Harry looked down the hole, stared intently at nothing, then turned to the rusty hoist.
"'Ere 's the thing we 've got to fix up now.

This 'ere chiv wheel's all out of gear." "What makes your face so red ?" Fairchild asked the question as the be-mustached visage of Harry came nearer to the carbide.

Harry looked up.
"Mother 'Oward almost slapped it off!" came his rueful answer.

"For not telling 'er what I was going to do, and letting 'er think I got drownded.

But 'ow was I to know ?" He went to tinkering with the big chiv wheel then, supported on its heavy timbers, and over which the cable must pass to allow the skip to travel on its rails down the shaft.