fficiently to ask two of
the boys to go to the chamber at the foot of the slope and procure
assistance to carry Bill Tooley, who was evidently unable to walk. After
a long delay these two returned, in company with several miners, who
brought a stretcher such as is often kept in coal mines in readiness for
the accidents that are so common to them.

From what the messenger boys had told them, these men knew most of the
facts connected with the accident. They were so loud in their praise of
Paul for his brave deed that he became greatly confused, though it must
be confessed that praise from these great strong men, any one of whom
would be proud to have done what he had, sounded very pleasantly to the
crippled lad. In order to have a little time to think it all over, he
hobbled on ahead of the others, who moved but slowly with their burden.

When he was thus alone with his thoughts, Paul suddenly remembered the
object for which he had entered the mine. It had been completely lost
sight of in the excitement of the past hour, but now he realized that
they had discovered nothing concerning Derrick's fate. He grew faint and
cold at the remembrance of the air-shaft. Did his dear friend's body lie
at the bottom of it? He trembled as he thought how very possibly this
might be the case, and waiting for the men to overtake him, he asked if
they knew anything of Derrick Sterling.

"Yes," answered one of them, "I saw him come out of his mother's house
as I was passing on my way to the slope, more'n half an hour ago."

"Are you sure?" asked Paul, in great surprise.

"Certainly I am. Why not? was there anything strange in that?"

"Yes, we thought he was lost in the mine, and have been hunting for
him."

"Well, you were mistaken, that's all, and you've had your hunt for
nothing."

Paul was made very happy by this news, though it greatly puzzled him.
The other boys were relieved to hear that Derrick was safe, but greatly
alarmed as to what fate was in store for them as a punishment for the
injuries they had inflicted upon him. Judging from what they would have
done under similar circumstances, they did not doubt that Derrick had
already spread the story of his wrongs through the village, together
with the names of all those who had persecuted him.

At length the party reached the foot of the slope, and Bill Tooley, with
his head resting in Paul Evert's lap, and moaning with pain, was sent in
an empty car to the surface. The bull