with torches?"

"Don't ask questions, sirrah."

"Very well, Master Mark," said the boy, so meekly that his young master
was touched, and said gently:

"Look here, Dummy, can I trust you?"

"I dunno, Master Mark. I'll do what you tell me."

"That's right. Will you fight?"

The boy's eyes flashed in the candle-light, down in the grim chamber
were they stood.

"Torches--fight," he whispered. "Are you going to tackle the Darleys?"

"No; the robbers."

"T'other's best; and they're robbers too. But them'll do. Want me to
come and help fight them?"

"Yes; will you?"

"Will I?" said the boy, showing his teeth. "I'll follow you anywhere,
Master Mark."

"Well, I want to follow you now. Take me to your father, and--not a
word to a soul."

Dummy slapped his mouth, and shut it close; then going to a niche in the
rock, he pointed to a box of candles, and a much bigger one, which he
opened and showed to be quite full of long sticks of hempen tow soaked
in pitch, one of which he took out, and gave to Mark, and took one
himself, lit it, and then led the way down, and in and out among the
darkest recesses of the mine.

"Smoky," said Dummy, giving his torch a wave, and sending the black
curls of fume eddying upward, to hang along the stone ceiling. Then he
uttered an angry cry.

"What's the matter?"

"Hot pitch, Master Mark. Big drop splathered on to my hand."

In due time the place where Dan Rugg was working and directing the men,
chipping out the rich lead ore, was reached, and he came out of the
murky place.

"Ah, Master Mark," he said. "You, Dummy, put your foot on that smoky
link. Want to smother us?"

"My fault, Dan," cried Mark. "Come here."

He communicated a part of the plan, and the miner's stern face began to
relax more and more, till he showed his yellow teeth in a pleasant grin,
and put his sharp pick under his arm, so as to indulge in a good rub of
his hands.

"The varmin!" he said. "The varmin! Time it were done, Master Mark.
Oh yes, I'll pick out some lads who owe 'em a grudge, same as I do. You
want eight of us? Me and seven more?"

"You and Dummy, and six more."

"Dummy! Tchah! He's no good."

Dummy silently dug his elbow into his master's ribs, but it was
unnecessary.

"I want you and Dummy, and six men," said Mark decisively.

"Oh, very well, sir; you're young master; but what you can see in that
boy I don't know. Nine on us," he continued thoughtfully. "Twelve o