ry he kept
to himself as a precious secret bequeathed to him by his father, though
he had not the slightest idea that it would ever be of any practical
value to him.

After leaving Paul, Derrick hurried home to tell his mother the great
news that he was to work in the mine and earn five dollars a week, and
to show her his mine clothes. He was greatly disappointed that instead
of rejoicing over his brightening prospects she only gazed at him
without speaking, until the tears filled her eyes and rolled down her
pale cheeks.

"Why, mother," he said, "aren't you glad? Only think--five dollars a
week!"

"Oh, my boy, my boy," she exclaimed, drawing him to her, "I can't let
you go down into that horrible place! 'Twas there your father met his
death."

"Shall I go back to the breaker, then, mother?"

"No, no; I didn't mean what I said. God has delivered you from one
fearful peril, and he can guide you safely through all others. Yes, I am
glad, Derrick--glad of any step that you take forward; but oh, my boy,
be very careful wherever you go. Remember how precious your life is to
me."

Dressed in his new mine clothes, Derrick hurried through breakfast the
next morning, and started for the mouth of the slope bright and early.

On his way he met Bill Tooley, who stopped him by calling out, "Look
a-here, young feller. They say yer a-going down ter drive my mule."

"Didn't know you had a mule," answered Derrick, pleasantly.

"Well, I did have a mule; an' what's more, I'm going ter have him again.
Any feller that goes to driving him before I get back will be sorry he
ever done it, that's all. I don't care if he is the bosses' pet, and did
take a ride in a hand-car."

CHAPTER IV

INTRODUCING HARRY, THE BUMPING-MULE

As Derrick walked towards the entrance to the mine, he wondered what the
bully whom he had just met meant by what he said. He did not then know
that Bill Tooley had been discharged from the mine by Mr. Jones for
brutal treatment of the mule he had driven, and for general laziness and
neglect of his duties.

At the mouth of the "travelling-road," down which the early arrivals
were compelled to make their way into the mine, Derrick was greeted by a
little group of miners who were lighting their lamps and preparing to
descend.

"'Tis bonny to see thee, Derrick lad," called out one of them.

"'Twill be luck to the mine to have such as you in her," said another.

"My lad would ha' been your age an' h