ck-faced miner stood in the bucket, much in the attitude of a
jack-in-the-box after the spring is loosed.

"That's what we call the cross-head, above," explained Mr. Everett. "It
slides free on the rope, and rests on the fastening of the bucket. Now
you see how we bring up the ore."

"But do we have to go down in that thing?" inquired Charlie, drawing
back in disgust, as he surveyed the grimy, dusty bucket before him.

"Not unless you prefer it," Mr. Everett answered, laughing. "It's
against rules to ride in it; and anyway I usually go on the cross-head,
myself, for the bucket reminds me too much of Simple Simon. Step on
here," he added, as the crude elevator sank down until the upper beam
was on a level with the surface of the ground. "Now, if you just hold
on to the rope, you're all right. Let us go slowly, Joe," he went on, to
the waiting engineer; "I want to take a look at the shaft, as we go
down. We'll try the seven-hundred level to-day."

A moment later, they began to sink away from the light above them, while
the opening at the mouth of the shaft grew smaller and smaller to their
eyes, and their lamps only cast a sickly, uncertain light on the walls
beside them. They went down slowly, so slowly, that, as soon as he had
had time to accustom himself to the new sensation, Charlie had plenty of
opportunity to examine the walls. For the most part, they were roughly
cased with boards and surrounded at intervals by the massive
collar-timbers, projecting ten or twelve inches inside the boards. At
each side of the shaft were the heavy upright guides, running from top
to bottom and serving to keep in place the cross-head, which was fitted
to move easily between them. Down, down they went, for what seemed to
the boy a limitless distance. They had passed a great square chamber,
opening into along, lighted corridor which Mr. Everett had told him were
the station and cross-cut at the four-hundred level, and still they were
sinking. All at once they came to a sudden stop, and the next instant
Charlie felt the rope he was holding slowly drawing down through his
hands. Mr. Everett gave a quick exclamation.

"Let go the rope!" he commanded abruptly.

"I'm perfectly willing," answered Charlie, laughing, as he rubbed his
tingling palms. "What's up, anyway? We don't seem to be anywhere in
particular."

"We're caught a little," replied Mr. Everett quietly. "You needn't be
frightened, for it's happened before. All is, the cross