eighbor was holding up a warning finger towards him, and saying,
"Sh--h!"

His own wife and two other women were bending over a bed in one corner,
and the children, whom he had never before known to be quiet when awake,
were standing or sitting silently in various frightened attitudes about
the room.

"Who is it?" he asked, hoarsely, with an attempt at a whisper.

"It's Bill," answered one of the women. "He's badly hurted, falling down
a shaft in the mine, and is like to die. They say Paul the cripple saved
him."

"Bill! my Bill! You're lying!" cried the miner, fiercely. "Bill came out
of de mine wid de day shift. I seen him."

Rough and cruel as he was, the man had, hidden somewhere in his being, a
deep-seated affection for his son Bill. Although he had never been heard
to speak other than harshly to him, Bill was the pride and joy of his
hard life. A blow aimed at Bill struck him with redoubled force. His
hatred of Derrick Sterling arose from the fact that the lad had thrashed
his boy. Now to tell him that his boy Bill was so badly hurt that he was
likely to die was like wrenching from him all that he held worth living
for.

The women made way for the rough miner as he strode to where his son lay
on a heap of soiled bedclothing, tossing and moaning, but unconscious,
and in a high fever. One look was enough, and then Monk Tooley left the
house, and set forth on a ten-mile walk through the night to fetch the
nearest doctor.

By sunrise the doctor had come and gone again, having done what he
could. He said the boy would live if he were kept quiet and had careful
nursing, but that he was injured in such a way that he might be lame for
the rest of his life.

When Monk Tooley went down into the mine that day--for he must now work
harder and more steadily than ever to support this added burden--he was
a silent, heart-broken man.

It was nearly noon before Derrick Sterling awoke after his first day of
bitter experience in the mine. Though he was still sore and lame, hot
water and sleep, two of nature's most powerful remedies in cases of his
kind, had worked such wonders for him that he felt quite ready to enter
the mine again, and face whatever new trials it might have in store for
him.

After dinner the mine boss came to see him, and was amazed to find him
looking so well and cheerful.

"You seem to come up smiling after every knock down, Derrick," he said.
"I shouldn't wonder if you would even be ready to go