Pippin　was　full　of　wistful　questions　about　〃home。〃　　He　wanted　to　talk
  of　music；　pictures；　plays；　of　how　London　looked；　what　new　streets
  there　were；　and；　above　all；　whether　Scorrier　had　been　lately　in　the
  West　Country。　　He　talked　of　getting　leave　next　winter；　asked　whether
  Scorrier　thought　they　would　〃put　up　with　him　at　home〃；　then；　with　the
  agitation　which　had　alarmed　Scorrier　before；　he　added：　〃Ah！　but　I'm
  not　fit　for　home　now。　　One　gets　spoiled；　it's　big　and　silent　here。
  What　should　I　go　back　to？　　I　don't　seem　to　realise。〃
  Scorrier　thought　of　Hemmings。　　〃'Tis　a　bit　cramped　there；　certainly；〃
  he　muttered。
  Pippin　went　on　as　if　divining　his　thoughts。　　〃I　suppose　our　friend
  Hemmings　would　call　me　foolish；　he's　above　the　little　weaknesses　of
  imagination；　eh？　　Yes；　it's　silent　here。　　Sometimes　in　the　evening　I
  would　give　my　head　for　somebody　to　talk　toHemmings　would　never　give
  his　head　for　anything；　I　think。　　But　all　the　same；　I　couldn't　face
  them　at　home。　　Spoiled！〃　　And　slyly　he　murmured：　〃What　would　the
  Board　say　if　they　could　hear　that？〃
  Scorrier　blurted　out：　〃To　tell　you　the　truth；　they　complain　a　little
  of　not　hearing　from　you。〃
  Pippin　put　out　a　hand；　as　if　to　push　something　away。　　〃Let　them　try
  the　life　here！〃　he　broke　out；　〃it's　like　sitting　on　a　live　volcano
  what　with　our　friends；　'the　enemy；'　over　there；　the　men；　the　American
  competition。　　I　keep　it　going；　Scorrier；　but　at　what　a　costat　what
  a　cost！〃
  〃But　surelyletters？〃
  Pippin　only　answered：　〃　I　tryI　try！〃
  Scorrier　felt　with　remorse　and　wonder　that　he　had　spoken　the　truth。
  The　following　day　he　left　for　his　inspection；　and　while　in　the　camp
  of　〃the　enemy〃　much　was　the　talk　he　heard　of　Pippin。
  〃Why！〃　said　his　host；　the　superintendent；　a　little　man　with　a　face
  somewhat　like　an　owl's；　〃d'you　know　the　name　they've　given　him　down
  in　the　capital'the　King'good；　eh？　　He's　made　them　'sit　up'　all
  along　this　coast。　　I　like　him　well　enoughgoodhearted　man；
  shocking　nervous；　but　my　people　down　there　can't　stand　him　at　any
  price。　　Sir；　he　runs　this　colony。　　You'd　think　butter　wouldn't　melt
  in　that　mouth　of　his；　but　he　always　gets　his　way；　that's　what　riles
  'em　so；　that　and　the　success　he's　making　of　his　mine。　　It　puzzles　me；
  you'd　think　he'd　only　be　too　glad　of　a　quiet　life；　a　man　with　his
  nerves。　　But　no；　he's　never　happy　unless　he's　fighting；　something
  where　he's　got　a　chance　to　score　a　victory。　　I　won't　say　he　likes　it；
  but；　by　Jove；　it　seems　he's　got　to　do　it。　　Now　that's　funny！　　I'll
  tell　you　one　thing；　though　shouldn't　be　a　bit　surprised　if　he　broke
  down　some　day；　and　I'll　tell　you　another；〃　he　added　darkly；　〃he's
  sailing　very　near　the　wind；　with　those　large　contracts　that　he　makes。
  I　wouldn't　care　to　take　his　risks。　　Just　let　them　have　a　strike；　or
  something　that　shuts　them　down　for　a　spelland　mark　my　words；　sir
  it'll　be　all　up　with　them。　　But；〃　he　concluded　confidentially；　〃I
  wish　I　had　his　hold　on　the　men；　it's　a　great　thing　in　this　country。
  Not　like　home；　where　you　can　go　round　a　corner　and　get　another　gang。
  You　have　to　make　the　best　you　can　out　of　the　lot　you　have；　you　won't；
  get　another　man　for　love　or　money　without　you　ship　him　a　few　hundred
  miles。〃　　And　with　a　frown　he　waved　his　arm　over　the　forests　to
  indicate　the　barrenness　of　the　land。
  Scorrier　finished　his　inspection　and　went　on　a　shooting　trip　into　the
  forest。　　His　host　met　him　on　his　return。　　〃Just　look　at　this！〃　he
  said；　holding　out　a　telegram。　　〃Awful；　isn't　it？〃　His　face　expressed
  a　profound　commiseration；　almost　ludicrously　mixed　with　the　ashamed
  contentment　that　men　experience　at　the　misfortunes　of　an　enemy。
  The　telegram；　dated　the　day　before；　ran　thus　〃Frightful　explosion　New
  Colliery　this　morning；　great　loss　of　life　feared。〃
  Scorrier　had　the　bewildered　thought：　'Pippin　will　want　me　now。'
  He　took　leave　of　his　host；　who　called　after　him：　〃You'd　better　wait
  for　a　steamer！　　It's　a　beastly　drive！〃
  Scorrier　shook　his　head。　　All　night；　jolting　along　a　rough　track　cut
  through　the　forest；　he　thought　of　Pippin。　　The　other　miseries　of　this
  calamity　at　present　left　him　cold；　he　barely　thought　of　the　smothered
  men；　but　Pippin's　struggle；　his　lonely　struggle　with　this　hydra…
  headed　monster；　touched　him　very　nearly。　　He　fell　asleep　and　dreamed
  of　watching　Pippin　slowly　strangled　by　a　snake；　the　agonised；　kindly；
  ironic　face　peeping　out　between　two　gleaming　coils　was　so　horribly
  real；　that　he　awoke。　　It　was　the　moment　before　dawn：　pitch…black
  branches　barred　the　sky；　with　every　jolt　of　the　wheels　the　gleams
  from　the　lamps　danced；　fantastic　and　intrusive；　round　ferns　and　tree…
  stems；　into　the　cold　heart　of　the　forest。　　For　an　hour　or　more
  Scorrier　tried　to　feign　sleep；　and　hide　from　the　stillness；　and
  overmastering　gloom　of　these　great　woods。　　Then　softly　a　whisper　of
  noises　stole　forth；　a　stir　of　light；　and　the　whole　slow　radiance　of
  the　morning　glory。　　But　it　brought　no　warmth；　and　Scorrier　wrapped
  himself　closer　in　his　cloak；　feeling　as　though　old　age　had　touched
  him。
  Close　on　noon　he　reached　the　township。　　Glamour　seemed　still　to　hover
  over　it。　　He　drove　on　to　the　mine。　　The　winding…engine　was　turning；
  the　pulley　at　the　top　of　the　head…gear　whizzing　round；　nothing　looked
  unusual。　　'Some　mistake！'　he　thought。　　He　drove　to　the　mine
  buildings；　alighted；　and　climbed　to　the　shaft　head。　　Instead　of　the
  usual　rumbling　of　the　trolleys；　the　rattle　of　coal　discharged　over
  the　screens；　there　was　silence。　　Close　by；　Pippin　himself　was
  standing；　smirched　with　dirt。　　The　cage；　coming　swift　and　silent　from
  below；　shot　open　its　doors　with　a　sharp　rattle。　　Scorrier　bent
  forward　to　look。　　There　lay　a　dead　man；　with　a　smile　on　his　face。
  〃How　many？〃　he　whispered。
  Pippin　answered：　〃Eighty…four　brought　upforty…seven　still　below；〃
  and　entered　the　man's　name　in　a　pocket…book。
  An　older　man　was　taken　out　next；　he　too　was　smilingthere　had　been
  vouchsafed　to　him；　it　seemed；　a　taste　of　more　than　earthly　joy。　　The
  sight　of　those　strange　smiles　affected　Scorrier　more　than　all　the
  anguish　or　despair　he　had　seen　scored　on　the　faces　of　other　dead　men。
  He　asked　an　old　miner　how　long　Pippin　had　been　at　work。
  〃Thirty　hours。　　Yesterday　he　wer'　below；　we　had　to　nigh　carry　mun　up
  at　last。　　He's　for　goin'　down　again；　but　the　chaps　won't　lower　mun；〃
  the　old　man　gave　a　sigh。　　〃I'm　waiting　for　my　boy　to　come　up；　I　am。〃
  Scorrier　waited　toothere　was　fascination　about　those　dead；　smiling
  faces。　　The　rescuing　of　these　men　who　would　never　again　breathe　went
  on　and　on。　　Scorrier　grew　sleepy　in　the　sun。　　The　old　miner　woke　him；
  saying：　〃Rummy　stuff　this　here　chokedamp；　see；　they　all　dies　drunk！〃
  The　very　next　to　be　brought　up　was　the　chief　engineer。　　Scorrier　had
  known　him　quite　well；　one　of　those　Scotsmen　who　are　born　at　the　age
  of　forty　and　remain　so　all　their　lives。　　His　facethe　only　one　that
  wore　no　smileseemed　grieving　that　duty　had　deprived　it　of　that　last
  luxury。　　With　wide　eyes　and　drawn　lips　he　had　died　protesting。
  Late　in　the　afternoon　the　old　miner　touched　Scorrier's　arm；　and　said：
  〃There　he　isthere's　my　boy！〃　　And　he　departed　slowly；　wheeling　the
  body　on　a　trolley。
  As　the　sun　set；　the　gang　below　came　up。　　No　further　search　was
  possible　till　the　fumes　had　cleared。　　Scorrier　heard　one　man　say：
  〃There's　some　we'll　never　get；　they've　had　sure　burial〃
  Another　answered　him：　〃'Tis　a　gude　enough　bag　for　me！〃　　They　passed
  him；　the　whites　of　their　eyes　gleaming　out　of　faces　black　as　ink。
  Pippin　drove　him　home　at　a　furious　pace；　not　uttering　a　single　word。
  As　they　turned　into　the　main　street；　a　young　woman　starting　out
  before　the　horses　obliged　Pippin　to　pull　up。　　The　glance　he　bent　on
  Scorrier　was　ludicrously　prescient　of　suffering。　　The　woman　asked　for
  her　husband。　　Several　times　they　were　stopped　thus　by　women　asking
  for　their　husbands　or　sons。　　〃This　is　what　I　have　to　go　through；〃
  Pippin　whispered。
  When　they　had　eaten；　he　said　to　Scorrier：　〃It　was　kind　of　you　to　come
  and　stand　by　me！　　They　take　me　for　a　god；　poor　creature　that　I　am。
  But　shall　I　ever　get　the　men　down　again？　　Their　nerve's　shaken。　　I
  wish　I　were　one　of　those　poor　lads；　to　die　with　a　smile　like　that！〃
  Scorrier　felt　the　futility　of　his　presence。　　On　Pippin　alone　must　be
  the　heat　and　burden。　　Would　he　stand　under　it；　or　would　the　whole
  thing　come　crashing　to　the　ground？　　He　urged　him　again　and　again　to
  rest；　but　Pippin　only　gave　him　one　of　his　queer　smiles。　　〃You　don't
  know　how　strong　I　am！〃　he　said。
  IV
  He　himself　slept　heavily；　and；　waking　at　dawn；　went　down。　　Pippin　was
  still　at　his　desk；　his　pen　had　dropped；　he　was　asleep。　　The　ink　was
  wet；　Scorrier's　eye　caught　the　opening　words：
  〃GENTLEMEN；Since　this　happened　I　have　not　slept。。。。〃
  He　stole　away　again　with　a　sense　of　indignation　that　no　one　could　be
  dragged　in　to　share　that　fight。　　The　London　Board…room　rose　before
  h