The young man understood in an
instant. His father propped himself up against the rock. Harry got upon
his shoulders, so that with his pick he could reach the line of the
fissure. Then with quick sharp blows he attacked it. Almost directly
afterwards a slight sound was heard, like champagne escaping from a
bottle--a sound commonly expressed by the word "puff."

Harry again seized his lamp, and held it to the opening. There was
a slight report; and a little red flame, rather blue at its outline,
flickered over the rock like a Will-o'-the-Wisp.

Harry leaped to the ground, and the old overman, unable to contain his
joy, grasped the engineer's hands, exclaiming, "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Mr. Starr. The fire-damp burns! the vein is there!"

CHAPTER VII. NEW ABERFOYLE

THE old overman's experiment had succeeded. Firedamp, it is well known,
is only generated in coal seams; therefore the existence of a vein of
precious combustible could no longer be doubted. As to its size and
quality, that must be determined later.

"Yes," thought James Starr, "behind that wall lies a carboniferous bed,
undiscovered by our soundings. It is vexatious that all the apparatus
of the mine, deserted for ten years, must be set up anew. Never mind. We
have found the vein which was thought to be exhausted, and this time it
shall be worked to the end!"

"Well, Mr. Starr," asked Ford, "what do you think of our discovery? Was
I wrong to trouble you? Are you sorry to have paid this visit to the
Dochart pit?"

"No, no, my old friend!" answered Starr. "We have not lost our time;
but we shall be losing it now, if we do not return immediately to the
cottage. To-morrow we will come back here. We will blast this wall
with dynamite. We will lay open the new vein, and after a series of
soundings, if the seam appears to be large, I will form a new Aberfoyle
Company, to the great satisfaction of the old shareholders. Before three
months have passed, the first corves full of coal will have been taken
from the new vein."

"Well said, sir!" cried Simon Ford. "The old mine will grow young again,
like a widow who remarries! The bustle of the old days will soon begin
with the blows of the pick, and mattock, blasts of powder, rumbling of
wagons, neighing of horses, creaking of machines! I shall see it all
again! I hope, Mr. Starr, that you will not think me too old to resume
my duties of overman?"

"No, Simon, no indeed! You wear better than I do, my old