"I'll tell you all about it in a minute, dear," he said at last
with a forced smile. Then he touched Morris's arm and the two left
the room.
CHAPTER XIV
The Scribe would willingly omit this chapter. Dying men, hurrying
doctors, improvised stretchers made of wrenched fence rails;
silent, slow-moving throngs following limp, bruised bodies,--are
not pleasant objects to write about and should be disposed of as
quickly as possible.
Exactly whose fault it was nobody knew; if any one did, no one
ever told. Every precaution had been taken each charge had been
properly placed and tamped; all the fulminates inspected and the
connections made with the greatest care. As to the battery--that
was known to be half a mile away in the pay shanty, lying on Jack
Breen's table.
Nor was the weather unfavorable. True, there had been rain the day
before, starting a general thaw, but none of the downpour had
soaked through the outer crust of the tunnel to the working force
inside and no extra labor had devolved on the pumps.
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