"Mayhap he'll be up by midnight for a bite to eat," says Llanders. "Then we'll just have to go down where he is," announces Waddy. Llanders stares at him curious. "You'd have an interesting time doing that, young man," says he; "very interesting." "But I say," starts in Waddy again, which was where I shut him off. "Back up, Waddy," says I, "before you bug the case entirely. Let me ask Mr. Llanders where I can call up your good friend Judson." "That I couldn't rightly say, sir," says Llanders. "It might be one place, and it might be another. Maybe they'd know better at the office of his estate in Scranton, but as he's been dead these eight years----" "Check!" says I. "It would have been a swell bluff if it had worked though, wouldn't it?" Llanders indulges in a grim smile. "But it didn't," says he. "That's the sad part," says I, "for Mr. Fiske here is in a great stew to see this Bruzinski party right away. There's a lady in the case, as you might know; one they met while they were soldierin' abroad. So if there's any way you could fix it for them to get together----" "Going down's the only way," says Llanders, "and that's strictly against orders." "Except on a pass, eh?" says I. "Lucky we brought that along. Waddy, slip it to Mr. Llanders. No, don't look stupid. Feel in your right hand vest pocket. That's it, one of those yellow-backed ones with a double X in the corners. Ah, here! Don't you know how to present a government pass?" And I has to take it away from him and tuck it careless into the superintendent's coat pocket. "Of course," says Llanders, "if you young gentlemen are on official business, it makes a difference." "Then let's hurry along," says Waddy, startin' impatient. "Dressed like that?" says Llanders, starin' at Waddy's Fifth Avenue costume. "I take it you've not been underground before, sir?" "Only in the subway," says Waddy. "You'll find a coal mine quite unlike the subway," says Llanders. "I think we can fix you up for it, though." They did. And when Waddy had swapped his frock coat for overalls and jumper, and added a pair of rubber boots and a greasy cap with an acetylene lamp stuck in the front of it he sure wouldn't have been recognized even by his favorite waiter at the club. I expect I looked about as tough, too. And I'll admit that all this preparation seemed kind of foolish there in the office. Ten minutes later I knew it wasn't. Not a bit. "Do we go down in a car or something?" asks Waddy. "Not if you go with me," says Llanders. "We'll walk down Slope 8. Before we start, however, it will be best for me to tell you that this was a drowned mine." "Listens excitin'," says I. "Meanin' what?" "Four years ago the creek came in on us," says Llanders, "flooded us to within ten feet of the shaft mouth. We lost only a dozen men, but it was two years before we had the lower levels clear. We manage to keep it down now with the pumps, Bruzinski is most likely at the further end of the lowest level."