The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1909-10-15
My Silent
Partner
By ALBERT W. roLMAN


said the engineer of the dredge, ret.
respectively. without thinking Of
Charley Cassilear In thirty years
I've had to do with all sorts Of men
and machinery, good, bad and indif-
ferent. About some things my mem
ory's pretty hazy. but I'll never for
get the scrape got into When ! was
master mechanic Of the Record King
hematite-mine in the Marquette re-
gion, with Charley as assistant.
Charley was just turned twenty
one; he was literally a silent part
ner,' being, as have said, deaf and
dumb. Twas bad handicap, but he
had brains and grit for dozen. He
knew more about boilers and steam
pumps than any two ordinary me-
chanics. guess he put into study
and thought the hours men with ears
and tongues waste in talk that doesn't
amount to anything. He was quick,
too; drop him into q hard place, and
he always fell on his feet.
Well, Charley and slid along
comfortably for two years. We had
our signal-code, and understood each
other perfectly. When a mans work.
ing about machinery, actually work
ing. mind you, not loading, it's sur
prising how little real need he has
Of his tongue.
Zone cool Saturday night late in
September the Number 6 Knowles
pump in Shaft winze went on strike.
It was hurry call for the doctor:
90 just before midnight Ferguson.
the engineer, shot Charley and me to
the bottom Of the shaft in the ore
bucket.
"a hundred yards along the main
drift. right-angled turn, forty more
through cross-drift, and we hit the
winze
AT Its end lay the well, ten feet
square and twenty deep, half-full Of
black water. with a plank running
over 1t to niche where the pump
was placed. started across, Charley
close behind.
Now accidents happen Ave hundred
feet underground as we'll as at the
surface. could almost put my hand
on the pump when little rock slip
ped out from under the plank end,
and the plank tilted bit. or course
didn't want to be dumped into the
pit, so jumped for the ledge, for
getting for a second that the top OF
the niche was lower than that OF
the winze. was reminded Of 1t pref
ty quick.
Bang! It seemed as II a pile.
driver had hit me. i tumbled back
ward in rain Of fireworks, and went
down into the water.
Il caught a sidewlse glimpse of the
pump jumping for the roof In the
polished black mirror leaping to meet
me were two men, candles in caps,
tooEbags round necks. arms out
stretched. Then with mighty splash
the glass shivered into a million
pieces, and plunged through 1t into
icy ink.
For littlo threshed about un.
der the surface, almost stunned.
Soon. however, the cold water
brought me to: and I realized that
the stars saw were in my head,
and not outside. threw the tool.
bag of my neck. began to paddle,
and came quickly up. My hands
touched iron; it was the three-inch
suction-pipe of the pump.
''My skull was splitting. What had
hit me? At first thought had
been struck from behind. But l
felt a bump on my temple instead OF
on the back of my head. Then /
understood.
Beside me rose a wheeling and
splashing; Charley Fad fallen in.
too. reached out, clutched a shout
der. and dragged him to the pipe.
There we chung silently, neck-deep,
fingers locked round the chill iron.
never knew before that 1t could
be so utterly dark.
"Drip-drip-drip! Save for that, abb
solute stiffness. Drip-drip-dripi 1t
was no place for warmblooded
mortals. We must bestir ourselves.