Steve lay limp and pallid, his face almost as white as the sheets of the cot on which he had been placed, and there was a troubled look in the eyes of the big-hearted superintendent as he left the company's hospital and hurried to the shaft. "Let me off at the seventeenth level," he directed, taking his place in the cage. A few minutes later found him at the chutes where the accident had occurred. Bob, pale-faced and anxious, had been placed at the tally-board and the work of the mine was going on much as usual. "Please, Mr. Penton, is Steve badly hurt?" demanded the lad, running over to the superintendent the instant he saw him approaching. "I fear he is, my boy. How did the accident occur?" "We hear he was carried up on the skip and dropped on the trestle." "I mean what happened here?" "The boy fell through the old trap there," explained the mine captain, approaching at that moment. "Fell through the trap?" demanded Mr. Penton in surprise. "Yes, the old trap that was closed several years ago. The men are fixing it so a similar accident won't occur again." "Tell me exactly what happened." "I didn't see it. The motor-man there can tell you. He is just coming in now." The motor-man explained that young Rush was hammering at the dump-car catch when the trap gave way beneath him and he went down. That was all that anyone below ground knew about the accident. In fact, that was all there was to tell so far as any one in the mine knew. Mr. Penton looked grave. It was an accident that reflected on him, for the corporation looked to him to make the mine safe. He was greatly disturbed, but more on Steve's account than on his own. The superintendent climbed down into the skip shaft and made an examination on his own account. "Where are the supports that held up the trap?" he demanded upon his return to the platform. "If they ain't there we must have thrown them into the shaft," explained the timber-man. "You should have known better than that. Was it a break?" "It was a break, all right. The thing just gave out, and that's all there was to it. But you can bet this one won't give way, not in a thousand years. It'll be here long after the old mine has caved in." Mr. Penton did not go on with his inspection of the mine that day. He was too full of anxiety for Steve Rush. Bob had begged to be let off for the afternoon, and Mr. Penton had willingly granted his request. The lad hurried to the hospital, after having changed his clothes, and at his earnest request he was allowed to sit beside Steve. The boy could scarcely keep the tears back as he gazed down into the pale face of his companion. Bob was sure in his own mind that Steve was dying and Jarvis' eyes were large and sorrowful as he watched the surgeon working over the unconscious patient.