as well as one of canaries."

"With the same idea?" queried Anton.

"Exactly. As little as a tenth of one per cent. of stink damp makes a mouse sprawl on his belly, his legs don't seem strong enough to hold him up; while, in the same air, a canary doesn't suffer a bit.

"The only real danger in stink damp is when there's water in the mine, for example when, after a fire, a lot of water has been pumped down into the workings to put the fire out. Water absorbs stink damp very easily and gives it up equally easily when stirred. So, if a member of a rescue party puts his foot in a puddle of water where there has been stink damp around, so much of the gas may suddenly come up in his face as to topple him over.

"But you can see, Anton, that most of the gas troubles in a mine come from the blasting. That's why, nowadays, the miners who get out the coal seldom or never fire the shots. Experienced men, trained especially for that work, are used. After a miner has undercut the coal, the shot-firer comes. He tests for gas before he begins work, bores a deep hole in the coal with a drill, tests for gas again in case he should have tapped a leak in the seam, cleans out the hole, sends the miner for the box of explosive—which is kept thirty or forty yards away from the face where the coal is being cut—and prepares the charge with a detonater which he carries in a box over his shoulder. The miner never touches either the explosive or the detonater. Then the shot-firer puts the primed charge in the hole, jams the hole full of clay with a wooden tamper—a steel bar might cause a spark and a premature explosion—tests for gas again, connects the electric wires from a portable battery around the rib corner, fires the shot, returns to the face and tests for gas again. Then, and not until then, does the miner begin to dig the coal. That way, every one in the mine is safe."

"Yes," growled the old miner, "and the shot-firer doesn't dig any coal, nor do any hard work, an' gets paid more'n we do."

"He knows more than you do," Clem responded, "and he gets better pay because his experience and prudence is worth a lot of money to the mine. Just think what an explosion costs—to say nothing of the risk of lives being lost! And you won't find experienced shot-firers or mine-managers talking about gas sprites, Otto!"

"Better for 'em if they did!" the old man warned. "For I'm sayin' to you again, what I said before—the spirits o' the mine is gettin' hungry for blood!"

CHAPTER II
ENTOMBED ALIVE

"Danger! You're plumb crazy about danger, Clem!" Anton declared impatiently.

The older lad gestured to the big building of the pit-mouth before them, above which the spider-like legs of the headgear soared high, surmounted by the huge double winding-wheels which give so characteristic a note to a modern colliery.

"Any one who forgets that a coal-mine is dangerous is a fool," he retorted sharply, "and keep that in your head, Anton, my lad. Not that danger would ever stop me from mining. I like it. I like to feel that I'm running a risk every time I go into an entry and every time there's a blast. And I like to feel that I know enough about safety methods to snap my fingers at the risk. There's excitement in that."

"There'll be excitement enough, if old Otto's warnings come true," returned Anton gloomily.

Two days had passed since the old miner's prophecy, two days without any unusual incident. Clem had all but forgotten the evil presage, but Anton was brooding over it. It was his work to load cars in the room where Clem was mining, and the boy's superstitious nature made him painfully aware that if any accident happened to his comrade, he would probably be caught, too.

Anton had been working in the mine only a few weeks and he had not yet been able to grasp the need of Clem's incessant teaching with regard to the extreme prudence needed in colliery work. He had almost caused a serious accident during his first week by not blocking his car properly. The half-loaded car had begun to move down the slope of the mine gallery, it might easily have run clear down into the entry and possibly killed some one if Clem had not dashed forward and checked the car before it had too much speed.

In general, Anton had not reasoned much about the danger or the lack of danger in coal-mining. He regarded the pit as a matter of course. It was the only life he knew. All his comrades were at work in the mine or would be at work therein, as soon as their school-days were over. The boy himself had started early, soon after his father's death, since it was the only employment to be got in the neighborhood and he had his widowed mother to support.

Clem had found a place in the mine for his friend without any difficulty, for Anton was powerfully muscled. In this he took after his father, who had been almost a Hercules and one of the champion wrestlers of the mine. Born of miner stock on both sides, Anton was short and squat, able to shovel coal all day without fatigue. He had accordingly, been taken on as a loader, Clem undertaking to keep an eye over him.

It took the older lad all his time to do so. Anton was absolutely reckless by nature, and, though he was constantly being advised as to the necessary precautions for making mining safe, he could never be persuaded to adopt them.

Instead of blocking his car with one log placed across the track and another under the car and resting on the transverse log, he would put a piece of coal under the wheel and trust to its staying there; he would wear his coat loosely, over his trousers, though he was told over and over again that he ran the risk of his coat being caught by the cars, when switching, and being dragged along the side of the rib: on another occasion, Clem found the boy starting along the haulage-way used for the coal cars instead of using the man-way reserved for the workers, in order to save a couple of minutes' time.

What exasperated Clem even more was that, since Otto's warning, Anton had become more careless than ever. It was evident that the fatalistic streak in the boy made him feel that if he were foredoomed to an accident, there was no use in trying to prevent it.

The boy's impatient exclamation and his comrade's retort about danger had occurred while they were in line in front of the lamp shack, waiting to get their safety-lamps before going down for the day shift.

As in most well-organized collieries, the safety-lamps were filled and adjusted by experts, who looked after nothing else. After the lamps were lighted, they were locked—and not one of the miners was allowed a key. Thus the lamps could not be opened below ground and there was no chance for a reckless man to expose a naked flame in a room or entry where there might chance to be gas. A safety-lamp would not go out unless the air in the mine was so vitiated that it was dangerous to life to remain therein, or unless there was some defect in the lamp which would render it perilous to use.

After the lamps had been given out, Clem and Anton got in the cage to go down the shaft. Otto happened to be descending at the same time.

"We're still waiting for your 'knockers' to show themselves!" Clem suggested jestingly.

The old man deigned no reply. Instead, he looked round the cage meaningly at the other men there, most of whom frowned at Clem's remark. Among miners, it is believed to bring bad luck to speak or even to hint of accidents when in the cage. Only Otto's personal liking for the young fellow