uld get the men to believe a little more in me," he said, as
they went plashing along through the dark passages of the muddy pit,
past places where the black roof was supported by stays, some of which
were seamed and charred by explosions and fires in the mine.

"Ay, lad, they're a bit obstnit," said the old miner; "they don't like
interference."

"No," said Philip rather bitterly, "not even when I am working to save
their lives."

"Nay, lad; but that's what they don't believe. Yo' mun go on wi' 'em
more gently. But what brought you down to-neet?"

"There was a fall in the barometer, and a great want of pressure in the
atmosphere this evening," said Philip. "I could not rest without coming
to see that everything possible was done."

"Ah," said the overman grimly, "that's what our lads weant believe in--
your brometers, and pressures, and such like. They don't like to be
teached by one who they say's nobbut a boy."

"Does it matter how many years old a person is," cried Philip sternly,
"if he can point out what is right? Look here," he said, as he stopped
short in a low-roofed and distant part of the mine, "do you see this?"

He pointed to his Davy-lamp, inside of which the light kept burning
blue, and there was a series of little sputtering explosions.

"Ay, I see it, lad; it's often so," said the overman coolly; "but the
ventilation's about reet, and it will soon carry that off. It's nowt to
do wi' no brometers."

"Listen!" said Philip; and as the man impatiently stood still, there was
a low dull hissing noise plainly to be heard, where the gas was rushing
from the cracks and fissures of the shaley rock and gathering in the
long galleries of the mine.

"Now," said Philip, "does not the barometer speak truly? When the air
is weighty and dense it keeps back the gas, when it is light the gas
forces its way out. What would be the consequences if I were to open
our lamp?"

"There wouldn't be no consekences," said the overman with a grim laugh;
"there'd be a inquest, if they had pluck enough to come and hunt out
what of us was left."

In spite of himself, Philip could not help a shudder, as he listened to
the cynical, callous manner in which his companion spoke of their
proximity to a dreadful death. Then, bidding him follow, he went on
along the gloomy maze towards where he could hear the rumble of trucks
laden with coal, the sound of the ringing picks, the echoing shouts of
the men, and the impatien