Fairchild found the humor to smile.
"You 're almost as cheerful as I am." Noon came and they stopped for lunch.

Fairchild finished the remark begun hours before.

"I 'm in four feet now--and all I get is rock." "Sure now ?" "Look." They went to the foot wall and with a scraper brought out some of the muggy mass caused by the pouring of water into the "down-hole" to make the sittings capable of removal.

Harry rubbed it with a thumb and forefinger.
"That's all," he announced, as he went back to his dinner pail.
Together, silently, they finished their luncheon.

Once more Fairchild took up his work, dully, almost lackadaisically, pounding away at the long, six-foot drill with strokes that had behind them only muscles, not the intense driving power of hope.