a deep voice from the rear of
the delegation.

“Strike, will you? Very well. Those are the
fixed rules of the Edge Hill Mine, -Just bear
that in mind.” :

 

CHAPTER IX: ‘
THE MEN SHOW THEIR HANDS.

Iv meant something when a man like Harry

Brown headed the protesting party. The next
morning, when Jack Manly entered the mine as
usual he was surprised by a dead silence. Not
a glimmer of a miner’s lamp was to be seen; not
a stroke of pick or bar to be heard. Quickly
entering some of the working breasts he found
them silent and empty. There was not a man
in the mine. :

Jack ran his oa, with an odd sensation
through his hair, he uew rules were working
with a vengeance, ;

Descendirg to the main gallery again the
faint glimmer of a lamp caught his eye. He
hastened toward it, His quick vision soon
eee the form of the boy Tim, who was com-
ing hastily toward him.

5 ee you know it afore?” he cailed to
ack.

“Know what?”

“ “That the boys is all turned out? They’ve
struck, Mr. Manly. Ail except me and the
mules. There ain’t a man and a boy in the
crowd as’ll work a stroke while them new rules

is up.” 2
& ‘ihe deuce!” whistled Jack. ‘I didn’t look
for much less though. And why aren’t you
with them, Tim? Some of them will do youa
harm if you bang about the mine.” ;

“T don’t care,” answered Tim doggedly.
‘None of them care for me, anyhow. You're

, the only friend I’ve got in the mine, Mr. Manly.

While you stick to the mine, I'm goin’ to stick
to you, if everything bu’sts.”

“ Good, ny boy!” cried Jack energetically,
as he clasped the little fellow’s band. ‘ Han
me, if you ain’t true oie, right through! Bu
Took out, my lad. Keep quiet. You can’t do
much good, and these fellows wof’t stop to do
youa mischief.”

_ “Who knows what good I can do?” answered
Tim bravely. ‘“There’s an old story of the

mouse that gnawed the net, and let the lion

loose. There ain’t much of me, but there wasn’t
much of the mouse either.” :
‘Pluck to the backbone!” he patted the

boy’s head. “ There’s no telling what’s ee

Tim, I’m afraid this is the beginning o:

trouble, Let’s get out of the mine. We can

do no good here.

Tn a few minutes they bad made their way
+ pes slope. The pump was still working, but
the chain that drew up the loaded coal cars was
moveless, Z ; ‘

“Why didn’t you tell me that none of the

_ men had gone down?” asked Jack of the engi-

 

 

"*T didn’t see you,” was the reply.

“Very well. You keep to it, anyhow. You
can smoke, dance or stand on your head if you
want. Kick the new rules into the breaker if
they are in your way. But keep that pump
going. Don’t let the water climb on you, for
your life,”

“Trust me for that,” was the engineer’s brief
answer.

He wiped the black dust from bis brow and
proceeded to oil up his begrimed but smooth-
running engine. 3

At this same moment a conversation of a
different character was taking place in another
part of the valley. The two owners of the mine
were in a room of Mr. Sterling’s house, which
stood not far away from tle mine opening.

Mr. Price rubbed his forehead with an air of
great satisfaction as he turned to his partner.

“What did I tell you?” he remarked, tri-
umphantly. ‘You and Jack Manly fancied
that nobody but you understood the nature of
miners, Why didn’t you go down the slope
yesterday afternoon?”

“T had no occasion to,” answered Mr. Ster-

‘ling, quietly.

“*T fancy you were afraid of finding out who
was in the right,” answered his partner. “‘ Why,
man, you never saw such order. The rules are
working likeach-rm. Every man at bis pos
not a pipe or a black look to be seen, everything
in apple-pie fashion. The fellows saw at once
that they had a master. That’s what’s been
wanting here these three years, Tom. They’ve
had too much liberty.”

Mr. Sterling laughed incredulously.

“That’s one day,” he remarked. ‘ One day

is not a month... Wait. Time will prove who

is.right.” 2

‘*T bet they are like angels to-day,” cried Mr.
Price, impatiently. “Of course I expected
some kick-up like that last night. But you saw
how I took the starch out of them. They won’t

that soon again.”

‘Don’t be sure. I am not easy on that score,
When men like ari Brown protest—”

“Harry Brown! I wish you'd quit quoting
Harry Brown! See here, Tom, let’s go down

the mine, I wager high we find all as quiet —

there as in a church.”

““T will answer for that,”, remarked Jack
Manly, who entered at that moment, “It
couldn’t well be quieter.” '

“There! What did I tell you?” and Mr. Price

turned triumphantly to bis partner. ‘“ They

feel anew hand at the helm.” 7

But Mr, Sterling had detected some othe
meaning in Jack’s tone. He turned to him in-
quiringly. f

‘‘What do you mean, Jack?’ he asked.
“They don’t-have the sound of picks and blasts
in church.” :

“No more have they in the mine. There’s
m* soul there. The whole force is out on @
strike!

It would have taken a good artist to depict
these

the expression on Mr. Price’s face at
words. :

He flushed deeply; ;
through his hair; stamped impatiently on the
Soor; then hastily snatched up Lishat,

ran his fingers nervously

merrtosendorays

 

i eid i ee

i
fr
ix
oe
te

 
 

ren me ean Oe

v ponnet tated neratinanenderess yt Apnea repro

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. 19

“It can’t be! I don’t believe a word of it!”
was all he could say, as he rushed furiously from
the room. ae
} The two remaining men exchanged significant

‘lances,

‘“ Tt’s true—every word of it!” remarked Jack.
‘The new hand at the helm has swamped the
ship at the very start.” :

t was true enough. The men were on a
strike, and they meant it, too. Days_passed
and not a soul of them returned to his work.
Promises and threats were alike in vain. They
swore they would not lift another hammer while
those rules were kept up; and Mr. Price, on his
ria swore that the mine might go to perdition

fore the rules should come down.

There was hot blood on both sides, As for
Mr. Sterling he only smiled to himself. He was
willing that his partner should have his month
to run the mine,

Jack Manly was not idle. He had much to
look after. In fact, he felt that the utmost vigi-
lance was necessary. He did not fear the well-
behaved miners,as represented by Harry Brown,
but the other gang, headed by Red Mike and
Pickax Pete, were not to be trusted. Jack had

not forgotten the assault on himself; he feared

mischief.

Mr. Price was-not the man to fold his hands
and wait for things to turn up. He went ener-
getically to work to turn sey up. First he
—s to coax some of the men back by offering
higher wages. That failed. Then he tried to
get a force of new men from other parts of the
mining region. '

The higher wages. offered were not without
their effect. A force of men made their appear-
ance at the Edge Hill mine.

But when they saw the lowering faces of the
strikers, and came to fully understand the cause
of the trouble, the most of them refused to go
to work. 3

About ten men was all that could be raised by
a week’s active effort and the offer of specially
attractive inducements.

As for these men, Mr. Price took care that
they should be well armed, and lodged at the
mouth of the mine, It was a dangerous duty
they had undertaken. ate

im Truepenny kept away from the mine
during these proceedings. Jack had positively
forbidden him to come near it. But the boy
was as earnest as ever to stick Be his friends.
He had no reason to love Picka
any of his gang. He had promised Jack to
keep on his side, and did not intend to go back
on his word. ~

One dark _— during this period he had
been sent by Sukey on an errand to a house at
the other end of fhe valley. He was making
his way with some difficulty back along the
dark road. There was not a star in thesky and
every step had to be taken blindly.

Somewhat weary at length with his- difficult
passage, he threw himself for a minute’s rest on
a ide bank. In the distance the lights of
some miners’ cottages could be seen, but just

ound him the blackness looked thick enough
to be cut with a knife. ss :

He had not lain there a minute ere he heard

steps moving in the fleld at the side of the

x Pete, nor |

 

road. There came a suppressed curse as the
sound of a stumble was heard.

“The devil take it!” cried a harsh voice. “It
is as black as the hinges of the lower regions:
‘. — old night to take Christians out of their

“Tt would have been just the night to go for
the breaker,” answered a second voice, ‘“ We'll
be sure to have the stars out to-morrow
night.”

“ Hold your whist!” cried the other, angrily,
but cautiously, ‘It’s none too dark for sars to -
be about.”

“Bars, the deuce! Every soul is under cover.
Excépt the boys that’s to meet at—”

“ Hold your whist, I say!”

This was so decided that the other became
silent, The two men moved on and were soon
out of hearing.

The involuntary listener rose. He was trem-
bling like a leaf. He had caught but a few
words,-but they were full of meaning. The
unruly spirits pore the strikers were not

oing to keep any longer on the defensive,
hey were preparing to take the offensive in
good earnest.

A host of thoughts ran through Tim’s brain
as he stumbled on homeward, $

“They’re only workin’ ag’in’ themselves,” he
muttered, ‘‘ They’re goin’ to burn the breaker,
That’s very nice, but s’pose they want to go to
work afterward? How’s they goin’ to do it?
Anyhow I know what’s my duty. I’m bound
to post Mr. Manly.”

nd so he did. The boy had learned the ne-
cessity of caution, however, and he took great
care to avoid being seen by the strikers as he
sought Jack Manly’s house the next morning.

Jack struck his fist heavily on the table on
hearing Tim’s story. .

Just as I expected!” he declared, ‘I’ve
been dreading something of the kind, But it’s
hard work looking for a_ball when you don’t
know what side it ison. You're a jewel, Tim,
So they’re oing for the breaker to-morrow
night, eh? That’s good as gold. They’ll find
me ready. I must see Harry Brown at once.”

- * But maybe he’s in it,” protested Tim.

“Not he. He’s not that sort. His party ©
don’t want the breaker burned. There are two
gangs of these strikers, my lad, and there’s bad
blood between them, One gag is up to any
mischief. But the other is only striking against
ie fitry.” I can trust them to help me against

eviltry. '

Tim made his way out of the house as cau-
tiously as he had entered it. He was followed,
not long afterward, by Jack Manly, a look ef
satisfaction: on his face. To his active spirit it
was far better to know when and where to
look for mischief, than to continue in the dark. -

We shall not dwell on the events of that day.
It is enough to say that none of our characters
were idle. But when night fell at last, the lo-
cality about the coal-breaker was as silent ag
deat There was no evidence of either intend-
ed attack or defense, Bi

A coal-breaker, as the reader may know, is
an important and costly addition to every coal-
mine. It is a huge structure of timber and
screen wire, built against the mountain-side,

 
“ asavage voice., ‘Do you think to scare us with

~~ front of the breaker. The rattling volley was

20

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

and extending from the mine-opening to the |
valley below. Its purpose is to separate the |
different sizes of coal, and thus to divide the |
coal which is continually gliding downward |
over its screens, into marketable assortments. |
Without the breaker the mine is almost useless. |
About this particular breaker, as the night
on, silence continued toreign. A quickear |
might have fancied whispering sounds within it.
But they might have been only the soughing of |
the wind in the pines.

And as the night grew older other faint
sounds were heard without. It was a low patter,
that at first hearing might have been taken for
falling leaves, It was as dark asthe previous |
night had been, |

No one at a little distance could bave sworn |

_ that there was a soul, either inside or outside. |
Yet the pattering sound came nearer and nearer, |
accompanied by. whispering noises.

And now there came something like a stum-
ble, accompanied by a low exclamation, Sud-
denly the breaker awoke from its long silence.
~ “ Who goes there?” came a clear, sharp voice.

' Noanswer. All fell into dead silence.

* Answer, or I will fire!”

Silence still reigned. There came a quick
flash, the keen report of a pistol. For a single
instant the flashing light dispelled the darkness,
and lit up the surrounding scene. And in the |
foreground of that scene, not ten feet fromthe

foot of the breaker, appeared a serried line of ©
men: dark figtres, with savage faces, in which
» burned the glow of Savereees excitement.

An instant more and all was darkness again,
while not a trace remained of what the pistol
flash had revealed.

j CHAPTER X.
TROUBLE IN THE VALLEY.
A voice which the assailing crew had no diffi-
culty in recognizing rung out through the dark-

ness.

“Back, you hounds! It’s a keen game you’re
playing, but we've checkmated you. Back, I
say! In two minutes more we will sweep that

Ba with pistol balls. If there’s a soul there
then, I pity him.”

“Devil take you, Jack Manly!” roared back

blather? Fire, boys! We’ll not give them two
minutes.” :
A rattle of firearms followed the order, But
_ the defending party were protected by the stout
timbersof the breaker, and the bullets proved
harmless. Jack’s voice rung out again.
““There’s thirty seconds left. Take my ad-
vice, and leave while your skins are whole.”
Silence followed on the part of the defenders.
Bnt there were noises heard on the side of the
at party, as if some of them were de-

= oan and others reloading their weapons.
_ “Jime’s up!” roared Jack. ‘“‘ You’ve had fair
ae ire!” . :

A flash of pistol-shots darted out from the

followed by some cries of pain, and by the
sounds of hastily retreating steps.

The next moment, a keen glow shot out over
the scene. A lamp had been kindled, with a
reflector that threw its light over the spot lately

 

occupied by the strikers. But a decided change
had taken place. Two or three dark forms la
stretched upon the ground. Others were sul-
lenly retreating. But the greater number of
the strikers were in full flight from the danger-
ous locality.

A second volley came. from the breaker,
echoed by some desultory shots from the strikers,
Then the voice of Mr. Price rung out in stern
command:

“ After them, gentlemen! Leap the barriers
and after them! Take prisoners wherever you
can! By Jupiter, V’ll teach these fellows a les-
son that will cure them of burning breekers!”

At this order a dark line of men rose from the
shelter of the breaker and sprung out into the
open space before it. There was a hasty rush,
the sound of cries and oaths, some heavy blows,
the trampling noise of a fierce struggle, the
spiteful crack of an occasional pistol-shot.

Down the slope in front of the breaker the
combatants rushed. Blows, curses, shots, con-
tinued to near the level of the valley. Then the
sounds of the struggle ceased, and the deferders
could be heard returning, with the noise of loud
talk and laughter.

Reaching the point of the first fight, it was
discovered that the men who had lain stretched
on the ground had disappeared. Wounded or
not, they had taken the opportunity to escape.

“What is the result?’ asked Mr. Price, as they
game into the circle of light. ‘‘ My man escaped
me, and I am afraid has given me an ugly black
eye. :

“There are two prisoners,” answered Jack
Manly. ‘Bring them here, men, into the tight.
Let us see what kind of birds we have caught.”

Among the defending pee were several of
the more orderly strikers. But though aiding
in the defense of the breaker, they had been sat-
isfied with performing that duty. They had
made no effort to capture any of their fellow-
strikers. The two prisoners were in the hands
of some cf the new men.

On being brought into the light they proved to

be Schuylkill Sam and a man called Ike Barlow,

two of the most, doubtful characters among the
strikers.

‘‘Not a bad haul,” cried Jack, with some sat-
isfaction. ‘A brace of prime fish, I’ll swear.”

“ By Jove, ll salt them!” declared Mr. Price,
_ his sternest tone. ‘“‘We need an example

ere, ;

The prisoners kept silent, but their lowerin
faces and the savage glare in their eyes told
the passions that raged within. Their clothes
had been nearly torn from their backs in ‘the
struggle, and they presented a most disreputa-
ble appearance. - :

“Come, gentlemen, I fancy there’s no more
work for us to-night,” remarked Mr. Price, rub-
bing his hands with satisfaction. ‘‘They’ll not
a torch to breaker this night, take my word

‘or that.” - ;

“T am not so sure,” answered Jack, witha
shake of the head. ‘‘ We had best leave a guard
on: the look out, and keep the light burning.
That will help to scare off these night-hawks.”

His advice was adopted. In ten minutes more.
silence again reigned about the breaker. Only
@ few sentinels remained on duty. _

 
 

 

  

 

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. 21

 

The night passed away, and the next day
dawned. There was suppressed trouble in the
valley, though the light of the sun failed to re-
veal it. In two or three houses men lay stretched
on their beds, with pale faces and groaning
bodies. Jake Bates had a pistol ball in his arm.
It had escaped the bone, but it was a very pain-
ful wound. Asecond man had an ugly wound
in the shoulder. A third had been struck in
the thigh. None of these hurts were dangerous,
but the wounded men were not likely to give any
trouble for some time to come, |

As for the remaining strikers, they were full
of savage hatred against the mine-owners and
their superintendent. But the taking of two of |
their number prisoners made them uneasy. The
knew that they had a resolute man to deal with |
ia Mr. Price. There was no telling what ex- |
treme measures he might take, |

At three o’clock that afternoon a dozen of
them assembled at Red Mike’s cottage, their
usual place of rendezvous. One man was put on
sentry duty, to guard agfinst spies. The others
sat in Mike’s best room, looking at each other
with dubious glances.

“What's been done with the two boys? That’s
the first question,” queried one of the strikera,
“If they’re in the valley I move we rip them
out to-night. I’m afeard of Sam. He’s got a
loose tongue, and ain’t got no backbone.”

Red Mike shook his head, :

‘Old Price is too many for us,” he remarked. |.

“Sure he’s sent ’em over to Planktown. ‘here’s
nota ghost of a show to fetch ’em. Ain’t I been
thinkin’ of that same meself?”’
‘*Who was it turned traitor and: posted the
bosses? That’s what I’d like to know,” queried
a fellow in the rear of the room.
“Tf you'd believe me you’d have no need to
- ask,” replied another. “Tl bet my hat it’s
Lame Tim, that boy of Pickax Pete’s. Didn’t I
track him to Jack Manly’s house and away
ag’in yesterday mornin’; and wasn’t it him |

spied on us afore? Tell ye what it is, that boy’s |
smelt a rat and blowedit, Pete’s been too easy |
afore him.” :

“ The blazes I has!” roared Pete indignantly.
“What kind of rooster are you buyin’ me for, |
Td like to know? Why, I wouldn’t trust the

oung scape-gallows ’cross my kitchen floor.
Bipose Ts brung up that rat and don’t know his
natur’?”

“ Anyhow, I bilieve it was him,” returned
the other. ‘‘ He’s a spyin’ little rascal, and
mougbt have cotched some of us songneine it:?

“By the ’tarnal blazes!” cried Mike,
“that boy’s got to be laid out... If he wasm
boy wouldn’t I cool him? Faith, maybe

~ wouldn’t, then.”

“You kin do it and be hanged if you want
to,” rejoined Pete. ‘I daren’t hurt him while
Sukey’s about, Now, that’s gospel.”

There came a laugh of derision at this ac-
‘knowledgment by Pete.

“Go ahead, boys. I ain’t got no sort of ’jec-
tion to yer laughin’ if there’s any good in it,
But mebbe if some of you had a woman like
my Bakey you might git some of your fun took
out.

‘Leave it to me,” said the man who had first
spoken. ‘‘ As long as Pote’s afeard of his wife,

 

 

me here to welcome

wny, Dl take ft fn hand, “That boy’s got to be
settled.

“ Hang the care do I care if you make mince-
meat of him,” returned Pete stolidly; “only
I’m not goin’ to do it, that’s all.”

The conference continued for some time

| longer, a. dozen projects for revenge on the

mine-owners being broached and discussed.
“That ingine is got to be stopped,” cried Pete
at length. “If we can’t work they sha’n’t
pump. Can’t the engineer be coaxed over?”
**No more nor you could coax a mule,”
“Then he’s got to be laid out, you hear that?
A judgmatical tap on the head, like. That’s the
only way you kin l’arn sense to sich men.”
At eight o’clock the next morning Jack

| Manly made his usual visit to the mine opening.

Everything appeared asordinary. The breaker
wasintact. But as he came nearer he noticed a
strange silence. There was none of the usual
clank of the engine, no swash of water pourin:
from the mouth of the pump tube. Seve
men stood around the engine-house, These he
oes at a glance as some of the new
ands, ;

“What is the matter?” he hastily cried on
coming near, ‘‘ Where isthe engineer?”

“That’s what none on us can make out,” an-
swered oneof the men. ‘ We’s just out o’ the
mine. Put in an hour’s work, and then com
up slope o smell out what was wrong.” -

“That is very strange,” exclaimed Jack
rather uneasily. ‘‘Some of you run to his
house and find out what ails him.”

“Pat Ryan’s done that same,” was the reply.
< And by that same token here he comes back
now.

The little, red-haired Irishman in question
hurried up, with an odd look on his face. .
“Sorry the soul of him is there,” he declared.
He left the house beyant two hours back.”

‘‘There’s some deviltry afoot, sure enough,”
cried Jack. ‘‘ Off with yu. fellows. Hunt the
bushes between here and the house, And take
a look in the run yonder, This is strikers’
work, I’ll vow.”

The men hurried off at this order, and com-
menced a ee inspection of the locality.
A path led up mountain side from the
engineer’s house to the mine, but it wound its
way through a thick growth of bushes, which
offered fair opportunity for ambush,

The search soon ended, The body of the
engineer was found in a dense part of the
thicket, He seemed to have been felled by a
mn ipsa and then dragged in there from

Fay first sight it was thought that he had been
killed. He had received a heavy blow on the
back of his head, from which the blood had run
freely. But it was soon seen that he still
tesathed. He was locked ina heavy insensi-
ility, j
‘Poor fellow, he has caught that for being

faithful,” said Jack. “Carry bim home, lads.
Ouse,

You, Ryan, run down to Mr, Sterling’s

and inform him of what has happened, I will
stay here by the engine. If any of the strikers
have a notion of paying it a Visit, they’N find

 

 

i4

 

  
”

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

The men obeyed his orders, and tenderly
carried the hurt engineer home.

Jack set his teeth firmly as he proceeded to
examine the engine,

“The hounds think they will stop the mine,”
he muttered. ‘ But Pll be hanged if they do
while [amon hand. I know something of the
nature of a steam engine, and by the old Harry
Pll run it myself until Phil is ready to return to

re
here was no brag in this. The fires had been
banked the night before, and he soon had a good
pressure of steam inthe boilers, A touch to
the lever and the steam rushed into the cylin-
ders. The piston-rod slowly moved. The huge
fly wheel began to turn. Its speed increased.
In and out sprung the rod, around and around
whirled the wheel. Jack looked at it with an
air of satisfaction,

“The mine isin working trim again,” he said,
with set teeth. ‘And it shall be kept so while
Tve got an arm to lift, or a leg to stand on!”

CHAPTER XI.
WHAT HAPPENED IN THE STORM.

WHEN Mr. Sterling came over at Pat Ryan’s
summons it wus to find the mine again in work-
ing order. Jack Manly had thrown off his
coat, rolled up his sleeves, displaying his bare,
brawny arms, and had the engine rattling
and clanking away like a live thing. The water
poured in a thick stream from the pump tube,
and the lifting chains had just hauled a brace
of cars up the slope, to be emptied into the open
mouth of the breaker. :

he mine-owner looked on with much satis-
faction as he saw Jack hurling in great
shovelful’s under the boilers.

‘“ Well done!” he cried, as Jack dropped the.

shovel, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
ae I or know you had so much vim, Mr,
anty.

“ Abul, Mr, Sterling, is it you?’ queried Jack.
“(A deuce of a neat job this morning, isn’t it,
sir? But this mine’s = to run, strikers or no
strikers, I’m here. If those gentlemen want
to call on me, they can find me on hand.”
. “G@éod for you. Is poor Phil hurt badly?”

**Can’t say yet. He got a hard knock. But
he has a hard head to meet it. I fancy he will
puli through all right.”

” 6 - will walk over and see him,” rejoined Mr,
rling.

A half hour afterward Jack had another vis-

‘itor. This was the boy, Tim, who came very
eet into the engine-house.

“ Fillo! my lad,” cried Jack loudly. ‘‘ What's
loose? You look in a flurry.”

“Pm afeared to stay at home,”
Tim. ‘I’m dubious of Pickax Pete.”

‘“Why? Has anything happened?”

“Can't I stay here?’ \jueried
“Mayn’t I stay with you, Mr.

“Certainly, my poor fellow.
all about, Tim?” =

: answered

the boy.
nly?”
ut what is it

“YT dunno but they s’picion me for blowin’ |

*bout the breaker business, Pete looks queer;
and he let out a thing or two, Maybe I’m too
easy skeered, but I wouldn’t stay in that house
to-n a for a fortune.” =

as Jack. “I’ve

i
The blasted villain?’ muttered

a shrewd notion that I owe him a trick myself.
Stay here with me, Tim. They'll not try their
rascally games where I am.”

With a look of satisfaction at this permission,
Tim hastened to make himself useful about the
engine-house, putting things in their places and
tidying up.generally.

“ Sha’n’t I fire for you, Mr. Manly?” he asked
atlength. ‘Iain’t bad at heaving coal.”

‘You? you little rat!” Jack laughed merrily.
“T don’t think I will hire you as a fireman just
now. Wait till you get a few more pounds on
your shoulders.”

“Then maybe I’d.best go down the slope. I
can drive mules, anyway, and I guess you want -
all the hands down there at the coal veins.
‘Can’t spare them for boy’s work.”

Jack looked at him curiously.

‘You're true grit, Tim,” he said; ‘‘ but we'll
talk about that after a while. Just keep still,
and get over your flurry now.”

“Tim subsided again, and an hour more passed
in desultory work about the engine-house.

“Hal” cried Jack, as che patter of rain-drops
sounded on the leaves outside, ‘‘ I thought that
cloud meant something. We are going to have
@ pour.” .

t had grown very dark outside. The mut-
tering of distant thunder was heard. The first
few drops were followed by a more peo fall.

‘Let it come; the ground needs it— hat’s ©
that? I don’t like that music.” :

Something in the sound of the engine had
drawn his attention.

“There’s a screw loose here. Hand me the
monkey-wrench, Tim. ‘

Tim went to the shelf on which the wrench
was usually kept, but it was not there. He |
looked around the room, ‘There was no trace of
ittobeseen, ae

Jack shook his head.

“T’ve a notion the en
with,” he remarked.
they’ve come in here and loosened some bolts,
must have a wrench.” _

He looked around him uneasily.

‘Let me run to Phil’s house for one,”

“‘T doubt if he has any there. I have
home, now.” ; ;

‘Then I will go for it,” declared Tim. ;

“You would have trouble in finding it. If
you think you can keep things going here, I will
run over and get it myself.”

‘¢ Trust me for that,” cried Tim. “ I’ve hel
Phil often. I ain’t no blockhead *bout an ingine,

-if Iam only a boy.” Sa :
Jack looked doubtfully around him, but there
seemed no help for it—the wrench must be had.
He looked out. The rain was still falling, and
the thunder was coming nearer, At that mo-
a a keen lightning flash shot vividly across

e sky. ; ‘ ;
“T fancy you will not be disturbed,” re-
marked Jack. ‘Shut and lock the door, Tim,
and don’t open it ee you hear my rap.” He
ve three sharp blows on the door to teach ©
‘int the signal. ‘‘ And here, take this, If you
are attacked don’t be slow to use it.” :
He drew a revolver from his pocket, and
thrust it into Tim’s hand. pe eae

i ’

ine has been tampered
‘After doing for a

one at

 

t

 
 

-angrily.

_Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. 23

‘Abn

a a understand how to manage it, I sup-

pose .
‘**- You bet I do!” answered Tim, proudly.
‘Keep an open eye, then, Look for me back

in ten or fifteen minutes,”

He hoisted an umbrella which stood in a cor-
ner of the room, and plunged out into the storm,

He heard Tim shut and lock the door behind

him.
“That's right, my boy,” said Jack to himself,
as he pushed on. “ I’ve a notion I can be spared

for one fifteen minutes. But this stower is a

bit_too sharp for comfort.” |

His residence was not very far distant. But
the rain had already made the path muddy,
which delayed him somewhat in reaching it.

- Entering the door he soon bad possession of the

desired monkey wrench. He was about to set
out agzin, when through the open door of the
parlor he discerned the form of Mr. Price.

‘Glad to see you, Manly,” cried the latter.
“Just came over, and got storm-stayed.
What's all this trouble I hear of at the mine?”

Jack very briefly related the occurrence. He
was anxious to get away. He lifted the win-
dow of the parlor and looked out at the rain.
It still fell heavily, and the center of the storm
seemed overhead. There were incessant flashes,
and violent peals-of thunder.

“The murderous wretches!” cried Mr. Price,
“By Jove, T’ll settle them yet.
Dropped poor Phil, did they? Something will
have to be done, Mr. Manly.”

“Yes,” answered Jack, absently. He was
anxious to get away. ©

At that moment there came one of those
sharp cracks of thunder, that seem to go to one’s
very marrow. Mr, Price started back. |

“Bless us!” he exclaimed. ‘‘ What’s that?
An echo of the thunder?” ‘This question re-

_ ferred toa slight, whip-like report that quickly
~ followed the great one,

* An echo?” yelled Jack, “ No, by blazes, it’s
a pistol shot! As sure as fate there’s trouble at

the engine-house!” ae

Wighoat waiting for a reply, or thinking of
protedtion from the storm, he darted with an
agile leap Eee the open window, and
plunged forward through rain and mud toward
the mountain slope. That distant shot had
made him very anxious for his youthful as-
sistant.

Mr. Price stood for a moment stupefied with
rise. ‘

“Bless my soul, but folks have sudden ways
about here!” heejaculated, “I’d think a man
crazy if heacted that way in the city, Well,
well, I must follow, and see what is the trouble,

Possessing himself of Jack’s umbrella, he

‘hastened to follow him, though with many im-

patient exclamations at the difficulty of the
way. A mountain storm was something he had
not been used to. y

By the tims he reached the mine opening, the
heart of the storm had passed over. The thunder
was grumbling to the east, but oe a
om hght gna ig itself, while the rain had
sunk to a gentle :

But if The storm had declined without the

engine house, it was raging within. The engine |

was at rest, but Jack was cursing at a rate to
make the air blue

 

“It’s enough to drive a saint mad!” he fierce-
ly declared, ‘‘ And I never set up for saintship,

ang me if I can fathom it!”

“What is it?’ queried Mr. Price eagerly.

“T left the boy, Tim, here on guard, witha
locked door and a pistol, and the engine running
away like mad.”

*¢ And the boy is gone?”

“Yes. I found the door wide open, the en-
gine stopped, and the boy gone.”

“The confounded little traitor!”

“Who? Tim Truepenny? Why, he is sound
as steel! It’s some of the strikers that has done
this, and I fear they’ve done for the poor boy.
You heard the shot. He was fighting for his
life, poor fellow.”

‘But the door was locked, you say? How
did they = in? There is no sign of violence.”

“That beats me,” answered Jack, shaking his
head. ‘‘There’s something confoundedly mys-
terious aboutit.”

He had now somewhat recovered from his
first excitement, and was in a’ mood to make
some effort to penetrate the mystery. A brief
examination of the mud around the door of the
engine-house, showed the marks of various foot-
steps, some of which Jack judged to have been
made by himself and Mr. Price, But there
were other, sprawliug steps, that seemed as if
made by a miner’s heavy boots. These were
traced both approaching and leaving the door.

“T see no sign of the boy’s steps,” announced

ack.

“ That is strange,” returned Mr. Price.

‘He has not walked away from here, that is
sure. He must have goneona man’sshoulders,
By heaven, I fear the boy has been foully dealt
with! If you will stay here I will follow the
fellow’s steps, I may be able to track him in -
the mud.” s

Without waiting for a reply Jack was off up
the mountain side, easily tracing the heav
tread, which had sunk deep into the mud. It
led first by the path which ran for some distance
up the hill, Here it was readily followed, But
it then turned off into the bush, where only a
faint path had been made. Here there was no
mud, but the dead leaves soaked with the rain,
held some impress of steps, and the eager scout
held his way without a pause.

‘By all that’s good!” he ejaculated, “he is
making his way straight for the old Blockl:
shaft. If he has flung the boy down there it
is all up. It’s a good two hundred feet sheer
down. \

A few minutes more brought him into a
partly open space. In its midst, surrounded by
a rim of bushes, was a yawning hole, ten feet
across at top, and —— down into the earth
with sheer Sseouiaie walls.

It was the abandoned coal shaft to which
Jack had referred. A deep frown came upon
his brow as he saw that the trail went straight
to this gem . The low bushes around it were
trampled, and the mud was kicked up on its
very edge, as if by a vigorous movemen

Jack paused, and is hand uneasily
across his brow, while he bent his eyes down
into the deep dark hollow. }

*Itisall up with poor Tim,” he muttered.
“The devilish hound has tossed him down the
Poor little chap, maybe he is better off,

shaft.

 
24

\

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

for he had a dull life before him.—But if I can
lay hands on his murderer, by the gods, I will
revenge kim!”

This thought stirred him up again. Leaving
the brink of the old shaft be continued to follow
the trail of the murderer. But the mountain
flank about here became open stone, and he soon
found himself at a loss. No footstep could leave
a trace on that hard rock.

It was nearly an hour afterward when Jack
slowly returned to the engine house. He had
made every effort to rediscover the trail, but in
vain. The villain had availed himself of the
bard rock to hide his’ track.

“TItis murder,” replied Jack, to Mr. Price’s
eager inquiry. ‘‘The poor little fellow has
been flung down the old Blockly shaft. If he
were made of cast iron that would end him.
By Jove, I’d give my head .o get hold of the
1aan that did it! The law would be at no cost
to deal with him,”

“He has wrecked the engine as well as mur-
dered its guard,” answered Mr. Price, gloomily,
“What be has done to it I’ cannot imagine,
But itis utterly out of gear.”

Jack stared at him, and then at the engine,
He turned the valve wheel, and let steam into
the cylinder. Mr. Price was right.—The engine
refused to move. But a hot gush of steam
poured out from every joint of the steam chest
that made Jack quickly shut off the valve and
run for his life,

 

CHAPTER XIt.
THE SECRET OF THE OLD SHAFT.

Tue story of what had happened at the en-

zine house ran like wildfire through the valley,

he assault upon the engineer, the stopping of
the engine, and the disappearance and probable
murder of Tim Truepenny became everywhere
known. An intense excitement prevailed: Looks
of satisfaction passed between the more violent
of the strikers, though even many of them dis-
approved of the murder of the boy. But in the
orderly wing of the strikers a feeling of bitter
indignation prevailed.

Harry Brown ran hastily to the engine-house,
on hearing of-the occurrence.

‘Don’t lay it on none of our party, Mr.
Price,” hé’declared. ‘‘There’s not one among
us but would sooner cut off our heads. We're
striking, and we’ve got a right to. But we're
not murdering.” a

““Nobody suspects you, Harry. We know
you too well for that,” answered Jack Manly.

“‘The devil that done it ought to be strun;
up,” cried Harry, clinching his huge fist. “* An
I’m the boy would give a hand to it, Flungthe
boy down the old shaft, you say?”

“Yes,”

** Do you suspicion the chap?”

“No. Yonder are his footmarks, Maybe
some of you may know them.”

At this “hint Harry, followed by the other
men, sought the trail which Jack had lately
followed. They bent over it with eager scru-
tiny. But there was hardly a minute ére a-cry
of discovery came from the eager group.

“It’s the man I thought it was,” exclaimed a
thin faced fellow, the shoemaker of the village.
“Nobody could fool me in the patch I put on

that shoe, hardly a weekagone, And moreover
he’s the chap to stop the ingine, for he brags as
| he knows the whole natur’ of one.”

“Who do you make it out to be?’ queried
Mr. Price, laying his hand on the talkative fel-
low’s arm,

“It’s Terry O'Grady, or Black Terry, as the
boys call him. Why, I’d know his footmark in
Chiny.” ;

“Do you know the man, Mr. Manly?”

“Yes. He is one of the worst of the gang.”

“He shall be arrested at once then; and for
murder,” said Mr. Price, sternly.

“Best wait a minute,” answered Harry
Brown, shaking his head. ‘Make sure first
that the boy’s killed. If the lads here will fetch
a rope and a windlass I will go down the shaft,
and look for the body.”

No sooner said than done. The excited miners
were eager for some active vent to their feel-
ings, and hastened to obe Harry’s suggestion,
While they were procuring the coils of rope,
Sukey, Pickax Pete’s wife, came hastily up the
hillside, her face burning with indignation.

“Ts it so as my dear, poor boy has been
killed?” she cried. ‘And that my- Pete’s the
one that’s done it? Tellme, Mr. Manly.” She
clasped the arm of the sturdy superintendent,
and looked pleadingty into his face. “I can’t
dang it, Pete’s a bad ’un but he can’t be that

“Tt was not Pete, at any rate,” he replied.
“ As for the boy I’m afraid he’s gone. Harry
Brown is going down the shaft for his body.”

The poor woman turned away and wiped the
tears from her eyes. She loved the lad, almost
asmuch asif he had been her own child. He
would not be without one sineere mourner,

By this time the men had gathered the neces-
sary materials, and were making their way up
the mountain side, toward the mouth of the old
sheft. Sukey followed them with a very sad
face. She knew well the savage temper of the
ores and had given up all hope of the boy’s
safety.

Ths windlass was soon firmly set and braced
by the skillful hands that held it, A great
length of rope was coiled around it, for the
shaft was full two hundred feet in depth. A
long, sloping beam stretched out over the cen-
ter of the opening, from whose extremity
dangled the rope, running over a grooved pulley.
= the end of the rope was made a stirrup-like

loop. -

(Where is the chair?” asked Jack, lookix
around him, ‘‘The boy may not bedead. Why
didn’t some of you fetch it? Run down and
bring it, somebody.”

‘Mercy on us, and have we got to wait
longer?” exclaimed Sukey, wringing her hands,
* Tt’s enough to break one’s heart, it is.”

**No,” cried Harry. ‘Dead or alive I can
bring him up as tenderly in my arm as if he
were lashed in a chair. -To the windlass, lads.
Let her run.”

As he spoke he thrust one foot into the stir-
rup, caught the rope easily witb his right hand,
and swung out over the abyss, as carelessly ag
though but ten feet in depth lay below him.

‘‘Lower away!” he commanded, holding bim-

 

self upright with all the reckless ease of an old
miner,

   

wry Ei taht aefh ite, SS vila la AAI ani

Sane

iain ata ba iat ds! Sy ols a

fatbaieathi itn a Sal

 

ioe anti its aa

  
 

  
   

Ee
Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines,

 

The windlass wheel was rapidly turned.
Anxious eyes followed Harry’s form as he
quickly sunk into the shadowy depths of the

old shaft. “Soon only the faint gleam of the |

miner’s lamp in his cap was visible. This, too,
declined to the very iaintest star of light. The
thick coil of rope around the windlass shaft be

came less and less, until it seemed nearly run ;

out.

“Have you rope enough?” asked Mr. Price,
anxiously.

“Yes, He is near the bottom now,” replied

“There! He has touched.”

The taut rope suddenly slackened and swerved
toward the side of the opening. It was but for
an instant, however, for its own weight quickly
straightened it out again.

The suspense of the waiting’ crowd increased
as no signal came from below. They pushed to
the edge of the abyss and sought to penetrate its

depths. ; 2
‘Stand back!” cried Mr. Price, nervously.
“Ybat is dangerous. Some of you will fall.”
‘Not much danger,” answered Jack, with a
smile. ‘We miners are not troubled with weak
nerves, Ha! lads, there’s the signal from below.
Haul away.” i
A quiver had ran up the rope, as if it had heen
violently shaken. Strong handsat the windlass
soon began to thicken the coil around the sbaft.
“ How is the weight?” asked Jack, ‘* Any ex-
tra pounds added?”
“We can’t tell, The boy was such a feather
we couldn’t feel him, anyhow.”
6 eyes of the lookers-on were glued to the
Th f the look glued to th
open mouth of the old shaft. Sukey stood with
sped hands, and as if ready to dart into the
ba * Ease itself after her beloved boy.
eae after turn, the coil of rope was growing

“Here comes Harry’s lamp,” cried one. ‘‘ Ho's
not twenty feet down. Hey, lad! what newa
from below?”

“Steady, steady,” came Harry’s voice, in hol-
low tones, echoing from the well, ‘‘ away,

~and ou'l eee ae jiffy.’ ies :

“By the Lord, he hasn’t the” anyway,”
cried the other. eee

At that instant Harry’s head appeared in
sight. A turn or two more and his whole ieee
wasrevealed. It wastrue, He was alone, He
had not brought up the , dead or alive,

“ Out with it!
Man

ly. : ¢
= The hole is as empty asa new tin pan,” re-

. ‘*There’s not a hair of the boy
Thank Heaven he wasn’t flung down
_ there, at any rate!” —

_ Aloud cry burst from Sukey’s lips at these
words, Her pent-up excitement had to find
vent in some form, and she screamed and tot:
tered from very joy as though the worst new!
had come to her, Nes
_ “There’s a sell in it,” remarked Harry, as he
swung himself to the land, ‘“‘ He is not there,”

“ hen we must go for Black Terry,” cried
Jack, sternly. ‘‘ That devil is at the bottom of
it insome way.” : ; :

At the yy moment in which these events oc-
curred the object of the search was just opening
his eyes to life in a very different

at’s the news?” cried Jack

 

' storm.

locality. Tim

was very far from beingdead. Wherehe was, or
whether he had only been asleep and dreaming he
could not tell for the time being. His open eyes
brought him no information, for all Around him
was of pitchy darkness.

He knew tbat be wasonan earthen floor, The
damp chill of the ground was very perceptible,
And he knew also that there was a dull pain in
his head, He lifted bis hand to the spot and
felt it very painful, while his hand became wet
as if with blood. :

A shudder passed through the boy’s frame,
He rose and groped his way through the dark-
ness, Soon he came in contact with a rough
stone wall. He followed this until his hands
told him that the stone was replaced by wood.
Finally he felt the frame of a door. Grasping
the latch of this he sought to open it, but in vain,
It_was firmly locked.

With a baffled feeling Tim fell back on the
floor of his dungeon. He was very weak, and
his limbs would scarcely support his trembling
frame, Seated there disconsolately in the dark-
ness, he sought to recall the dream like incidents
that were running through his brain.

He could remember the departure of Mr.
Manly into the storm, and his closing and lock-
ing the door behind him. ’

‘That done he had waited patiently, listening
to the flerce thunder, and rather glad that he
was under shelter. Finally a sound as of some
person approaching was heard, and three loud
raps came upon the locked door.

“Mr, Manly’s signal,” muttered the boy.
‘He is back soon,”

He had hastily unlocked and flung open the
door. But instead of the face he expected to see
there were the stubby whiskers and beetling
brows of Black ToT one of the most villain-
ous of the strikers. m had sought to close the
door again, but too late. The strong hand of
the miner pushed it open, with the exclama-

tion: :
“ Nice signal youand Jack Manly has. Guess
you didn’t know there was ears about.”
“Back with you!” cried Tim, tugging out his

pistol; ‘or V1 Ere a ball through you!”

What followed the boy but half remembered,
There was a quick spring forward of the miner,
the explosion of the pistol, a fall of the Villain’s
uplifted hand armed with some weapon. Tim
knew no more till he found himself locked ina
dark, damp dungeon.

But it is well that we should finish the story
of this abduction by telling what happened
after the boy’s fall. ;

Black Terry had come prepared for his work,
and the weapon with which he had felled the
boy proved to be a tool which, in the villain’s
skillful hand, soon disabled the engine, Who-
ever next meddled with it would run serious
risk of being scalded to death for his pains,

This done, he hastily caught up the Me flung
him across his shoulder, and rushed out into the
He was the man who had piedged him- ~
self to ee way with Tim, and now was his~
opport iV , : ~
he lad was as a feather in his , and ten
minutes’ rapid movement brought him to the
brink of the deserted shaft. :

“Blast ’em all, they’! never think of lookin’

 
 

¥

q

Le tee

 

  

 

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines,

 

y
for him here,” muttered thé villain, as he looked
into the dark opening. ‘I'll drop this spyin’
rat into a trap as he’ll not crawl out of soon.”

Snatching the limp heap from his shoulder,
he poised the lifeless boy aloft in his strong
hands over the yawning cavity. ao0

“ Down with you! And may the divil stand
below to catch you!” :

A movement more, and poor Tim would have
been crushed out of dll likeness to humanity at
the bottom of that precipitous hole, But at
that perilous moment the murderous villain
started back, while a deep oath came from his
whiskered lips, :

‘By the blue blazes! I’d like to made a hang-
man’s tool of myself for sure! The worse fool
me not to see as I’ve left my track in the mud,
and if the boy is kilt they'll smell me out b
that patch in me boot sole. Divil take it all,
lve got this boy on my hands and daresen’t do
for him,

_ Ybrowing the boy on his shoulder again, he

_ rushed on over the mountain flank, carefully
seeking the rock outcroppings to hide his foot-
steps. Very cautiously he made his way to a
house on the flank of the valley, in whose cellar
his unconscious victim was safely locked.

Poor Tim, in his underground dungeon, knew
nothing of the danger he had escaped. He sat
disconsolately on the floor of the dark cell for.
an hour more, revolving odd thoughts in his
young brain, :

At the end of this time the silence above him
was broken. The sound of loud voices and
hasty steps was heard. Then came oaths and a
heavy fall. In a minute more the noises came
nearer him, A crashing shock, as from a man’s
heavy boot, dashed open the dungeon dour.
The light poured into the deep gloom of the
cell, Tim’s eyes fell on the open face of Jack

nly.
““T’ve found bim!” cried thatsturdy fellow, in
a tone of exultation, ‘‘ Locked here in the cel-
lar, and by Heaven, with a cut on his head as if
he’d been bit with anax! Come, my poor boy!”
He snatched Tim from the earthern floor and
bore him rapidly up the stairs into a room in
which: the boy’s bewildered eyes saw hosts of
ee. faces, : ae :
ut one scowling visage appea: amon
_ them, and that was the countenance of Blac!
Terry, who ae coiled in a corner, into which he
had been knocked by Jack Manly’s heavy fist.
The next moment Tim was locked in a wo-
man’s arms, and Sukey’s well-known voice cried
above him: : >
** My poor boy! My poor,

rt
safe yet, thank the angels! poor, dear little
‘Tim, as that black villain tried to murder!”

 

CHAPTER XIII.
PUMPING OUT THE MINE.

Yer though Tim Trucpenny had escaped with
his life, and bis would-be marderer, Black Ter-
ry, was held to answer the law for his action,
otherwise the strikers had the best of the con-
flict. The engine was stopped, and there was
not a soul in the valley competent to start it
again. Meanwhile the water was ees. gath-

ering in the mine, For every week’s stoppage

there would be needed two weeks’ pumping to
put the mine in working condition. \

Phil, the engineer, was stil] disa He had
been seriously hurt, and would ndt be able to
leave his bed for some time.

In this dilemma a machinist was telegraphed
for to a distant city. Before he arrived the en-
gine had been at rest for two days. Those who
went down the mine-slope reported the floor
‘already covered with water.

The man, at length came—a spare, sandy
whiskered, sharp-faced fellow, whose jaws were
in constant motion over a cud of tobacco. He
accompanied the mine-owners and the superin-
tendent to the engine-house, listening to their
explanations, but saying very little in reply.

Arrived there, his keen eyes quickly ran over
the motionless machine. By his orders the fly-

 

| But that could not be done in the valley.

r boy! You're |
aster for hisimpatience. As for his partner,

|

his irate partner.

'

wheel was turned by hand, while he listened
intently to the sound made by the slow-moving
machinery.

| For ten minutes this silent‘inspection con-
| tinued, while the anxious. owners waited im-
patiently for his opinion. .

| ** What could the man have done in a few
a to utterly stop the engine?” queried Mr,
| rice. 7

| The stranger made no reply. With pro-
| voking ease he took another chew of tobacco
rolled it for a moment under his tongue an

then ejected a mouthful of tobacco-juice. -

“Hand me that monkey-wrench,” he said.

Grasping the wrench, he proceeded to re-
move the bolt that held the front plate of the
steam chest. In a few minutes this was off,
and he inserted his hand into the dark cavity.
After a careful fingering be straightened him-
self and looked Mr. Price in the face,

* Just as 1 thought,” be remarked,

“Just as you thought, eh? And pray what |
did you think?” asked Mr. Price, with a touch
of an impatience,

‘* A’broken valve. It is slipped out of place,
;and all the steam in creation would not have
| moved that engine,”

** But how did Black Terry do that?”

‘He had nothing to do with it. It came by
course of nature. All he did was to loosen the
bolts of the steam chest,so as to make a blow
|out. There will have to be a new valve EP
did not boast a machine-shop, It was necessary

| to send miles away. And as the first piece made

' proved a misfit, nearly a week b

the engine was again in serviceable condition.
Mr. Price fretted and fumed, growled and
mbled, but events did not move any the

passed ere

Mr. Sterling, that gentleman took things very
uietly. In fact, a furtive smile marked his
ace, as he listened to the angry comments of

‘©The new rules are working splendidly,” he _
remarked to Jack Manly. ‘‘Price’s month is
more than half out, but he can have the full
length of bis rope. No doubt he will teach us
ae toruna xn ai Zz :

nce more the engine obeyed the er of
steam and the huge fly-wheel Sarclved eid all
its old speed 4

 

 

 

 

 

 

, while an incessant stream of

, water poured from the mouth of the pump ~~
 

aint

 

 

j

 
  

 

 

   

 

 

 

   
  
   
   

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

. abroad prove

€

‘Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

tube. But during the enforéed stoppage the
mine had becume badly drowned out, and it
was calculated that two weeks’ constant pump-
ing would be necessary to reduce the water to
its old level.

Meanwhile other events were taking place not
zalculated to help Mr. Price’s temper. His
efforts. to increase his working force from
utter failures, The violent tem-
per of the strikers became known, and men
were afraid to take advantage of the increased
wages offered.

-Indeed, of those already secured, a full half
took the opportunity of the stoppage to get
away from that dangerous locality. Of the re-
mainder, two, who had ventured into the village
after nightfall, were discovered and assailed by
the strikers, and only escaped a dang rous

_ pummeling by showing a clean pair of heels.

At an early hour next morning these men and
their comrades made their way to the train,
They had concluded that the Edge Hill Valley
was growing too hot to hold them,

It may be imagined that the state of Mr.
Price’s temper was not improved by this cir-
cumstance. He was compl tely at a loss what
to do next. As for yielding he had not a
thought of it. He was of that stubborn dispo-
sition which only grows more obstinate with
every new difficulty.

He was given an opportunity to retire grace-
fully, if he had wished todoso, Harry Brown,
who was the acknowledged leader of the orderly
strikers, had said to his fellows:

‘Come, lads, I shouldn’t wonder if the bosses
was getting enough of this business. But I
spose they’re a little too proud to ask us back.

‘I moye that we pive them a chance to back

down. Anyhow n
ing eoute Hammering coal is more
my line. *
X Bue the mine ain’t fit to go in now,” ob-
jected one of his hearers.
“Tt will be in a week. We'd best_ know
what’s to be done. If I can’t work here I must
work somewhere else.”
At this suggestion a delegation of the miners,
headed by Harry, called on Mr. Price, That
entleman received them very pleasantly. He
‘ancied that the strikers were feeling the pres-
sure in their \pockets, and were ready to give

in.

‘“‘Welve just dropped round, Mr. Price,” be-
gan Harry, politely taking off his hat, ‘to say
as we don’t nohow approve of the wa Pickax
Pete’s gang is carrying on, We're strikers, but
we ain’t of the knock-down and drag-out sort.
There’s nobody can say that we’ve got anything
to do with this murdering and engine-tapping
business.” — . é
* You don’t need to tell me that, Harry,” an-
swered Mr. Price, pleasantly. “‘I would as
soon suspect Jack Manly as you.” :

“Ts just a question of work or no work,
that’s all,” continued Harry, ‘We've got our
arms and our iddication, and you’ve got your
mine. You want coaleand we want wages.

us wages and we'll give you coal.

m getting a bit tired of a

Yi ive
; Now that’s simple and easy to settle, isn’t it,

“Exactly,” . Price. rubbing his
hands with ectistocton There's the thine,

again.

 

_ Mr, Sterling quietly

27

my lads. Strike in as soon as the water is out,
and I don’t think we will have any further
trouble.” ~

He cast a look of triumph at Mr. Sterling,
But that gentleman sat with a faint smile on
his lips. He could see that there were stormy
waters behind all this smooth sai‘ing,

“That’s clever,” replied Harry. “I’m glad
we've hit the mark so easy. There’s ove other
little item, That is, to take Cown them ridicu-
lous rules, which no man in his senses can live
up to, and the whole of us will strike in, bone
and sinew.” ‘ :

“Take down therules?” stammered Mr. Price,
with a bewildered utterance.

“Yes, that’s all any of us boysask. We're
not going to be cranky.”

_ “But that’s all there is to ask.”

“Well then, it can be settled the easier,”
Harry stoldily answered.

“Tl be hanged if it can, then!” roared Mr. —
Price, as his surprise gave place to anger,
“There’s nothing like being cool, but you can’t
buy me for a paby, Harry Brown. Those rules
stay up, work or no work.”

“Then we stay out, coal or no coal,” returned
Harry. ‘‘1 was in hopes that you’d come back
to common sense, Mr. Price, and found out that
even a working man hassome rights. And you'll
excuse me for saying that if would bave been a
good deal wiser if you had stayed where you
came from, and left Mr. Sterling to run the
mine. Come, lads, I s’pose there’s no use wast- -
ng ere i x

. Price’s hasty temper had now reached a
pitch of fury. ty

“By Jove,” he cried, ‘but this is rich!
Maybe you'd like to take the mine and run it

on your own hook? I tell you what it is, lam
‘running that mine, not you. Those rules stick

if every soul of you never strike blow in it
You hear that!”

“And we'll never work under them, if we
never strike blow again,” replied Harry, sternly.
“You've given us your last word and well
re you ours. The mine will be dry in a week.

ou can have that week to change your mind,
If, those rules don’t come down it’s good-by to
Edge Hill for us. We can find work where we
don’t have to be slaves, “ Come, lads, there’s bo
use wasting words.” j

The delegation followed their spokesmen out, —
their looks indicating that they fully a
with him in his ultimatum. .

“Well, may I be hanged—” began the furious
mine-owner. He could get out no more wcrds,

and stamped his indignation on the floor.
“‘Good Heavens, Tom Sterling!” he continued
angrily. ‘One would think you had no interest

in this matter. There you stand, coolly smoking

your cigar, and smiling as if you enjoyed the

way these dogs are insulting me! I am out of

patience with you.” ‘
“Excuse me, Price,” quietly answered Mr. —

Sterling. ‘‘Your month is not up yet. I

5 pee not to interfere.” He puffed easily as

ci

é — take me, but you’re worse than the
men

Mr. Price flung the door’ violently open, and
ran out to cool his temper in the cuedou aie

/
Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

 

“¥ fancy Priée is going to find out that men
can’t be bandled as you’d handle pig-iron or
coal,” he remarked. “‘He had better practice
at driving mules before he tries it on miners.”

We must run hastily over the events of the
succeeding week.

Phil, the engineer, was out of bed and able to ;
move around again, but was not yet in condition |

to resume the command of his engine, which
was still under the charge of the machinist.
The boy, Tim, not able to get over his dread

of Pickax Pete, had taken up his residence with.

Jack Manly, whom he served as a sort of second
lieutenant. :

The mine water was now rapidly lowering
and there was reason to believe that it would
be in working condition by the end of the week,

The week ended. Monday morning came.
The temporary engineer called on the mill-

owners.
“The water is all out,” he announced. ‘‘The

mine is in working trim, and your own man has |

got his head again, I fancy I can go back to
e shop.
“You have done a good two weeks’ work,”
replied Mr. Sterling. ‘We have the mine; it
is now only a question about the men. How
now, Priced What have you tosay about the
new rules?” Sat
“They shall stick, men or no men!” was the
dogged answer. — :
“Jvll be no men, then,” remarked Tim True-
nny, who had just entered with a' message,
‘Harry Brown says as how the week’s up, and
the rules ain’t come down. Him and the rest
strike out this afternoon for the Slope Run re-
ion, They swear they’re done with Edge
ill. |
Mr. Price gazed at the boy steadily for a full
minute without saying a word. He then turned
on his heel- and left the room. The others
resent looked on in some surprise at this ac-

ion,
A half-hour afterward a gentleman, who | had
wore a linen duster and carried a traveling- | jif

sachel, might have been seen walking wit
great strides toward the railroad station. He
evidently was not anxious to be observed.

An express train came up in a few minutes

after he reached the station, Quickly stepping |

on board, he was soon driving away at great
speed from Edge Hill valley.

Two hours afterward, a telegram from a sta-

tion far down the road was handed to Mr. Ster-

ling. Not knowing what had happened, he
tore it open with some curiosity, and read as
follows:

“ Good-by, Tom. My month is up, and Iam off for
Philadelphia. You can run the mine as you please.
Blow it up if you want to. I wash my hands of it,
But the Saat ing I try to bei miners I'll take a

month’s practice at pig ir wig beer

A laugh of exultation broke from-Mr. Ster-
ling’s lips. He handed Jack Manly the tele-

“Read that, Jack,” he cried. ‘Price has
thrown up the sponge, and is in full retreat. Of
with you after the men. Don’t let them go.
Tell them Tom Sterling has hold again, and

down come the new rules.’

y

Vs

 

** And while he’s doing it, Pll make for the
mine, and rip them off the walls,” exclaimed
Tim, as he eagerly followed Jack from the room.

CHAPTER XIV.
THE FLASH OF THE DAMP.

Jack Man ty was too late in his effort to in-
tercept the departing miners. He found that
some ten of the best men, headed by Harry
Brown, had already left the village, with the
purpose of seeking work elsewhere. The re-
mainder absolutely refused to enter the mine.
They were hand and glove with their fellows,
and would not go back on any bargain whicb
Harry and bis companions might make. Jack
returned a little crestfallen. -

“ Somé@thing will have to be done, Mr. Ster-
ling,” he said. ‘‘Our rough boys are ready to
jumpin. But it will be a queer kind of work-
in ; Bang that is made up of the refuse of the
village.

‘‘Price’s month lasted aday too long,” replied
Mr. Sterling, musingly. ‘I don’t just see my
way clear.”

“Why, they’re off in the accommodation, sir,”
remarked Tim, who was present. _‘‘ There'll be
an express along in an hour that’ll beat it hol-

low.”

“By Jove, the boy has hit it!” cried Mr. -
Sterling, excitedly. ‘‘T'll after them, express
haste! They can make their own rules, s
them. I am not afraid of their overstepping the

— You can get the mine ready for work,
ack,

‘Tt must be ventilated first,” remarked Jack, =

**T will set the air-pumps fein." 7

“ And it’s half full of fire damp,” suggested
Tim. ‘Iwas just down slope,”

“Beware, then, of an explosion,” returned
Mr. Sterling. ‘‘I must be off. I leave it in
your hands, Mr. Manly.” ~~

In an hour more he was rattling out of the ©
valley on the afternoon express, Jack quickly ©

ad the air pumps going, and was driving the
e-giving air in great volumes into the long
deserted mine,

“You will have to make a night of it, Phil,”
he said to the engineer. ‘It must be dreadful
stale down.there. But if you drive fresh air
in tiil morning | it may be fitfora istian to
venture down. ;

“It’s bad enough now,” remarked Tim. “TI
was down to the level, and found it choking full
of damp, Had to slide up ag’in in a hurry.”

While these events were transpiring there —
was a part of the mining force tly gratified
at the turn pres had taken, The rough crew,
as represented by Pickax-Pete and Red Mike,
had begun their month’s idleness with very
little money in their pockets. This had soon
vanished in improvident living, and for two
weeks they had been put to great straits to
obtain the necessaries of life. Thus the hope of
going to work again came to them as a great
relief, Several of the most violent of the party
were in prison, and of those remaining the mass

were not actively wicked, but had merely let
influence of

‘themselves be led astray by the

their ugly-tempered associates.
On Tuesday morning, therefore, when Jack
prepared to descend the mine slope, he

 
-

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines,

found a group of these fellows gathered about
the opening, eager to get back to their long-
forsaken work.

“The new rules is down,” cried one, and
that was the only peg in the way. We's the
boys asis ready to swing pick and drive bar
with any gang in the mountains.”

“Stay where you are,” remarked Jack, run-
ning his eyecoolly over the rough group. “‘I am
going down to test the mine, It must be cleared
of damp first before any one goes to work.”

With a Davy safety lamp attached to his cap
front he plunged into the mine opening, and
was soon lost to view down the dark slope, The
men looked after him. With their usual heea-
lessness they could see ‘no use in such extra pre-
caution, and were quite ready to dive into the
perilous underground depths,

‘Paix, one might think as niver a soul of us
had been down a slope afore,” growled Red
Mike. ‘‘Jack Manly better put usin a cradle
and feed us on pap, like so many babies,”

“Tm goin’ down,” cried Pickax Pet». ‘8’
the damp’s any wuss for us than for him? I
guess we're old enough to take care of our-

selves,”

“You'd best stay where you are,” warned
some of the more cautious. ;
_ But warning was lost on the reckless miners.
Lighting their lamps, Red Mike, Pickax Pete
and twoor three others ates into the slope,
heedless of the unseen dangers of the miue.
After them slipped the boy Tim, eager to share
the danger of his kind friend, the superin-
tendent. ‘

~The remainder of the men continued at the
surface, and eagerly waited the report of their
more daring comrades,

And still the powerful engine clanked away,
driving the life giving air through every chan-
nel of the mine. : .

Had they seen all that was going on within
those cavernous depths they would scarcel
have waited so quietly on the summit. e
must follow the bold men who had thus left the
light of day, and trace their adventures within
the mine. é

Jack Manly, on reaching the main gallery
proceeded cautiously forward, testing the air ot

_ the passage for fire damp as he did so.

“All sweet here,” he muttered. ‘The en-
gine is telling. If there’s any of the obstinate
stuff it is hanging in the working drifts, and at

the dead ends of the galleries,”

He went slowly forward. Caution was neces-
sary, for it was impossible’ to tell the condition
of the deeper regions of the mine. Indeed, af-
ter a half hour’s exploration he found evidences

of dump unmistakable, And it was. mixed ,

with the air of the mine in the most explosive

“
fully. ‘‘1t will take another day and night of
ventilation. Lf I let the men down here now
they would be sure to blow up the mine, Hal

e daring fools. There’ssome of them down

\ : y

is exclamation was caused by the sight of
- proaching light. It came nearer, and his
eyes caught the face and form of Pickax

arsh frown came upon dack’s brow, He

‘

on. | to
t won’t do.” He shook his head doubt-

quietly under the stunning blow

which he had formerly received in that very
' gallery. He was not the man to forgive treach-
ery 80 easily, but had shrewdly investigated
the occurrence until he was satisfied uiat Pick-
ax Pete was the man who had assailed him,
Naturally, then, be now beheld him witb an
impulse of anger.

“ What brings you here?” he cried, harshly.
“Did I not order that no one should follow me
into the mine?”

“We're not babies, Jack Manly!” Pete inso-
lently rejoined. ‘S'pose old chaps like us
don’t, know the natur’ of the damp? We're not
green hands, to blow ourselves to Jericho.” :

“JT don’t care a fig what you are!” was the
impatient answer. ‘I would have you know
that I’m boss in the Edge Hill mine, and when
Isay no man is to follow me I mean it. And
you, least of all.” :

“ — as I’ve done nothin’,” Pete sullenly
replied. :

TK You haven’t, you murderous hound? Who |
but you sought to kill mein this very gallery!
Hang you! if there’s never a blow struck or a
blast fired in the mine, you shall not lift a ham-
mer init. It is not big enough to hold you and
me both.” ; 5

Tt’s a lie, whoever says it!” roared Pete in.
reply. “I didn’t touch you, Jack Manly,
though I owe you no love.”

“You lie, you dog, you did!” :

“Lie, dol?” The buge fellow closed his fists
| and advanced threateningly. ‘‘I don’t take no
sich word as that from no man.”

“ You will have to take it from me,” answered -
Jack, fiercely. ‘* You're a murderous dog, and |
by all that’s good you shall see the inside of a
jail before you're a week older.”

“Then Dil give you something more to do it
for!” cried Pete, furiously.

He sprung forward and struck a hard blow
at Jack’s face. But the latter was on the alert. —
He easily parried the blow and surprised his —
antagonist by a sharp return that laid him |
prostrate on the rocky floor. 5

ne like a wild bull the furious miner
| scrambled to his feet again and ran madly for-
ward, striking fierce blows with his heavy fists,
But it was the effort of brute strength against
science. Jack knew thoroughly how to use his
fists» and played his one, two, three on the
bully’s face until it was puffed up like a blad-

der.

Pete failed to get in a single blow, while he
was being severely punished. Another opening
and another sharp tap on the temple, and he
went down like a stricken bullock. This time
he was in no haste to get up, bat remained pros-
trate, breathing heavily and cursing in a low

{
bad not rested

|
}

ne,

“There, I faacy I have taught you a lesson,”
said Jack, io down contemptuously on the
fallen bully. “That pays up tor the past, but
don’t you ever set foot in this mine again.”

He walked away, leavirg Pete prostrate and
bleeding. The miner’s lamp had been exXtin-
geemnes in the fray, and he remained in utter —
arkness. There was no light except that com-
ing from the diminishing gleain of the superin-
tendent’s lamp. p
"TBhe whipped bully scrambled to his feet and

 

i F

 
 

  

.

   

   

_ 80

staggered on after this light, his dark mind full
of revengeful thoughts.

Heedless of danger Jack moved slowly on,
stopping here and there to examine some poin
in the mine. He did not dream that murder
was tracking his footsteps.

There did come to him a faint suggestion of
sound, as if there were some one in the mine be-
sides himself. But at this moment a light ap-
peared arownd a distant angle of the gallery,
and rapidly approached. His quick eye recog-
nized the form of the boy, Tim.

“What brings you down here?” he sternly
asked. ‘ Did I not order—”

“ Ware!” cried Tim, with startling energy.
“ Stoop!—Oh! Lord save us!”

His warning came too Jate. The last excla-

_™ation was drawn out as a stunning blow fell

upon Jack’s unprotected head, knocking him
senseless to the floor.

Tim had tirst sprung forward, with coer im-
pulse. But he now turned and fled through the
mine, with cries of ‘Help! Murder! Pickax
Pete has killed Mr. Manly!”

**Yes, and I'll do for you, too,” and the pur-
suing villain closed his hand on the lame lad.
“T’ve often promised to settle you, you dirty
little rat; and now’s the time!”

His heavy fist struck Tim a fearful blow, and
hurled the shrieking boy upon the form of his
helpless friend. Pete looked down upon them
with paring eyes. :

“TZ ’'m not to work in the mine again, you
sha’n’t,” he poled oo “Tl pay you out for
the way you sarved me,”

With dark thoughts ee in his savage
brain, he tore the lamps from the cap fronts of
his two victims. One of them he hooked to his
own, The other he placed on the floor, and
with a savage wrench broke open the wire
screen which forms the safety appliance of the
Davy ye The naked flame sbot up into the
air, so full of inflammable gas. :

“ You come down to find the damp. Maybe
you'll find too much of it,” muttered the villain,
pa rose and ran for his life along the wide
gallery. :

‘Yet, run fast as he would, the vengeance he
had invoked ran faster. ; :

There came a blinding flash; a thunderjike
roar; a terrible rush of air through the avenues
of the mine. The fleeing murderer was caught
up as though he had been a feather and dashed
a terrible force against a rugged wall of
rock, ,

When he fell back to the floor no life re-
mained in his crushed limbs. _He had fired the

arilous gas and was the first victim to the dead-
fy power which his own hands had set loose,

 

CHAPTER XV.
WHAT FOLLOWED THE FLASH. —

Tux terrible event which had happened with-
in ths mine did not fail to make itself evident to
those outside. A peculiar rumblin;
to their ears; but it was preceded by a gush of
air from the mine mouth, and a sudden flash
that for an instant lit up the slope.

“Good Heaven! the dom s ‘exploded!”
the cry, as they fell back in dismay,

of

4

Ko

Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines.

tie
i

their eyes wide open with fear and eicitement.

** And a half-dozen poor fellows down there,”
exclaimed the engineer. pits a terrible bad
business.”

“They mayn’t be all dead,” cried one of the
men. ‘“‘We must go down, lads, afore the
amotherin’ after-damp comes along. It’s only a
touch and go flash. There’s no further harm,
except it’s set fire to the coal.”

A half-dozen volunteers were quickly fornd
to accompany him. There was no time to be
lost. The heavy carbonic acid which gashers
after an explosion might smother all who re-
mained alive. Hastily providing themselves
with the necessary .appliances they burried
down the sloping entrance gallery, and were
soon on the mine floor, __

It was as the miner had said, a touch-and-go
explosion, There was no light in the-mine, and
but little difficulty in breathing the air. Divid-
| ing themselves into squads they rapidly made
| their way through the various galleries, keeping
| a keen lookout for the imperiled miners, -

“ Here’s two of them, and dead as door nails!”
cried a pioneer, as he came upon the forms of
Jack Manly and Tim. ‘‘And by thunder, an
open lamp along side. No wonder the damp
flashed.”

The forms were recognized as those of the su-

rintendent aud Lame Tim. Hastily lifting

hem the stalwart miners bore them back to the
foot of the entrance slope, and laid them in an
open car that stood there. =

Hardly had they done so ere others of the
searching party appeared, evidently carrying
something heavy.

‘*What’s the news?” was the cry.

‘eT wo gone under!” came an excited reply.
“Dashed ‘to atoms, poor devils! It’s Pete ano
Red Mike. They’ve mined ttpir last coal!”

While this conversation was going on two
other men appeared from a side agen The:
were unwounded though badly frightene
‘They had been too far away from the exploding
gas to feel/its full effects. PS :

‘Good! There’s two alive, at any rate.
That’s all that came down. Hook on, and give
Phil the signal to pull. The after-damp is”
thickening. 5

Throwing themselves into a second car, they
lay down so as not to be struck by the low roof
of the slope, and were quickly drawn up by the
power of the engine.

The news of the ee had by this time
spread through the valley, and anxious men and
women were streaming from all points to the
scene, The crushed bodies of Red Mike and
Pickax Pe'e were first lifted from the car and
laid on the board platform beside the engine
house. Then the two other insensible
were removed. ee

“Poor little Tim!” said one of the miners.

 

 

noise came

  

feelingly. “‘‘It’s a pity for him. But where
bpa he got it? He don’t seem to be burnt nor
rn 3

“No more does Jack Manly,” replied another,
“I dunno what’s ‘killed them, except it’s swal-

»lering the fire.”

“Killed them! By the Lord, they are no
more dead than I am!” exclaimed -en-
gineer, ‘‘ Don’t you see the man’s

   
‘Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. ©

ng up a bucket of water he excitedly
. it over the two forms which Jay side by

+ on the platform. It was a rough but ef-
seciua] remedy. A quiver passed through Jack’s
form. He stirred and turned heavi 7. over.
His eyes opened and gazed with bewilderment
into the surrounding faces.

It had a still stronger effect upon Tim, A
choking cough burst from him. He scrambled
up upon his hands and feet, with an .odd
grim.xce.

‘“Where am If. What has hapened?” as’ ed
Jack in faint tones.

** We picked on up for dead. The fire damp
went off around you.”

**Me dead?
easy. I’m worth adozen dead men yet. What's
the harm? Anybody hurt?” ,

“Yes, Red Mike and Pickax Pete have
gone under.”

“Pickax Pete?’ recollection ‘was slowly re-
turning. “‘ By all that’s good, men, he tried to
kill me! If he is dead, he is only paid back in
his own coin.” © .

We need not follow up this conversation.
Further research brought out the facts of the
case. It became evident to all that the ex-
plosion was no accident, but had been a deliber-
ate effort on the part of Pickax Pete to destroy
the victims of hismalice. By astrange fatality
his murderous scheme had turned against him-
self. He had been crushed by the bomb his own
hand had kindled, ;

The safety of Jack and the boy was assured
by the very causes which the murderer had
counted on to kill them. The flame had flashed
from them, not toward them. Their position
had resembled that of a man who starts a prai-
rie fire to burn out in all directions from bim,
and leave him safe in the center. Their pros-

trate itign saved them from the violent re-
coil of the air of the mine. Aud their insensible
and almost unbreathirg condition had secured
them agaiust the poisonous carbonic acid, which
the explosion of fire-damp leaves in the low
Jewels of the mine. 5 ;

Tt seemed almost as if fate had interfered to

tect them from the dea_h that threatened.

Our story may be briefly ended. Mr. Ster-

«’g mission proved successful. He brought

“he ing miners with him, ready and

ou don’t kill Jack Manly so

31

| anxious to go to work as soon as the mine was
| in condition. The strike was definitely over,
| but thestrikers had won, and Mr. Price’s new
| rules, which were to work such wonders in the
| mine, came down with a rush as soon as that
gentleman’s back was turned. in
A few days more of ventilation ard the mine
' was pronounced in shape for working. Once
; more the sound of kammer and pick and the
muffled roar of the blast scunded in its cavern-
| ous depths. Once more the coal came rapidly
, up the slope, to be Ee into the breakers,
| Once more the mule teams slowly drew the
| loaded cars along the dark galleries. But Tame
Tim no more drove them. He had cease} +9 be
a mule boy of the mines. .

In fact, Jack Manly had decided that ts_ buy
was unfit for such labor. There was more in
him than was necessary for mule driving, and
Mr. Sterling, who fully appreciated the boy's
services during the strike, undertook to send
him to school and give him an education.

He also saw that Sukey, the widow of Pickax
Pete, should not come to want. Tim- continued
to live with her in the old house by the moun-
tain side, but it was a far different life now that
their tyrant was no longer there to make their
lives miserable. She loved the boy as if he had
been ber own child, and he looked up to her as
to a mother. Two heppier persons could not
easily have been found in Edge Hill Valley than
the couple who lived in Pickax Pete's ol resi-
dence, aud indulged in fried apples whenever it
pleased their vagrant fancies.

~The Edge Hill colliery still continues under
the ownersbip of Messrs. Price & Sterling. But
the elder member of the firm attends only to
the city branch of the business, and is quite
content to leave the mine in Mr. S'erling’s care. _
He is satisfied that nature never intended him —
to run a mine. ,

Jack Manly is still in their service. Now that
the mine has been well weeded of its dangerous _
elements he has no further trouble, and is om,
of the most successful mine superintends743
the whole region. ; ss

As for Tim Truepenny he has beer “ovated
to the position of bookkeeper and privaus secre-
tary for Mr. Sterling,and no one in the trim,
neat, good looking young man would ever
recognize Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mine

 

 
 

 

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Extracts from the New York Evening Sun.

TWO REMARKABLE

In only one sense of the word can it be regarded asa
novel statement when the fact is here recorded that litera-
ture has given many heroes to the world, and perhaps
more than one reader will have to think a moment over
this remark before the subtle delicacy of its genial wit
strikes home,

But it is most essentially a half dime novel statement
that will be news to many when it is added that litera-
ture, if traced from the dimly distant days when Adam
was a mere child down to the present day, would show
but few heroes that in the eyes of boyhood wouid be
even judged worthy of comparison with the two greatest
heroes known to American literature, or, to promptly re-
veal them, Deadwood Dick and Deadwood Dick, Jr.

* * The medern heroes of fiction for young America,
55 are now as countless as the sands of the sea, and of
whom the Deadwood Dicks are much the most important
° * * it is but natural that their * * * should bear
away the palm of popularity, and suchas * * * be left
far behind in the race,

It can be easily believed, therefore, that the two Dicks
are so firmly ¢ grafted on the tree of popular literature
for, boys and 5 ung men, that thele position is assured

= and thav they stand to-day head and shoulders

 

HEROES.

above all rivals in the eyes of the public for which thes
have lived, and for which one of them has died,

American boyhood, and that is a tremendous factor in
the land, now knows Deadwood Dick, Jr., a good beal bet-
ter than it knows its catechism, and millions of young
minds absorb the thrilling incidents of his career in his
everlasting warfare against crime and his never-ending
solving of impenetrable mysteries.

Millions of boys follow his stealthy footsteps as he tracks
his vicious victims to their undoing, and then, when the
victims are thoroughly undone, the millions wait hungrily
for the next volume, which on every Wednesday appears
with the certainty of the Wednesday itself, and a new set
of BO thrills go thrilling away from Maine to Calf
fornia,

There are the volumes each so crowded with thrills and
heart-tugs that It were madness to hope to do justice to
them collectively and rank injustice to discriminate be
tween them,

To abandon the idea of giving a few extracts causes In-
finite pain, but if once a start were made in that direc-
tion, it would be cruel to The Evening Sun’s readers to
stop, and it is therefore better not to relate one single
adventure, Suffice it to say that the stories are clean and
well written,

 

DEADWOOD DICK LIBRARY.

1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road

2 The Doysle Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick’s Defance
8 The Buffalo Demon; or, The Border Vultures

4 Buffalo Ben, Prince of the Pistol

5 Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval]

§ Death-Face, the Detective

Y The Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza
8 Old ee, the Great Annihilator; or, Wild

na, te Girl Brigand

9 Bob ¥ Woolf, the Border Ruffian
» ne. on, ig Masked Terror; or, Deadwood Dick

n Dan
ui Simm Bindsoe, Jr.,the Boy Phenix; or, Through to
12 Bexaeocd Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood

Bar
Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red ‘Rifle Team
4 Gok Rifle, the Sharpshooter
S Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane
HF Rosebud” Charlie, the Boy Bravo
7 bud Rob; or, Nugget Ned, the Knight o. the

6B lash rae Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand

%® Ptrotograph Phil: or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance
2 ee: -Eye, the Shadow

91 De: cree Dick’s Device; or, The Sign of the Doubie

2 Canada Chet, the Counterfeiter Chief
s ee ee Dick in Leadville; or, A Strange Stroke
or Li
M Deadwood va Dick as Detective
® Gilt-Kdge Dick
% Bonanza Bill, the Man-Tracker; or, The Secret Twelve
¥W Chip, the Girl Sport
= Jack Hoyle’s Lead; or, The Road to Fortune
Bess Bob, the King of Bootblacks
wn Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon .

G
& Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base
@ Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent

 

83 Tony Fox, the Ferret: or, Boss Bob's Boss Job

84 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike

35 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; or, ‘"he Picked Party

86 New York Nell. the Boy-Girl Detective

87 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Scamps of the Sierras

88 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo

89 Deadwood Dick's Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last
Adventure

40 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivals of the Road

41 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hills Jezebel

42 The Arab Detective; or, ‘Snoozer, the Boy Sharp

43 The Ventriloquist Detective. A Romance of Rogues

44 Popceure Josh Grim; or, The Young Gladiator's

ame

45 The Frontier Detective; at Sierra Sam’s Scheme

46 The Jimtown Sport; or, Gypsy Jack in Colorado

47 The Miner Sport; or, Sugar-Coated Sam's Claim

48 Dick Drew, the Miner’s Son; or, Apollo Bill, the
Road-Agent

49 Sierra Sam, the Detective

50 e Sam’s Double; or, The Three Female Detect-

51 Sierra Ss Sam’s Sentence; or, Little Luck at Rough

52 The Girl 3 ort: or, Jumbo Joe’s Disguise

58 Denver Doll’s Device; or, The Detective Queen

54 Denver Doll as Detective’

55 Denver Doll’s Partner; or, Big Ruckskin the Sport

56 Denver Doll’s Mine; or, Little Bill’s Big Loss

57 Deadwood Dick Trapped

58 pe a k, Detective; or, The Messenger Boy's
ortune

59 Deadwood Dick’s Disguise; or, Wild Walt, the Sport

60 Dumb Dick's Pard; or, Eliza Jane, the Gold Miner

61 Deadwood Dick’s Mission

62 Spotter Fritz: or, The Store-Detective’s ee

63 The ot Road-Agent; or, The Miners of Sassa

fras Cit
64 Colorado Charlie’ "s Detective Dash; or, The re
ings

 

M. J. VERS & CO., Publishers (James Sullivan, Piopelsioes
379 Pearl Street, NEW YORK.