or not; and if
you'd seen it, as we did, you couldn't forget it, even if you did keep
still," said Howard soberly; and Allie added,--

"Besides, maybe if we talk about it we can find out there's something to
do, to help out."

For an hour, the five young people, gathered in the Everetts' parlor,
had been telling over the details of the accident. As Ned had said, it
had been a long time since the Blue Creek had been visited by an
accident like those which so frequently occurred in the neighboring
mines, and this, killing, as it did, one of the oldest and best-known of
the miners, had created an intense excitement in the little town.
Immediately following the explosion, there had been put in circulation a
report of the accident so exaggerated that it had brought to the spot
the wives of half the miners in the camp, each one of whom was confident
that her husband was among the twenty or more men said to have been
killed. It had been this hasty gathering which had caught Grant's eye;
and the Everetts and Allie had hurried down into the town just in time
to learn the truth that but one man was killed, and to watch the excited
groups as they slowly dispersed, so noisy in their joy that their own
friends had escaped, that they forgot to give more than a passing
thought to poor, careless Mike, whose working days were ended. But that
came later; and among all his mourners there were none more sincere than
the little group at the Everetts', who knew and appreciated the real
worth of the jovial, brawny Irishman, whose pleasant word and helping
hand were extended to all with whom he ever came in contact. They were
still talking of him when the bell rang; and, a moment later, Wang Kum
ushered Dr. Brownlee into the parlor. At sight of him, Marjorie sprang
up impulsively.

"Oh, doctor, tell us about the poor boy! How is he?" she asked abruptly,
without waiting for any formal greeting.

"If you mean the one who was hurt at the mine this afternoon," the
doctor was beginning, when Ned hastily interposed,--

"Hold on a minute, Dr. Brownlee; but don't sit down in that chair.
There's something wrong about the stuff it's covered with; 'tisn't real
leather, and it melts and gets sticky in summer, or when there's a hot
fire. You'd better steer clear of it. We mean to keep it out of the
way."

"You might use it for a trap," suggested the doctor laughingly, as he
pushed aside the great easy-chair, and settled himself in a willow
rocker.