CHAPTER XV
BORNE SKYWARD ON A SKIP
"He's gone through the hole! Call the captain! Where is he?"
"I saw him on the sub-level above a minute ago," cried a brakeman,running up the ladder to summon the mine captain.
The latter was on hand, it seemed less than a minute later, and behindhim came Bob Jarvis.
"What is it?" shouted the captain before he had reached the scene.
"Tally-man and dumper gone down through the hole there."
The captain started in amazement.
"How did it happen?" he demanded excitedly.
"I don't know. He just went through, that's all."
"Who--who was it?" stammered Bob.
"Steve Rush."
Jarvis uttered a half articulate cry and began to let himself down intothe opening. The mine captain grabbed him.
"You'll be killed," he said sternly, dragging the lad back to theplatform. "You cannot help your friend by going through that way."
The captain opened the door leading into the skip shaft and ran down theladder. His quick glance took in the broken-down supports, but what hedid not see was that the planking beneath the post had been sawed partway through. There was no planking there to see.
There were no signs of Steve on the platform below. The captain hurriedback.
"Jarvis, run to the telephone on this level, and tell each level belowto look for the body of a man who fell through the shaft."
Bob started on a run. Despite his pluck, Bob Jarvis was trembling fromhead to foot.
"He's dead, he's dead! _They've_ done it. But how? No, it is impossible.They couldn't be to blame for that. It was an accident."
Word came back that there was no one in the shaft.
"Who opened the hole?" asked Bob.
"It is an old trap that has been closed for years. It simply caved in,that's all. Order the timber-men to put in a new piece and some freshsupports. Telephone to the top and find out if they have heard anythingthere."
No one seemed really to know what to do. All believed that Steve Rushhad been dashed to death.
"Did--did he fall on a skip?" asked Bob in a trembling voice.
"I am afraid that is what has happened," replied the mine captain. "I amwaiting to hear from the surface and if they have seen nothing of thebody, we will examine the shaft all the way up."
Bob groaned and, walking over, leaned heavily against the partition.
Steve's fall had been so sudden that he had no time even to utter a cry.The blow that he had given the catch on the tram car had been too muchfor the sawed support under the old trap. The support had collapsedunder his weight and Rush had dropped through the opening.
He shot down feet first to the platform below, bounded off and droppedinto the shaft itself.
Something caught and lifted him through the air at a frightful rate ofspeed. Steve had been caught by the ore skip, and was being borne to thesurface nearly two thousand feet above. The lad had by this time lostconsciousness, for the shock when the skip caught him had been a heavyone. It seemed as if it must have broken every bone in his body.
On roared the skip with its human burden. The car shot out into thedaylight, then darted up the fifty-foot shaft that towered above theopening to the mine.
Reaching the top, its burden of ore was dumped into a waiting tram caron the trestle, after which the skip dived down into the depths again.
The dump-man on the trestle caught sight of something that was not orefalling into his car. Instead of starting the car along the trestle, hesprang up on the side board.
"I wonder what that was? It looked like a human being!" he exclaimed.Then his eyes caught sight of a piece of clothing. The man tugged at thecloth, but it did not give way.
"It's a man!" he shouted, clambering over on the car and beginning todig frantically with his hands. "Stop the skips, _stop_ them quick!"
But his warning came too late. A skip load of ore was dumped down on theloaded car, most of it sliding off to the ground fifty feet below.Enough remained, however, to bury the dump-man and the man he was tryingto drag out.
But the dump-man was full of grit. He fought desperately and in a momentsucceeded in pushing off the ore that held the body down. He was nowworking with frantic haste to get the other man out, knowing full wellthat the unfortunate one would be suffocated if he already were notdead.
By this time other men, attracted by the dump-man's cries, were scalingthe trestle at a dozen different places. Among them was thesuperintendent himself, who, on his way to the dry house to put on hisminer's suit preparatory to going below ground on his usual daily round,had heard the cry for help up on the trestle. The superintendent,despite his size, got to the top of the trestle ahead of any of theothers and started on a run for the scene.
"What's the trouble, Collins?" he shouted.
"Man thrown up on the skip, sir."
"Is he dead?"
"I can't say, sir. I think most likely he is."
"Who is it?"
"Don't know him, but he's a young 'un. He's pretty badly banged up, sofar as I can see."
Superintendent Penton threw himself to the top of the ore car andassisted in getting the man out. At first he did not recognize the limpfigure as being that of Steve Rush, for the red ore had been ground intothe cut and bleeding face of the lad until he was almost unrecognizable.
"Send for the stretchers. This man must be gotten to the hospital on thejump!" shouted the superintendent.
The dump-man had lifted the boy from the car, had laid him down on thetrestle and with his handkerchief was wiping the dark-red ore from thelad's mouth, eyes and nose.
"He's alive, sir," called Collins. "But I reckon he won't be for verylong."
Mr. Penton stepped over, after giving his orders, and looked keenly downinto the pale face before him.
"What!" he exclaimed, bending close to the injured boy. "Good heavens,it's Steve Rush! This is too bad. How did it happen?"
"I don't know, sir. The first I knew about it he came out of the hopperkerflop. I jumped up to dig him out, and then I went kerflop with a loadof ore on my back. Woof! It's lucky for me the car was full or I'd havebeen at the bottom of the heap."
Mr. Penton had picked Steve up in his arms. The burden seemed as nothingto this powerful man. And even when he reached the ladder leading downto the ground the superintendent appeared to experience no difficulty inmaking his way down with the heavy load he was carrying.
Steve was rushed to the hospital, followed by the superintendenthimself. The lad was still unconscious. A hasty examination by thesurgeon was made in the presence of the superintendent.
"Well?" Mr. Penton threw a world of meaning into the word.
"No bones are broken. There may be some internal injury. I should judgethere might be, from the fact that he is bleeding at the mouth. Whathappened?"
"He was thrown up by the skip. That's all I know about it now. I want toknow whether or not the boy is going to die. Then I will find out how ithappened."
After working over the unconscious boy for half an hour, the surgeondecided that there had been a severe concussion that might amount to afracture. A few hours, he said, would tell the story.
"I'll be back within the hour. Let no efforts be spared to straightenthe lad out, if it be possible."
Steve lay limp and pallid, his face almost as white as the sheets of thecot on which he had been placed, and there was a troubled look in theeyes of the big-hearted superintendent as he left the company's hospitaland hurried to the shaft.
"Let me off at the seventeenth level," he directed, taking his place inthe cage. A few minutes later found him at the chutes where the accidenthad occurred. Bob, pale-faced and anxious, had been placed at thetally-board and the work of the mine was going on much as usual.
"Please, Mr. Penton, is Steve badly hurt?" demanded the lad, runningover to the superintendent the instant he saw him approaching.
"I fear he is, my boy. How did the accident occur?
"
"We hear he was carried up on the skip and dropped on the trestle."
"I mean what happened here?"
"The boy fell through the old trap there," explained the mine captain,approaching at that moment.
"Fell through the trap?" demanded Mr. Penton in surprise.
"Yes, the old trap that was closed several years ago. The men are fixingit so a similar accident won't occur again."
"Tell me exactly what happened."
"I didn't see it. The motor-man there can tell you. He is just coming innow."
The motor-man explained that young Rush was hammering at the dump-carcatch when the trap gave way beneath him and he went down. That was allthat anyone below ground knew about the accident. In fact, that was allthere was to tell so far as any one in the mine knew.
Mr. Penton looked grave. It was an accident that reflected on him, forthe corporation looked to him to make the mine safe. He was greatlydisturbed, but more on Steve's account than on his own.
The superintendent climbed down into the skip shaft and made anexamination on his own account.
"Where are the supports that held up the trap?" he demanded upon hisreturn to the platform.
"If they ain't there we must have thrown them into the shaft," explainedthe timber-man.
"You should have known better than that. Was it a break?"
"It was a break, all right. The thing just gave out, and that's allthere was to it. But you can bet this one won't give way, not in athousand years. It'll be here long after the old mine has caved in."
Mr. Penton did not go on with his inspection of the mine that day. Hewas too full of anxiety for Steve Rush. Bob had begged to be let off forthe afternoon, and Mr. Penton had willingly granted his request. The ladhurried to the hospital, after having changed his clothes, and at hisearnest request he was allowed to sit beside Steve. The boy couldscarcely keep the tears back as he gazed down into the pale face of hiscompanion. Bob was sure in his own mind that Steve was dying and Jarvis'eyes were large and sorrowful as he watched the surgeon working over theunconscious patient.
Mr. Penton came, remained a short time, then went away; he, too,convinced that Rush could not recover. Night came on, but still Bob satbeside the hospital cot, one hand slipped under the sheet clasping ahand of his companion.
"You had better go home," said the surgeon, seeming for the first timeto be aware of Jarvis' presence.
Bob did not answer.
"I said, you had better go home, Jarvis."
"I want to stay," answered the boy simply.
"You can do him no good."
"When will he get better--or worse?"
"I do not look for any change before three o'clock in the morning orthereabouts, so you see it will be useless for you to remain."
"All right; I am not sleepy," and Bob turned his face toward the cot,again fixing his gaze on the face of the unconscious Steve.
The surgeon shrugged his shoulders and proceeded with his duties. Thehours dragged along, but Bob never changed his position nor even moved,so fearful was he of doing something that might retard his friend'srecovery. Three o'clock came and still there was no change. Another halfhour elapsed. The sky was graying in the east. Steve uttered a low moan.The surgeon was at his side in an instant. He placed an ear to the boy'sheart, then took his pulse, watch in hand. Bob's eyes were fixed on thesurgeon now. The latter shut his watch with a snap, then noting thepleading question in the watcher's eyes, he nodded.
"He is better. The change is coming, and unless something unlooked foroccurs he should return to consciousness soon."
Bob drew a short, quick breath that was half a sob, settling down intohis former watchful position.
Now the surgeon remained by the side of the cot. Occasionally he wouldadminister a few drops of medicine. When the patient choked a little andswallowed, the surgeon would nod approvingly.
All at once Steve Rush's eyelids fluttered open. His gaze was fixed fora brief instant on the face of his companion. Jarvis held his breath.
"Bob," murmured the lad, then closed his eyes wearily.