“Not a bit of it! There’s been a—a little accident. Father is down there with some of the other men.” “Down where?” she asked sharply. “In Number Two drift. There was a cave-in. Of course they’ll get them out. Old Rafe Peters is on the job already with a gang. I’m going right up there.” “Oh, Chet! Are you _sure_ that is all? They are still alive?” “Of course!” cried the boy, with strong conviction and even calling up a smile. “Dan Gubbins came down to bring the news and get some more men. Dig and I are going to ride right up.” “Where is Digby’s father?” queried Mrs. Havens anxiously. “He didn’t happen to be there when the cave-in took place. But he’s probably there now. We’ll get at them all right. Don’t you fear, Mother.” “Oh, but my son! I shall be fearful indeed until I know your father is safe. I am always afraid when he is in the mine. The men take such chances!” “Well, the Silent Sue has not recorded many accidents. Father and Dig’s father are both very careful. Now, Mother, don’t worry any more than you can help. I’ll send down word just as soon as we know anything for sure.” He kissed her—and kissed her cheerfully. That was the hardest part of his mission, for he, too, was greatly worried. Then he seized his cap and quirt and hurried out to the corral. Dig Fordham had, for once, been prompt. He held Chet’s handsome bay, Hero, by the bridle, while his own sleepy-looking, Roman-nosed Poke was cropping grass at the edge of the road. “Come on, Dig!” Chet cried, hastily jerking the reins from his chum’s hand. “We must hurry.” “Did you tell her?” whispered his chum, awe-struck. “All she needed to know now,” snapped back Chet. “Look alive!” He was astride of Hero in a moment and the noble animal took the trail without urging. Dig whistled for Poke. Then he whistled again. The ugly, sleepy-looking animal stopped for just one more bite. “Isn’t that just like you, you ornery brute!” growled Digby. “If ever I wanted you in a hurry you wouldn’t mind. Come on!” He jumped for the horse, caught at the trailing bridle, and Poke stood on his hind legs and pawed the air, his eyes suddenly afire, striving to wheel about and escape Dig’s clutching hand. Digby Fordham wasn’t afraid of any horse. He sprang right in under the pawing hoofs, and seized the dangling reins. His hold was secure; his wrist firm. At his first jerk Poke’s head came down and, naturally, the horse’s forefeet as well. The instant the hoofs struck the ground, and before Poke could begin any further display of antics, Dig was in the saddle. Chet, looking back over his shoulder as Hero set the pace up the mountain, saw that his chum was securely astride Poke. Give Dig both feet in the stirrups, and no horse living could dismount him. He rode as though he were a part of the horse.