Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1901-11-25
THE APOLOGY OF ROBERTS
By Philip Verril rligfeIs.
" HE rain descending on top of

= the snow had made Roberts
thoroughly wet. Standing in
side the mouth of his tunnel,
he lighted a candle, and then gazed
out on the dreary scene presented by
the gray hills.
Its an elegant Christmas" he
grumbled, "and nothing for q Christ
mas-tree this side of Sugar Loaf
Gulch." There was nothing green,
certainly, save Il single scrub-brush
of mountain-tea. 81 suppose I've got
to Co." he added; "the kid don't ask
for much, and L reckon he's lonely,
poor little man"
He started into the mine. On either
side upright timbers supported the
roof Of the tunnel. Close to these one
after another, the miner held his can
die, sweeping it slowly down the
length of each. Every one was bent
inward, Il few We're splitting, and
ominous cracks sounded along the line,
as the posts shouldered up the weight
of the saturated hill above. Roberts
understood the situation. Had the day
not been so far advanced he would
have gone to work at once to reinforce
the mine against the impending cal
amity. As it was, he cursed his luck
and walked rapidly in, to secure an
axe with which to cut tree for his
small boys Christmas. Having Sc
cured the implement, he leaned upon
it in contemplation of the end of the
tunnel, with its meagre vein of quartz.
IF it wasn't for that color of gold"
he mused, I'D let you go to the devil"
The crack of the timbers further out
made him start He shouldered the
axe, and returned toward the day
light.
A chorus of cracking and crunching
sounds greeted his approach; he felt
chill go down his spine, A moment
later Il loud splitting behind him re-
verberated down the tunnel, followed
by Il laundering sound and Il rush Of
air. His light went out.
Crashing OF timbers, gritting Of
rocks, aud Il groaning Of wood made
terrifying din. The miner ran for
his life. The tumbling posts, the down
pouring earth, and the splinters of
splitting wood pursued him.
The tunnels mouth-a warping
square-was now in sight. Axe in
hand the racing man tore along the
laundering hall of the fast-iilling
tomb. Another leap, and he would
clear the place. The sill OF the door
tripped and threw him On the rock
floor. He scrambled away on hands
and knees. a single hunk Of rock
crushed at the heel of his foot.
Hurt and limping, he arose, stepped
further along, and faced about. A
twisted scar in the hill marked the
place where he had labored so long.
Even in the rain cloud Of dust was
slowly floating away. The axe was
buried.
Didn't git mew said the man, in a
peculiar spirit of triumph. But sure
enough, you've gone to the DEVIL" He
found himself surprised that the fur
row above the cave was so narrow
and shallow. 1t seemed utterly in
adequate to the work he had expend-
ed in delying. mo Christmas-tree now
for the kid" he remarked. Il guess
this mountain-tea will have to do the
business
He hacked off the stem of the brush
with his knife, and swinging it on his
back, limped away.
The brush, with its candles, its bits
of ribbon which the man had cher
ished and its odd array of presents"
pleased the seven-year-old child in
Roberts cabin immensely. The little
chap was more than commonly lone
some, having been inordinately fond
of the mother, who had made him her
constant companion. Since her death
it had been her personal trinkets that
gave him the greatest pleasure. This
was the reason why the present on
the tree which delighted him most
was a gourd which his mother had
employed in darning stockings.
"Can / take it with me to aunty's?"
he inquired wistfully, holding it tight
in his hands.
"Why of course you can, If you
want; but you know you amt coming
home for week, and 1 wouldn't like
for you to lose it, little man."
On Christmas morning Roberts car
ried the boy as far as the caved-in
mine, and started him off on his visit
to the camp over the hill.
Don't forget to come back to Dad
on New Years Eve" he instructed.
"Start by four in the evening. sure.
You better not come if it happens to
snow-sayvy?" And he kissed the lit
tie fellow good-by.
CHAPTER II.
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