“Aw, yer both down on me,” growled Tony Traddles. “I might as well take my time and beat it.” “You might just as well, I think,” said Dig’s father grimly. “Here’s your money. Count it. Sign here in the book. Now be off—for your own good; for let me tell you the men who worked with you don’t feel very kindly toward you.” “Aw, let ’em blow! I ain’t afraid of ’em,” growled Tony Traddles. The boys had been watching Tony and the mine owners, but from such a distance that they could not hear the conversation. They heard the men talking, however—the men who had been thrown out of work for several days because of Tony’s carelessness. Chet, after listening to several threats, looked about for Dig. The latter had gone to Rafe Peters’ shack for a sandwich. Young Fordham had already expressed himself as being “half starved.” He was not used to going without his dinner. “Hi, Dig!” shouted Chet, beckoning to his chum. “Now, don’t ask for the core,” mumbled Dig, with his mouth full. “There ain’t going to be no core. Ask Rafe for a hand-out yourself.” “Don’t think everybody is as greedy as you are,” said Chet. “Come on here. I believe there is going to be trouble.” He said the last in a low voice after his chum had reached his side. “What d’you mean—trouble?” queried Dig. “The men are dreadfully sore on Tony Traddles.” “And why shouldn’t they be?” demanded Digby. “He’d ought to be tarred and feathered.” “Sh! Some of them might hear you.” “And I should worry about that!” cried Dig slangily. “There’s something going to happen to Tony, I do believe,” whispered Chet. “You see, your father’s paid him. Now he’s going up the hill. And a bunch of the men hurried over behind that hill a few minutes ago.” “Whew!” exclaimed Dig. “Maybe—maybe they’re going to lynch him!” “Don’t talk so foolishly!” cried Chet. “These miners aren’t murderers, I should hope! Why—there’s Bob Fane, and Jeffers, and Ike Pilsbury. Why, we know most all of them! They’re decent men and wouldn’t kill even Tony.” Dig chuckled. “Guess you think he deserves it, whatever they do to him?” he suggested. “Come on! Father and your father are busy. I want to see if they do get Tony Traddles,” Chet said eagerly, and set off for the grove of trees directly above the mouth of the mine that had been caved in because of Tony Traddles’ negligence. The men had melted away from about the shaft. Even Rafe Peters, the foreman, had disappeared. Mr. Havens and Mr. Fordham were busy at the corrugated iron shack that served as an office. The women and children had taken their recovered husbands and fathers home; it was only the younger and more irresponsible element of the Silent Sue workmen that had gone over the hill.