Their shift was from four in the afternoon to midnight; but when at midnight they went back through the drift to the shaft to be hoisted to the surface, the night foreman informed them that there was some trouble with the cage; that while they could still hoist rock, it was not deemed safe to trust men on the cage, and, accordingly, some blankets, mattresses, and supper had been sent down, and they would have to spend the night in a cross-cut running from the shaft.

The other miners growled.  These two made no complaint, but ate their suppers, then took their beds and spread them in the cross-cut.  Sedgwick and Browning went farthest into the cross-cut, made their beds together, and lay down.  When they knew by the breathing of the miners nearest them that they were asleep, in low tones they began to talk.

Browning was the first to speak.  “By Jove, Jim,” he said, “that cage story is too thin.  It worked all right up to ten o’clock, for Mackay and Fair both came down and spent a good quarter of an hour in the end of the drift and kept tapping around with their hammers.  I was mean enough to watch them on the sly and saw them both taking samples.  If you keep awake, you will see John Mackay down here again by six o’clock in the morning, and you may make up your mind not to see any more daylight for three days or a week to come; that is, if the drift keeps on improving.”

“I believe it, Jack,” said Sedgwick; “did you notice that the last blast left nearly the whole face of the drift in ore?  Then, did you notice as we met the car coming out, it had long drills in it, and the shift boss was following it up close?  No blasting will be done to-night, but the drillings will be saved for assay, and I tell you the plan is that we shall tell no tales out of school.  Believe me, that cage will not be safe again till as much stock shall be taken in as is needed by those in control.”

“And so,” said Browning, “when we get to the surface our little money will not buy enough stock to make it any object.”

“I have been thinking of that,” said Sedgwick, “and it makes me hot, for all day I have been dreaming of doubling my money.”

“I have a notion,” said Browning, “to try to work my way out on the ladders.”

“That will not work,” replied Sedgwick; “I looked, and all the lower ladders have been taken down.”

Then a long silence followed, until at last Sedgwick spoke again.  “I have it, Jack,” said he.  Lighting his candle, he groped around in the cross-cut, and found a splinter from a lagging.  Fishing out a stump of a pencil from the pocket of his pantaloons, he said, “Where is your money, Browning?”

“In the California Bank,” he replied.

“All right,” was the response.  Then on the splinter he wrote for a moment, and then said, “How is this?” and in a whisper read:  “California Bank, Please pay to John W. Mackay whatever funds may be to our respective credits.”