Philip said, Oh, no, he didn't owe anything; but Tim persisted, and then

Philip said he had a little provision now, and would share. So for

several days Philip held the drill and Tim did the striking. At first

Philip was impatient to see the result of every blast, and was always

back and peering among the smoke the moment after the explosion. But

there was never any encouraging result; and therefore he finally lost

almost all interest, and hardly troubled himself to inspect results at

all. He simply labored on, stubbornly and with little hope.

Tim staid with him till the last moment, and then took up his job at the

Golden Brier, apparently as depressed by the continued barrenness of

their mutual labors as Philip was himself. After that, Philip fought his

battle alone, day after day, and slow work it was; he could scarcely see

that he made any progress.

Late one afternoon he finished drilling a hole which he had been at work

at for more than two hours; he swabbed it out, and poured in the powder

and inserted the fuse; then filled up the rest of the hole with dirt and

small fragments of stone; tamped it down firmly, touched his candle to

the fuse, and ran. By and by the I dull report came, and he was about to

walk back mechanically and see what was accomplished; but he halted;

presently turned on his heel and thought, rather than said:

"No, this is useless, this is absurd. If I found anything it would only

be one of those little aggravating seams of coal which doesn't mean

anything, and--"

667

The Gilded Age