"How's that drain in Number 11, Tom?"
Pelham admired his father's vigorous handling of the varying questions.
His own opinion was asked about one matter, as they inspected the
cut-ins of the ramp cleaving Crenshaw Hill. He backed up Hewin's
solution; the facile superintendent promptly flattered the young man's
grasp of the problem.
As they walked back to breakfast, Paul shared a further insight into the
human element of the work. "Yes, he's a good man to have there. He
directed one of the Birrell-Florence mines for two years; quit in some
row or other. He doesn't get along too well with his men. I don't trust
him; he'll pad the rolls, and undermark the weights, every chance you
give him. He'd steal from the niggers and miners, and from me as well,
if I'd let him. That's one of the reasons I'll be glad to have you on
the job.... He gets things done."
"What will I do, father?"
"You're to be his assistant; he'll keep you busy. Fifty a week, to begin
with. When you're worth more, we'll increase it."
Pelham's mind played around the conversation all during the trip to
Jackson that followed. It was not just what he had fancied, he told
himself, staring at the green hump-backed hills along the road. Why
should he not be head of the operations? But that could come; he must
show his worth first.
There was a persistent shock of disappointment in the amount he was to
receive. It was hardly respectable. His allowance since junior year had
been five thousand.... Well, he could make it do.
His self-complacency returned at the grandparents'. Jimmy, who had still
a year in law school, was dazzled by the Sheff product; Lil, who had
rounded into ample, magnolia-like beauty, capitulated devoutly. The old
people's loving pride warmed him; but its flavor cloyed. He was glad at
the end of the week to return his attention to the mountain.
Hewin found the boy quick at observation, and a good listener; the
contact evidently suited the Irishman immensely. Now was the chance, he
decided, to solidify himself with the Judsons. Pelham became familiar
with every detail of the work. He ended with a confused impression that
the bustling superintendent had either done every stroke with his own
battered hands, or had devised and inspired it.
"They're good workers," he concluded, marveling at the patent energy.
"They'd better be."
With such a spirit, anything was possible. It was only later that he
realized that this was surface activity; that the leisurely gait of
negroes and whites alike quickened only when the boss was in sight.
The first ramp lay to the north of the house, through what was still
called "Coaldale the Second;" the second, on the Logan land south of the
gap, was put into his especial care. He bent over blueprints and
calculations, verifying what had been planned. Careless bits of figuring
were corrected; he found one plot of openings contrary to all reason.
"Your number two will collide with the entry above, Mr. Hewin. Look--it
ought to be opposite five, here."
Tom studied the diagram from all angles, then laid it down. "Figurin'
ain't everything, Mr. Judson. You've got to know your ground. Bring
along them maps."
They mounted above the level where the negroes were timing their pick
strokes with a wailing improvised chant, reminiscent of cotton field
spirituals.
"See that flaw? All your figgers don't take no account of it. We cut in
below here, then bend in to the left. This way.... When I was with the
Birrell-Florence folks, we went right in under a flaw. The dam' timbers
slipped one day, an' we lost four mules, as well as half a dozen
niggers. You got to know your ground."
Pelham straightened the line a trifle, corrected the figures, and the
cutting went on. The third month showed a marked improvement over the
second.
Gradually he noticed that, while there was a great show of deep mining
with the first ramp and the delayed second one, the main vigor was bent
to the easier dislodging of the outcrop.
He studied the agreements, measured the cleared areas carefully, and
carried his discoveries to Paul.
The father took the matter up with Hewin. "How far have you gone to the
north, past the mouth of the ramp?"
"About four hundred feet, sir."
"Measure it."
The tape showed five hundred forty.
"By the agreement, you couldn't go beyond four hundred and twenty feet,
with eight ramp openings."
"Them damn' niggers must a moved the stob I put in. We won't go no
further."
The outcrop-scraping continued fifty feet, before another opening was
made.
World-unsettling events were happening, during the weeks when this minor
dispute disturbed the serenity of relations on the mountain between
owner and contractors. The same day that Pelham reported the repeated
trespass on the easy outcrop, the startled papers told of the vaster
trespass across the convenient miles of Belgium, which was bitterly
contesting the gray-green flood of alien soldiers. The father turned
from the headlines to discuss, with caustic vigor, the annoyance nearer
home.
"There's no way to stop it, Pelham. They'll rob the surface, no matter
what the contract reads. It's so much cheaper to get at ... lazy
scoundrels! It 'ud take six years in court to settle it. Meanwhile, the
mine would be locked up tighter than a barrel."
"You could get damages."
"Not a cent ... not solvent. Keep your eye on them; we'll play them
along. Bad as this war promises to be, somebody's liable to need our
iron. Prices must boost; the Hewin contract will hold our cost down. We
won't lose."
There were few minds in Adamsville, at this time, that saw even this
much connection between the remote struggle and placid home affairs.
In the spring, the third ramp was cut--half a mile to the north, beyond
the crest of Crenshaw Hill, through a row of trees called the Locust
Hedge. North of its base, on a wide bowl-like opening, the shacks and
stockades for certain convict miners were built. Paul's bid for two
hundred of the State long termers had been successful; these were
isolated near the extreme end of the Crenshaw property, and kept at the
deeper mining in the third series of entries.
Nearer Hillcrest, the underbrushed ridge at the foot of the higher peak
was cleared, and houses were built for workers who did not live in
Adamsville, or Lilydale, the negro settlement saddling the low Sand
Mountains. A prong of the mountain shielded the Judson home from this
shack town; otherwise the screams, shots, and general disorder around
pay days would have driven away the family. "Hewintown" was the
railroad's designation for the flag station below it; "Hewin's Hell
Hole" was its usual title.
Here Tom Hewin brought the three hundred miners from Pennsylvania, after
he had discharged several gangs who fretted under the talk of union
agitators.
Pelham helped erect the larger frame houses for the commissary, the
office, and the overseers' homes. Frequently he idled through the two
settlements, and tried in awkward fashion to understand the personal
side of the workers. They answered civilly questions about their work;
when he tried to go further, they drew back, surly and distrustful. He
could not understand this wall of reserve.
One weazened grouch, Hank Burns, who had been a miner for forty years,
tried to account for it. "Why should they trust you, Mr. Judson? They
know you think they're dogs."
"But I don't!"
"Ain't you the owner's son? And a superintendent to boot. What should
you have to do with such as us?"