Derrick Sterling: A Story of the Mines

Mrs. Halford agreed to this, and after they had visited the blacksmith's shop, where a cheery young fellow named Aleck was installed in Job Taskar's place, they went back to Paul's station.

Both the ladies were charmed with the gentle simplicity and quaintness of the crippled lad, and he thought he had never been so happy as in acting the part of host to this underground picnic party. He showed them all the strange and beautiful pictures on the walls of the gangway, and Derrick managed to break off for them a couple of thin scales of slate on which were impressed the delicate outlines of fern leaves.

Mrs. Halford sat in Paul's arm-chair, and he made a bench of the tally-board for Miss Nellie. The two boys were content to sit on the railway track, and each ate out of his or her own lunch-pail.

All at once Paul said, "'Sh! There they are! See!"

At this the visitors looked in the direction indicated, and both screamed.

"Oh, you've frightened them away!" said Paul, regretfully.

"Why, I do believe they were rats!" cried Mrs. Halford, in a tone of great surprise.

"Of course they were," answered Paul—"my rat Socrates and Mrs. Socrates and a whole lot of little Soc rats. I meant to tell you, Derrick; he brought them out this morning, his wife and a family of such cunning little fellows."

When the ladies had heard the whole story of Socrates the rat, and how wise he was, they became greatly interested, and wished he would appear again.

"He will," said Paul, "if we only keep quiet. He's too wise to stay away at lunch-time, but he don't like loud talking."

So they all kept very quiet, and sure enough the rat did come back after a little while, and sitting upon his hind-legs, gravely surveyed the party. In the gloom behind him could be seen the shining beady eyes of some members of his family, who made comical attempts to sit up as he did.

Being duly fed, they all scampered away with squeaks of thanks, and soon afterwards Harry Mule broke up the picnic by coming jingling back from his stable, to which he had been sent for dinner.

"I think he is just the very dearest old mule I ever saw," said Miss Nellie, when they were once more seated in the car, and Harry, was taking them towards a distant heading.

"Yes, indeed, he is," answered Derrick, proud to hear his mule thus praised; "and I love him as much as—as he loves me," he finished, with a laugh.

They spent several hours in visiting different parts of the mine, and becoming acquainted with all the details of its many operations. At the end of one heading they found the miners who had just finished drilling a hole deep in the wall of coal beyond them, and were about to fire a blast. The visitors were intensely interested in watching their operations. First a cartridge of stiff brown paper and powder was made. The paper was rolled into the shape of a long cylinder, about as big round as a broom-handle, the end of a fuse was inserted in the powder with which it was filled, and the cartridge was thrust into the hole just prepared for it. Then it was tamped with clay, the fuse was lighted, the miners uttered loud cries of "Blast ho!" and everybody ran away to a safe distance.

In less than a minute came a dull roar that echoed and re-echoed through the long galleries. It was followed by a great upheaval of coal, a dense cloud of smoke, and the blast was safely over.

These miners had a loaded car ready to be hauled away. One of them asked Derrick if he would mind hitching it on behind his empty car, and drawing it to the junction, adding that the boy who had taken his place that day was too slow to live.

"All right," said Derrick. "I guess we can take it for you."

So, with two cars instead of one to pull, Harry Mule was started towards the junction. On the way they had to pass through a door in charge of a boy who had only come into the mine that day. This door opened towards them, and they approached it on a slightly descending grade.

As they drew near to it, with Harry Mule trotting briskly along, Derrick shouted, "Door!"

Again he shouted, louder than before, "Door! door! Holloa there! what's the matter?"

The little door-tender, unaccustomed to the utter silence and solitude of the situation, sat fast asleep in his chair. At last Derrick's frantic shoutings roused him, and he sprang to his feet, but too late. A crash, a wild cry, and poor Harry Mule lay on the floor of the gangway, crushed between the heavy cars and the solid, immovable door!

CHAPTER XIV

A LIFE IS SAVED AND DERRICK IS PROMOTED

Mrs. Halford and her daughter were flung rudely forward to the end of the car by the shock of the collision, and were, of course, badly frightened, as well as considerably shaken up and somewhat bruised. They were not seriously hurt, however, and with Derrick's assistance they got out of the car and stood on the door-tender's platform.

Derrick sent the boy who had been so sleepy, but who was now wide-awake and crying with fright, back to ask the miners they had just left to come to their assistance. Then he turned his attention to Harry Mule. The poor beast was not dead, but was evidently badly injured. He was jammed so tightly between the cars and the door that he could not move, and the light of Derrick's lamp disclosed several ugly-looking cuts in his body, from which blood was flowing freely.

The tears streamed down the boy's face as he witnessed the suffering of his dumb friend, and realized how powerless he was to do anything to relieve it. He was not a bit ashamed of these signs of grief when he felt a light touch on his arm, and turning, saw Nellie Halford, with eyes also full of tears, standing beside him, and gazing pityingly at the mule.

"Will he die, do you think?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I'm afraid so, or that he's too badly hurt to be made well again, and so will have to be killed."

"No, he sha'n't be killed. My uncle sha'n't let him. If he does, I'll never love him again!" exclaimed Miss Nellie, with determined energy. "Poor old mule! poor Harry! you shall have everything in the world done for you if you only won't die," she added, stooping and patting the animal's head with her soft hand.

Feebly lifting his head and pricking forward his great ears, Harry Mule opened his eyes, and looked at the girl for a moment so earnestly that she almost thought he was going to speak to her. Then the big, wondering eyes were closed again, and the shaggy head sank on the wet roadway, but Nellie felt that she had been thanked for her pitying words and gentle touch.

After a while the little door-tender came hurrying back, followed by the men for whom he had been sent. They were much excited over the accident, on account of the character of the visitors who had been sufferers from it, and were inclined to use very harsh language towards the boy whose neglect of duty had caused it. This, however, was prevented by Mrs. Halford, who declared she would not have the little fellow abused. She said it was a burning shame that children of his age were allowed in the mines at all, and it was no wonder they went to sleep, after sitting all alone for hours without anything to occupy their thoughts, in that awful darkness and silence.

The loaded car proved so heavy that it had to be unloaded before it could be moved. Then the empty car was pushed back from Harry Mule, and he made a frantic struggle to regain his feet. After several unsuccessful attempts he finally succeeded, and stood trembling in the roadway. It was now seen that he had the use of only three legs, and an examination showed his right fore-leg to be broken.

"He'll never do no more work in this mine," said one of the men. "The poor beast will have to be killed."

"He sha'n't be killed! He sha'n't, I say. We won't have him killed; will we, mother?" cried Nellie Halford, her voice trembling with emotion.

"No, dear, not if anything we can do will prevent it," answered the mother, gently.

"Don't you think," continued the girl, turning to Derrick, "that he might be mended if anybody would take the time and trouble?"

"Yes, I think he might, because there is a mule at work in the mine now that had a broken leg, and they cured him. He was a young mule, though. I'm afraid they won't bother with one so old as Harry."

"He's listening to every word we say," interrupted the girl, "and I do believe he understands too. Just look at him!"

The wounded mule was standing in a dejected attitude on the very spot where he had been so badly hurt; but his patient face, with its big eyes, was turned inquiringly towards them, and it did seem as though he were listening anxiously to the conversation about himself.

He managed to limp a few steps away from the door, so that it could be opened, and was then left in charge of the little door-tender, who was instructed to keep him as still as possible.

After the miners had given the empty car a start, Derrick found that he could keep it in motion, and undertook to push it as far as the junction, Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie following on foot. The two miners remained upon the scene of the accident to refill the car they had been compelled to unload.

The ladies and Derrick had gone but a short distance when they heard, faintly, through the closed door behind them, a plaintive "Haw, he-haw, he-haw, he-haw."

As Nellie Halford said, it sounded exactly as though poor dear old Harry Mule were begging them not to leave him.

They had nearly reached the junction when a cheery voice rang out of the gloom ahead of them, saying,

"Holloa there! where's your mule? and where's your light? You wouldn't run over a stranger, would you?"

"I'm the mule," replied Derrick, as, panting and perspiring with his exertions, he looked around a rear corner of the car to see who was coming.

"Why, Derrick, is that you?" inquired the voice, in a tone of great surprise. "What has happened? where are the ladies?"

"Oh, Warren!" exclaimed Mrs. Halford, from somewhere back in the darkness, "I'm so thankful to see—I mean to hear—you. Here we are."

"But I don't understand," said Mr. Jones, for it was he who had so unexpectedly come to their assistance. "What is the meaning of all this? Where's the bumping-mule?"