t snort of some pony, toiling with its load up
an incline.

There was a quick sharp draught of air as they passed through a door
which was closed behind them by a boy, and, satisfied that the
ventilation was good, Philip Hexton and his companion went on.

Meanwhile Ebenezer Parks, the big miner who had been complaining when
the young man came up, kept on with his remarks as, in company with his
party, he made his way to the four-foot seam, as it was called--a part
of the mine where the good coal was but a yard in thickness, and at
which they had to work in a stooping, sometimes in a lying, position.

"She sings to-night, lad," said one of the men, as they stripped
themselves to their trousers, and then began to use their sharp-pointed
picks, their blackened skins soon beginning to glisten with perspiration
in the stifling heat.

"Hey, she do," said Ebenezer, giving a careless glance at his sputtering
lamp. "There's part gas in pit to-neet."

The dim sputtering lamps, and the warning hiss of the gas were forgotten
as the men worked on, showing wondrous skill in the handling of their
picks, and fetching out great lumps of coal with the greatest ease, in
spite of the awkward position in which they worked.

This went on for a couple of hours, when Ebenezer threw down his pick,
seated himself with his back against a pillar of coal, one of those left
to support the roof, and took from his trousers pocket a steel
tobacco-box, a black short pipe, and a nail.

"Who's going to hev a smoke?" he said.

"I wouldn't let young master ketch you smoking," said one of the men.

"He'd better not say owt to me," said the man fiercely. "I know what
I'm 'bout better than he can tell me;" and as he filled his pipe several
more laughed and filled theirs; while, looking like some black spirit of
mischief, the big miner took the gauze lamp from the roof where it hung.

"Now then, lads, who wants a leet?" he said; and, taking the nail, he
proceeded to pick the lock of the Davy-lamp, or rather unfasten it with
the improvised key.

There was a click as the little snap flew back; and then, placing his
pipe in his mouth, he proceeded to open the lamp.

This was about as wise an act as for a man to strike a match over an
open barrel full of glistening grains of gunpowder--perhaps far worse.

CHAPTER THREE.

MAKING AN ENEMY.

Even as the big miner had his hand upon the gauze cover of the Davy-lamp
there were tiny little explosio