ade, the superintendent giving Hanlon a key
as they unlocked the gates. Hanlon saw that the corral was divided into
twelve sections.

"One guard has charge of all the natives in one section, and they all
work each shift," Philander explained.

"What if one of them is sick?"

"They don't get sick," the man's voice was gruff, and Hanlon's first
thought was that what he really meant was that the natives were worked
no matter how they felt. But he quickly became ashamed of the
thought--he didn't know anything about them yet, and perhaps they
actually never did get sick. He would have to quit jumping to
conclusions that way--it would seriously retard his ability to make
correct deductions.

At the rearmost section, Philander opened another gate with the same
key, and flashed his portable glo-light inside the large hut that
covered most of the space of the section. Hanlon, close behind, could
see about twenty of the "Greenies," as he had learned they were usually
called, standing or lying about. There was no furniture inside, no
chairs nor stools, tables or beds.

"They eat and sleep standing up--that's why the huts don't need any
furnishings," Philander explained.

At sight of the men and the light, most of the natives began moving
toward the door. A few at the back didn't move fast enough to satisfy
Philander, and with a curse he ran back and touched them with that
shock-rod he carried.

Hanlon could see an expression of agony on the faces of those touched,
and as they writhed away from the rod he realized it must be very
painful, indeed, if not exquisite torture to them. They now jumped
forward, and huddled pathetically near the door.

Philander took a long, light but very tough line from his pocket. It had
a series of running nooses in it, and he slipped one of these about the
wrist of each native, drawing it tight. Then he half-led, half-dragged
them out of the stockade, to the mine entrance, and down the drift to
the rise they had to climb to get to the stope Hanlon's crew was to
work.

Once there, and released from the rope, the natives seemed to know what
they were supposed to do, and sullenly started doing it.

"You usually use three pickmen, four shovellers, four for your timbering
crew, three sorters, and six on the wheel-barrows," Philander explained.
"Sometimes, if the vein widens out enough, you get extra hands to work
the wider face, but this size crew generally works out best. You'll soon
get use