THE MINE BOSS TAKES DERRICK INTO HIS CONFIDENCE
In a mining community serious accidents, and even terrible disasters,
are of such frequent occurrence that in Raven Brook the burning of the
old breaker soon ceased to furnish a topic of conversation.
It was not until the day after that of the fire that Derrick learned of
the presence of mind displayed by the old breaker boss in comprehending
his signal on the gong and setting the vertical switch for the dump. As
soon as the old man came home that evening, Derrick went to his room
prepared to pour out his heartfelt thanks. He had hardly begun when the
breaker boss interrupted him with,
"There, that'll do, an' I don't want to hear no more on it. Any fool
knows that two gongs means 'dump switch,' an' when one's been in the
mines forty year, man an' boy, as I have, he don't take no credit to
himself for doing fool's work. When you get older you'll know better'n
to mention sich a thing."
"But, Mr. Guffy--"
"That'll do, I tell ye!" roared the irascible old man. "Clear outen
here, and go over to Warren Jones's; he wants to see ye. Hold on!" he
added, as Derrick was about to leave the room. "On your way stop and
tell that hunchback butty[2] of yourn to be on hand in the new breaker
at sharp seven to-morrow morning, if he wants to keep his job. Do ye
hear?"
[Footnote 2: Butty is the word used by miners to denote helper or
partner.]
As he went out Derrick smiled to think of the old man's pride, which
would not allow him to accept thanks or praise from a boy for performing
a creditable action.
At the same time the breaker boss was muttering to himself, "He's a fine
lad. If he'd 'a' come to grief through any fault of mine I'd never got
over it. 'Twon't do, though, to let him see that I think more of him
than of any others of the young scoundrels. Boys allus gets so upperty
if they thinks you're a-favorin' of 'em. They must be kep' down! Yes,
sir! kep' down, boys must be."
Derrick could not help wondering why he too had not been ordered to
report at the new breaker the next morning, but thought it better not to
ask any questions. After supper he went over to see Mr. Jones, in
obedience to the instructions received from the breaker boss.
Warren Jones, the assistant superintendent, or, as he was generally
termed, the "mine boss," of the Raven Brook Colliery, was a
pleasant-faced, outspoken young man of about thirty. At present he was
acting as superintendent, and the burden of responsibility bore heavily
upon him. He had a host of warm friends, but had made some bitter
enemies among the miners by his direct honesty of purpose and
determination to deal out even-handed justice to all over whom he
exercised authority. Although generally good-natured and slow to find
fault, he could be quick and stern enough when occasion demanded.
Such was the man who greeted Derrick Sterling cordially that evening,
showed him into his library, and made him sit down, saying that he
wished to have a little talk with him. He spoke in terms of such praise
of Derrick's behavior on the previous day as to bring a blush of
pleasure to the boy's cheeks.
"By-the-way, Derrick," he asked, "how did the breaker catch fire?"
"I haven't the least idea, sir," answered Derrick, looking up in
surprise.
"Oh, all right," said the other, carelessly. "I didn't know but what you
might have heard something said about it."
"No, sir, I haven't; that is, not anything that I thought amounted to
anything. I have heard some of the boys talking about 'Mollies,' and
saying that they beat the world for floods and fires. What are 'Mollies'
anyway, Mr. Jones?"
The mine boss looked at him curiously for a moment before replying,
"If you really don't know, it's time you did, for you're likely to see
and hear a great deal of them if you decide to make mining your business
in life. All that I know about them is this:
"Many years ago a young woman named Mary, or Mollie Maguire, was
murdered in Ireland, and several young fellows belonging to an order
called 'Ribbonmen' bound themselves by an oath to avenge her death and
kill her murderer. They succeeded so well in this undertaking, and
escaped detection so easily, that they proceeded to redress other
wrongs, real and fancied. They were joined by other men of their own way
of thinking, and finally they became a widely spread and powerful
society. In course of time, whenever anybody was mysteriously killed in
Ireland, it came to be said that the Mollie Maguires had done it, and so
the name clung to them.
"At last the murderous order was introduced into this region by some
Irish miners who wished to get rid of an objectionable overseer, and
also to control the labor unions among the miners. It has so spread that
now its members are known to exist in every mining community of the
anthracite country. It is one of the most cowardly organizations ever
formed by men, and one of the most cruel. Its victims are given no
warning of the fate in store for them, but are struck down in the dark,
or from an ambush, by unseen hands.
"Often the murderer has no previous acquaintance with, or knowledge of,
the man whom he kills. He blindly obeys the command of his infernal
order, and is thus made a tool to avenge some petty grievance or fancied
injury.
"The Mollies have become a plague-spot that threatens the health and
life of this region. It is the duty of every honest man and boy who is
brought into any sort of contact with them to thwart their evil designs
in every possible way."
"Well," said Derrick, drawing a long breath, "I had no idea that there
were such wicked men in this country."
"No," he answered the mine boss, "you are but a boy, and have had but
little experience in the wickedness of this world; but I know you are
brave, and I believe you to be honest and loyal. I am therefore going to
trust you, and tell you something that I had no intention of mentioning
when I sent for you this evening. It is this:
"I have every reason to believe the Mollies are strong in this colliery,
and that they intend to make trouble here. I have lately received
several anonymous letters making demands that cannot possibly be
granted, and containing vague threats of what will happen in case they
are not satisfied. This morning I found this note pinned to my door."
Here Mr. Jones opened a drawer of his desk, and took from it a dirty
sheet of paper, which he handed to Derrick. On it was scrawled the
following:
"Bosses take Wornin'. New breakers can burn as well as old. Fires
cost munny. Better pay it in wage to
"MOLLIE."
As the boy finished reading this strange communication which was at the
same time an admission and a threat, he looked up in surprise and began,
"Then you think, sir--"
"Yes," interrupted the mine boss. "I not only think, but I feel
convinced, that the mischief has begun. Moreover, I am determined that
it shall end before it goes any further. I am most anxious to discover
who is at the bottom of it, and in this I want you to help me."
"Want _me_ to help!" exclaimed Derrick, in astonishment.
"Yes, you," answered Mr. Jones, smiling. "Your very youth and
inexperience will render you less likely to be suspected than an older
person. I am certain that I can count upon the son of my old friend
Gilbert Sterling to perform truly and faithfully any duty which his
employers may see fit to intrust him with. Is it not so, Derrick?"
"Yes, sir, it is," cried the boy. "Just tell me what you want me to do,
and if I don't succeed it won't be because I haven't tried my best."
"That is just what I expected you to say," remarked the mine boss,
quietly. "Now we will lay our first plans. I suppose you have had enough
of the breaker, haven't you?"
"Indeed I have, sir."
"Very well. For a change I am going to offer you a job in the mine where
I will give you a bumping-mule to drive. Your wages will be five dollars
a week."
"A bumping-mule?" queried Derrick, in a tone of perplexity not unmixed
with disappointment. From the preceding conversation he had expected to
be intrusted with something very different from mule-driving; nor had he
any idea what sort of an animal the one in question might be.
This time Mr. Jones not only smiled but laughed outright; for, from the
boy's face and tone, he easily understood what was passing in his mind.
"A bumping-mule," he explained, "is the animal that draws the loaded
coal-cars from the chambers, or breasts, to where they are made up into
trains. These trains are then hauled by a team of mules to the foot of
the slope. Then, when the empty cars are brought back, the bumping-mule
distributes them to the several places where they are required. I
suppose his title comes from his causing the cars to bump together as he
makes them up into trains. In attending to your duties as driver of this
most important mule, I can assure you that your time will be fully
occupied from the minute you go into the mine until you leave it.
"I suppose," he added, with a humorous twinkle in his eyes, "that our
conversation led you to think you were to be appointed 'air boss' of the
mine, or placed in charge of a gang at the very least?"
"No, sir," answered Derrick, a little hesitatingly; "I ain't quite such
a greeny as that. But I don't see how I can help you very much by just
driving a bumping-mule."
"You can help me in two ways: first, by doing your duty so faithfully
that I may be able to depend on you at all times; second, while I am in
doubt as to whom I may trust, it will be of great assistance to me to
know that there is at least one person constantly in the mine who will
be true to the interests of his employers, and on the alert to detect
any attempt to injure them."
"I hope you don't mean that I am to be a spy in the mine, sir?"
"No, my boy, I do not. I want you to attend strictly to your duties as
driver of a bumping-mule. At the same time I want you to consider that
your eyes and ears are acting in the place of my eyes and ears. If at
any time they see or hear anything which according to your best judgment
I ought to know, I hope you will be man enough to tell me of it."
"Well, sir," answered Derrick, "I am glad of a chance to go into the
mine and to earn five dollars a week. If you will let me do whatever I
think is right about telling you things without making any promises, I
will keep my eyes and ears wide open."
"That is all that I want you to do, my boy."
"All right, sir, then I'll do my best; and I hope I sha'n't have
anything to tell you except about the bumping-mule."
"So do I hope so with all my heart, Derrick," said the mine boss,
gravely; "for I am inclined to think that if you have anything else to
tell me it will be something very serious and unpleasant. Now you may
take this order for a pair of rubber boots and a miner's cap and lamp
over to the store and get the things. Be on hand to go down with the
first gang of the morning shift. You will find me in the mine, and I
will see that you are properly set to work. Good-night."
"Good-night," answered Derrick, as, with the store order in his hand,
and his mind full of conflicting emotions, he left the house.
Several miners of the day shift were in the store when Derrick went to
present his order. By questioning him as to what he wanted with mine
clothes, they soon learned that he was to begin life underground the
next day as driver of a bumping-mule.
"De young bantam'll find it a tougher job than riding empty cars down de
slope," sneered one big ugly-looking fellow, whose name was Monk Tooley,
and who was Bill Tooley's father.
"I reckon you've laid in a big supply of cuss-words as a stock in trade!
Eh, lad?" asked another.
"No, I haven't," said Derrick, flushing hotly. "I don't believe in
swearing, and if I can't drive a mule without it I won't drive him at
all."
"Then I reckon you'll hunt some other business putty quick," answered
the miner with a coarse laugh in which the others joined. "Mules won't
work without they hears the peculiar langwidge they's most fond of."
"Well," said Derrick, "we'll see." And leaving the store with his
purchases he started homeward. On the way he stopped to deliver Mr.
Guffy's message to Paul Evert, and to tell his friend the great news
that on the following day he was to begin the life of a miner.
"I wish I was going with you," said Paul.
"I wish you were, Polly," answered Derrick. "Perhaps there will be a
chance for you down there before long, and by that time I will have
learned all the ropes, and can tell you what's what."
Although Derrick had lived much among collieries, he had never been
allowed to go down into a mine. His parents had kept him as much as
possible from associating with the rough mine lads of the village. Thus,
until he went into the breaker to earn his own living, he had held but
slight intercourse with them. His friend Paul, being the son of a miner,
knew far more of underground life than he, and often smiled at his
ignorance of many of the commonest mine terms.
Derrick was a peculiar boy in one respect. He disliked to ask questions,
and would rather spend time and patience in finding out things for
himself, if it were possible for him to do so. What he thus learned he
never forgot.
He was thoroughly familiar with the surface workings of a colliery, and
could explain the construction of the great pumps that kept the mine
free from water, the huge, swiftly revolving fan that drew all foul air
from it, or any of its other machinery. His father's profession had long
seemed to him a most desirable one, and he spent much of his spare time
in studying such engineering books as still remained in the house. He
loved to pore over his father's tracings and maps of the old workings.
With these he had become so well acquainted that he believed he could
locate on the surface the exact spots beneath which ran the gangways,
headings, and breasts of the abandoned portions of the mine.
By means of these old maps he had also discovered on the mountain side,
more than a mile away, the mouth of a drift leading into a vein worked
out and abandoned more than twenty years before. This discovery he kept
to himself as a precious secret bequeathed to him by his father, though
he had not the slightest idea that it would ever be of any practical
value to him.
After leaving Paul, Derrick hurried home to tell his mother the great
news that he was to work in the mine and earn five dollars a week, and
to show her his mine clothes. He was greatly disappointed that instead
of rejoicing over his brightening prospects she only gazed at him
without speaking, until the tears filled her eyes and rolled down her
pale cheeks.
"Why, mother," he said, "aren't you glad? Only think--five dollars a
week!"
"Oh, my boy, my boy," she exclaimed, drawing him to her, "I can't let
you go down into that horrible place! 'Twas there your father met his
death."
"Shall I go back to the breaker, then, mother?"
"No, no; I didn't mean what I said. God has delivered you from one
fearful peril, and he can guide you safely through all others. Yes, I am
glad, Derrick--glad of any step that you take forward; but oh, my boy,
be very careful wherever you go. Remember how precious your life is to
me."
Dressed in his new mine clothes, Derrick hurried through breakfast the
next morning, and started for the mouth of the slope bright and early.
On his way he met Bill Tooley, who stopped him by calling out, "Look
a-here, young feller. They say yer a-going down ter drive my mule."
"Didn't know you had a mule," answered Derrick, pleasantly.
"Well, I did have a mule; an' what's more, I'm going ter have him again.
Any feller that goes to driving him before I get back will be sorry he
ever done it, that's all. I don't care if he is the bosses' pet, and did
take a ride in a hand-car."