y
than ever.

"Yes, sir, twelve foot at a time."

"And then came up twelve feet."

"That's right, sir."

"Then what's the good of them if they only give you a ride up and down
twelve feet?"

"To take you to the bottom."

"But they can't," cried Joe.

"I dunno about can't!" said the man, gruffly; "all I know is that they
do take 'em up or down whenever you like, and saves a lot of time,
besides being (I will say that for 'em) a regular rest."

"What, through just stepping on a shelf of the beam and stopping there?"

"Who said anything about stopping there?" cried the man, roughly. "You
steps on to the shelf and down goes the beam twelve foot, and you steps
off on to a bit o' platform. Up goes the beam and brings the next shelf
level with you, and on you gets to that. Down you go another twelve
foot, or another twenty-four. Steps off, up comes the next shelf, and
you steps on. Down she goes again, and you steps on and off, and on and
off, going down twelve foot at a time, till you're at the bottom, or
where you want to be part of the way down at one of the galleries."

"Of course," cried Gwyn, triumphantly. "I knew it was German, all
right, only I got a bit foggy over it when you said it wasn't."

"But--"

"I knew there was something. We forgot about stepping off and letting
the beam rise."

Joe scratched his head.

"Don't you see now?" cried Gwyn.

"Beginning to: not quite," said Joe, still in the same confused way.
Then, with a start, he gave his leg a hearty slap. "Why, of course," he
cried, "I see it all clearly enough now. You step on and go down, and
then step on and go up, and then you step on--and step on. Oh, I say,
how is it the thing does work after all?"

"Why you--" began Gwyn, roaring with laughter the while, but Joe
interrupted him.

"No, no; I've got it all right now. I see clearly enough. But it is
puzzling. What an obstinate old block you were, Ydoll."

"Eh? Oh, come, I like that," cried Gwyn. "Why you--" Then seeing the
mirthful look on his companion's face he clapped him on the shoulder.
"You did stick to it, though, that it wouldn't go, and no mistake."

"Well, I couldn't see it anyhow. It was a regular puzzle," said Joe,
frankly. "But I say, Tom Dinass, what made you call these man-engines
melancholy things?"

"'Cause of the mischief they doos, sir. I do hope you won't have one
here."

"Why? What mischief do they do?" cried Gwyn.

"Kills the poor lads