by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER V
THE TREFETHENS
As Peveril walked with his newly made acquaintance through the briskmining-town, of whose very name he had been ignorant until that day,Mark Trefethen directed his attention to its various places andobjects of interest. Of one small but handsome stone building,surrounded by grass and shade-trees, he said:
"There's where the swells get's their beer."
Peveril instantly knew it for a club-house, and, with a pang of regretfor the lost comforts of such an establishment, glanced enviously atits cosey interior, disclosed through open windows.
At length they reached the modest cottage, built on the plan of ahundred others, that Mark Trefethen rented from the company and calledhis home. The room into which Peveril was ushered was scrupulouslyclean and neat, but seemed to him painfully bare and cheerless. It waslighted by a single, unshaded lamp, that stood in the middle of anoilcloth-covered table laid for supper. Half a dozen cheap woodenchairs and a sewing-machine of inferior grade completed itsfurnishing. The new-comer had only time for a single glance at thesethings as he entered the door, before his recent acquaintance of thetrain, who now seemed almost like an old friend, sprang forward withoutstretched hand, exclaiming:
"I'm so glad you've come, for I was afraid father might not find you,or you might get tired of waiting, or that something might havehappened to take you some other place. I would have gone back myself,only father wouldn't have it that way, and claimed 'twas his place tofetch you."
"Surely, son; and why not? Could I do less than give the first welcometo one who has done for us what Mr. Peril has? Mother, take a step andshake hands wi' him who saved our boy to us this day. I couldn'tbelieve it till I seen him hit 'Blacky' such a blow as but one otherin all Red Jacket has ever struck. What do you think of oneninety-five for a record?"
"Oh, father! you surely didn't take him--"
But Tom's words were lost in the heartfelt though somewhat tryinggreeting that Peveril was at that moment receiving from Mrs.Trefethen. She was a large woman, whose ample form was unconfined bystay or lace, and with whom to "take a step" was evidently anexertion. That she was also of an emotional nature was shown by thetears that rolled in little well-defined channels down her cheeks asshe made an elephantine courtesy before her guest.
"Mister Peril, sir," she said, in a voice that seemed to bubble upthrough an overflow of tears, "may you never hexperience the feelinksof a mother, more especial the mother of a honly son, which 'arrowingis no name for them. As I were saying to Miss Penny this very day--atrue lady, sir, if there is one in hall Red Jacket, and wife of No. 2,timber boss, my Mark being the same in No. 3--Miss Penny, sez I--but,laws! what's the use of telling sich things to a mere man? as Ifrequent sez to my Mark and my Tom, which he hain't no more'n a boywhen all's said and done, if he does claim to vote, and halways on theside of 'is father, when, if wimmen had the privilege--as Miss Penny,who is a geniwine lady, and by no means a woman-sufferer, has frequentsaid to me, that it's a burning shame they shouldn't--things would bemore naturally equalled up. Same time, young sir, seeing has 'owyou've come--"
"And is also nearly starved," interrupted Mark Trefethen. "Let's havesupper. You've done yourself proud, mother, and give Mr. Peril amaster-welcome; but eating before talking, say I, and so let us fallto."
Faint with hunger as he was, the guest needed no second invitation toseat himself at the homely but hospitable table, on which was placed agreat dish of corned beef and cabbage, another of potatoes, a wheatenloaf, and a pot of tea. Cups, plates, and saucers were of thickeststone-ware, knives and forks were of iron, and spoons were of pewter,but Peveril managed to make successful use of them all, and thoughbetraying a woful ignorance of the proper functions of a knife, atehis first working-man's meal with all of a working-man's appetite andhearty appreciation.
Mrs. Trefethen occupied a great rocking-chair at one end of thetable, surrounded by a group of clamorous little ones, into whose openmouths she dropped bits of food as though they were so many youngbirds in a nest, and kept up an unceasing flow of conversationregarding her friend Mrs. Penny, to which Peveril strove to pay politeattention.
From the opposite end her husband expatiated between mouthfuls uponthe fate that had overtaken 'Blacky' that evening, but Peveril was toohungry to talk, and so apparently was Tom. These four were waited onby a slim, rosy-cheeked lass, with demure expression but laughingeyes, to whom the guest had not been introduced, but who, from herlikeness to Tom, he rightly concluded must be his sister. She wasaddressed as "Nelly."
After supper the three men adjourned to a little front porch, whereMark Trefethen lighted a pipe and questioned Peveril concerning hisplans for the future. After listening attentively to all that hisguest chose to tell of himself, he said:
"It's plain, lad, thee's not been brought up to work, and knows noughtof mining; but thee's got head to learn and muscle to work with. So if'ee wants job thee shall have it, or Mark Trefethen 'll know why. NowI tell 'ee what. Bide along of us, and be certain of welcome. Taketo-morrow to look about, and by night I'll have news for you."
Gratefully accepting this invitation, the Oxford undergraduate sleptthat night in a tiny chamber of the Trefethen cottage, from which heshrewdly suspected Miss Nelly had been turned out to make room forhim.
The next day he went with his new-found friends to the mine, where, inthe "Dry," he saw the underground laborers change into theirred-stained working-suits. Then he watched them clamber, a dozen at atime, into the great ore-cages and disappear with startling suddennessdown the black shaft into unknown depths of darkness. After all weregone he spent some time in the "compressor-room" of the engine-housewith Tom, who was there on duty. The remainder of the day he passed inwandering among shaft-houses, rock-crushers, ore-cars, and shops,making close observations, asking questions, and gaining a deal ofinformation concerning the mining of copper.
That evening Mark Trefethen told him that he had made arrangements bywhich he could, if he chose, go to work in the mine the followingmorning. "Job's wi' timber gang, lad," he said, "in bottom level. It'shard work and little pay at first--only one twenty-five the day--butif 'ee's game for it, job's thine."
"I am game to try it, at any rate," replied the young man, gratefully,"and will also try my best to prevent you from being ashamed of me."
"No fear, lad. Only fear is I'll be proud of thee, and lat others seeit, which would be very bad indeed. Now, I'll bate 'ee hasn't rag ofclothing fit for mine work."
"I have only what I am wearing," answered Peveril, who had left histrunks in Hancock, "but I guess they will do until I can earn themoney to buy others more suitable."
PEVERIL GOES TO WORK]
"Do, lad! They'd be ruined forever in first five minutes. Besides,thee'd be laughing-stock of whole mine, if 'ee went down dressed likeJim Dandy. No, no; come along of me and I'll rig 'ee out proper."
So Peveril was taken to the company store, where, with Mark Trefethento vouch for him, he was allowed to purchase, on credit, twoblue-flannel shirts, a suit of brown canvas, a pair of heavy hobnailedshoes, two pairs of woollen socks, a hard, round-topped hat, adinner-pail, and a miner's lamp. As these things were, by order of thetimber boss, charged to "Dick Peril," that was the name under whichour young Oxonian began his new life and became known in the strangecommunity to which erratic fortune had led him.
On the following morning he sallied forth from the Trefethen cottagewith a tin dinner-pail on one arm, his working-suit under the other,and uncomfortably conscious that he was curiously regarded by everyperson whom he met on his way to the mine. As the "Dry" was alreadyovercrowded, he shared Tom's locker, and was grateful for theopportunity of changing his clothing in the comparative seclusion ofthe compressor-room rather than in company with the two hundred menwho thronged the steam-heated building devoted especially to thatpurpose.
Having assumed his new garments, and feeling very awkward in them,Peveril made his way to the shaft-mouth. There he was joined by MarkTrefethen, who reg
arded the change made in his protege's appearancewith approving eyes. Together, and in company with a stream of mentalking in a bewildering Babel of tongues, they climbed flight afterflight of wooden stairs to the uppermost floor of the tallshaft-house.
An empty cage that had just deposited its load of copper conglomeratewas again ready to descend into the black depths, and, hurryingPeveril forward, Mark Trefethen, with half a dozen other miners,entered it. An iron gate closed behind them and a gong clanged in theengine-house.
"Hold fast, lad, and remember there's no danger," was all that thetimber boss had time to say. Then the bottom seemed to drop out ofeverything, and Peveril, experiencing the sickening sensation ofhaving left his stomach at the top of the shaft, found himself rushingdownward with horrible velocity through utter blackness. Instinctivelyreaching out for something by which to hold on, he clutched arough-coated arm, but his grasp was rudely shaken off, and a gruffvoice bade him keep his hands to himself.
He could not frame an answer, for his brain was in a whirl, his earswere filled with a dull roaring, and a whistling rush of air caughtaway his breath. The motion of the cage was so smooth and noiselessthat after a while he could not tell whether it were going up or down,though it seemed to be doing both, as though poised on a giganticspring. At length faint glimmers of light began to flash past as itshot by the mouths of working levels, and finally it stopped with ajerk that threw its passengers into a confused huddle.
A gate was flung open, and as Peveril stumbled out of the cage he wasonly conscious of dancing lights, a crashing rumble of iron againstiron, and a medley of shouting voices. At the same time all thesesounds seemed far away and unreal.
