The Gilded Age


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CHAPTER LXII  
Philip Sterling's circumstances were becoming straightened. The prospect  
was gloomy. His long siege of unproductive labor was beginning to tell  
upon his spirits; but what told still more upon them was the undeniable  
fact that the promise of ultimate success diminished every day, now.  
That is to say, the tunnel had reached a point in the hill which was  
considerably beyond where the coal vein should pass (according to all his  
calculations) if there were a coal vein there; and so, every foot that  
the tunnel now progressed seemed to carry it further away from the object  
of the search.  
Sometimes he ventured to hope that he had made a mistake in estimating  
the direction which the vein should naturally take after crossing the  
valley and entering the hill. Upon such occasions he would go into the  
nearest mine on the vein he was hunting for, and once more get the  
bearings of the deposit and mark out its probable course; but the result  
was the same every time; his tunnel had manifestly pierced beyond the  
natural point of junction; and then his, spirits fell a little lower.  
His men had already lost faith, and he often overheard them saying it was  
perfectly plain that there was no coal in the hill.  
Foremen and laborers from neighboring mines, and no end of experienced  
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