Balanced on Spooner's tall, angular body was a round, bullet-like head, with a rim of reddish-gray hair. His lips were protruding, sagging at each corner, while the lids over his prominent eyes blinked as though trying to run a race with each other. "Who did it, I say?" roared the contractor, fixing his angry eyes upon the face of Steve Rush. "I am afraid I am the guilty one, sir. But it was an accident. I will tell you how it occurred. I----" Spooner gave the lad no opportunity to explain. Instead, the contractor, with an angry imprecation, started for Rush. Steve's mind worked quickly. He was not afraid; he was considering whether it were best to run or to stand his ground, and he decided upon the latter. "Stand back! Don't you touch me! I tell you it was an accident!" shouted the boy. The contractor was too enraged to listen to reason, and as he sprang for Rush he thrust forth his long arms to grab the boy. Spooner got a blow on the nose that sent him staggering backward, but Steve did not follow up the advantage he had gained. He could not expect to prove a match for the powerful miner, and perhaps he would not have been able to hit the latter as he did had the other been looking for anything of the sort. Spooner was more surprised than hurt. "If you will wait, sir, I will explain. I am sorry I fell on you and sorry I had to hit you, but you mustn't lay your hands on me. You must----" All work in drift seventeen had been suspended for the moment, and even the diamond drills had ceased their bang, bang, bang. Every man in the drift, save Spooner himself, had uttered a yell of delight when he saw the young miner's sturdy punch. "Look out, lad; he's coming for you again. Spooner, remember he's a boy; don't do anything you'll be sorry for. You'll be----" The contractor had started for young Rush again. "Get out of here!" roared the man. "Out of here before I wring your miserable neck!" Steve snatched up an iron bar that the trammers used to fasten the catches on the cars. He raised the bar over his shoulder. "If you try to touch me I'll hit you, sir," said the lad in a tone so polite and pleasant that Spooner paused in amazement, then uttered a hoarse guffaw. Nevertheless he halted where he was, for he saw an expression in the eyes of the boy before him which spelled trouble. Furthermore, Spooner knew how strict the rules of the mine were, and now that he had had an opportunity to get control of himself he decided not to throw the young man out bodily. "Get out of here before I help you, then. I can't stand everything. Go to work, you lazy louts! What do you mean by standing around on my time? I'll dock every man of you an hour's pay. Start those drills. Trammers, off with you. Are you going, boy?" "No, sir." "You're not going?" "No, sir; I am going to work here."