After discussion opened, some sense was talked. One shy little fellow with bloodshot eyes of old-time drillman stood up. "I’m an ice miner," he said. "Learned my trade doing time for Warden like most of you. I’ve been on my own thirty years and done okay. Raised eight kids and all of ‘em earned way—none eliminated nor any serious trouble. I should say I did do okay because today you have to listen farther out or deeper down to find ice.