He never thought of asking Mr. Montague for more money.  He said there was now but one chance of finding coal against nine hundred and ninety nine that he would not find it, and so it would be wrong in him to make the request and foolish in Mr. Montague to grant it.

He had been working three shifts of men.  Finally, the settling of a weekly account exhausted his means.  He could not afford to run in debt, and therefore he gave the men their discharge.  They came into his cabin presently, where he sat with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands—­the picture of discouragement and their spokesman said: 

“Mr. Sterling, when Tim was down a week with his fall you kept him on half-wages and it was a mighty help to his family; whenever any of us was in trouble you’ve done what you could to help us out; you’ve acted fair and square with us every time, and I reckon we are men and know a man when we see him.  We haven’t got any faith in that hill, but we have a respect for a man that’s got the pluck that you’ve showed; you’ve fought a good fight, with everybody agin you and if we had grub to go on, I’m d—–­d if we wouldn’t stand by you till the cows come home!  That is what the boys say.  Now we want to put in one parting blast for luck.  We want to work three days more; if we don’t find anything, we won’t bring in no bill against you.  That is what we’ve come to say.”

Philip was touched.  If he had had money enough to buy three days’ “grub” he would have accepted the generous offer, but as it was, he could not consent to be less magnanimous than the men, and so he declined in a manly speech; shook hands all around and resumed his solitary communings.  The men went back to the tunnel and “put in a parting blast for luck” anyhow.  They did a full day’s work and then took their leave.  They called at his cabin and gave him good-bye, but were not able to tell him their day’s effort had given things a mere promising look.

The next day Philip sold all the tools but two or three sets; he also sold one of the now deserted cabins as old, lumber, together with its domestic wares; and made up his mind that he would buy, provisions with the trifle of money thus gained and continue his work alone.  About the middle of the after noon he put on his roughest clothes and went to the tunnel.  He lit a candle and groped his way in.  Presently he heard the sound of a pick or a drill, and wondered, what it meant.  A spark of light now appeared in the far end of the tunnel, and when he arrived there he found the man Tim at work.  Tim said: 

“I’m to have a job in the Golden Brier mine by and by—­in a week or ten days—­and I’m going to work here till then.  A man might as well be at some thing, and besides I consider that I owe you what you paid me when I was laid up.”

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.