up the inert mass of dirt and stone just 
above our heads, piles of uninteresting 
rock dumped to one side, the ‘ pay 
dirt.” I had seen such things before, 
and they had said nothing to me. But 
this was ovr mine, ovr stream, ovr dump. 
McCaffrey, the foreman, put rubber 
boots on me in the little smithy which 
formed a part of the entrance of the 
tunnel, and thus equipped I entered 
the tunnel. The day shift, represented 
by two dancing lights far off in the 
blackness, was preparing to blast. 
I advanced uncertainly, my own can- 
dle blinding me. Water trickled from 
the roof and walls of this rock-bound 
passage seven feet high and four feet 
wide. A stream of it flowed by the 
tiny tram track. The hollow sound of 
the mallet on the crowbar forcing its 
way into the stubborn wall grew louder 
Nz 
MOO MANILA 
SzZO</> 
_—a 
