t his hairpin
at his ease, while he reflected upon the unsatisfactory nature of his
walk.

CHAPTER XI.

"SWEET CHARITY'S SAKE."

"You see," Howard was explaining to Ned, that evening, "he'd put in his
charge for the blast, and was tamping it down all right; but he kicked
over his drill, and the end fell on an extra package of giant powder."

"I know that," interrupted Ned. "Papa said he was outrageously careless,
to have any of the stuff lying around loose; and 'twas a wonder that
there weren't any more men near enough to be killed. Poor old Mike! He's
worked in the mine ever since 'twas first opened, and he was one of
their best men."

"I don't see how he came to be so careless, then," said Marjorie, wisely
shaking her head over the matter. "I should suppose he'd have known
better by this time."

"They do know better," said Ned thoughtfully; "only they get hardened to
the risk and don't think much about it, or else say their luck will hold
out. But Mike has the worst of it. Do you know, this is the first
accident in the Blue Creek I ever remember, and I used to see Mike 'most
every day, so I can't get to believe it a bit. It seems as if it
couldn't be true."

"Papa was all broken up to-night," added Grant. "He knows all the old
foremen, and Mike was the best one of them all."

"I believe I'd rather die 'most any way than be blown up," said Allie,
with a shudder. "It must be so hard for his family. But didn't you say
somebody else was hurt, Howard?"

"Just one boy," answered Howard, rising and walking nervously about the
room, as the scene came freshly to his mind. "I don't know who he was,
for nobody seemed to be sure of his name. He had dark hair, and was
about Charlie Mac's size, I should think. They brought him up in the
cage just as Charlie and I stopped at the shaft, and the first thing we
knew, we were right beside him."

"What's it going to do to him?" asked Marjorie, as her bright face grew
very serious at the picture that Howard had brought before her.

"No one knew, for the doctor wasn't there, of course, and they took him
right off home. Papa said he was an English boy that lived over the
creek," said Grant, stretching himself out on the sofa, with his heels
on the cushion.

Marjorie sprang up and shook herself, with a little shiver.

"Don't let's talk about it any more," she exclaimed. "It just makes me
sick to think of it."

"But it's there, all the same, whether we talk about it