Philip himself was a prey to the constant fear that the money would give out before the coal was struck.
At this time Harry was summoned to New York, to attend the trial of Laura Hawkins. It was possible that Philip would have to go also, her lawyer wrote, but they hoped for a postponement. There was important evidence that they could not yet obtain, and he hoped the judge would not force them to a trial unprepared. There were many reasons for a delay, reasons which of course are never mentioned, but which it would seem that a New York judge sometimes must understand, when he grants a postponement upon a motion that seems to the public altogether inadequate.
Harry went, but he soon came back. The trial was put off. Every week we can gain, said the learned counsel, Braham, improves our chances. The popular rage never lasts long.
CHAPTER XLIX.
"We've struck it!"
This was the announcement at the tent door that woke Philip out of a sound sleep at dead of night, and shook all the sleepiness out of him in a trice.
"What! Where is it? When? Coal? Let me see it. What quality is it?" were some of the rapid questions that Philip poured out as he hurriedly dressed. "Harry, wake up, my boy, the coal train is coming. Struck it, eh? Let's see?"
The foreman put down his lantern, and handed Philip a black lump. There was no mistake about it, it was the hard, shining anthracite, and its freshly fractured surface, glistened in the light like polished steel. Diamond never shone with such lustre in the eyes of Philip.
Harry was exuberant, but Philip's natural caution found expression in his next remark.
"Now, Roberts, you are sure about this?"
"What--sure that it's coal?"
"O, no, sure that it's the main vein."
"Well, yes. We took it to be that"
"Did you from the first?"
"I can't say we did at first. No, we didn't. Most of the indications were there, but not all of them, not all of them. So we thought we'd prospect a bit."
"Well?"
"It was tolerable thick, and looked as if it might be the vein--looked as if it ought to be the vein. Then we went down on it a little. Looked better all the time."
"When did you strike it?"
"About ten o'clock."
"Then you've been prospecting about four hours."
"Yes, been sinking on it something over four hours."
"I'm afraid you couldn't go down very far in four hours--could you?"
"O yes--it's a good deal broke up, nothing but picking and gadding stuff."
"Well, it does look encouraging, sure enough--but then the lacking indications--"
"I'd rather we had them, Mr. Sterling, but I've seen more than one good permanent mine struck without 'em in my time."
"Well, that is encouraging too."
"Yes, there was the Union, the Alabama and the Black Mohawk--all good, sound mines, you know--all just exactly like this one when we first struck them."
"Well, I begin to feel a good deal more easy. I guess we've really got it. I remember hearing them tell about the Black Mohawk."
"I'm free to say that I believe it, and the men all think so too. They are all old hands at this business."
"Come Harry, let's go up and look at it, just for the comfort of it," said Philip. They came back in the course of an hour, satisfied and happy.
There was no more sleep for them that night. They lit their pipes, put a specimen of the coal on the table, and made it a kind of loadstone of thought and conversation.
"Of course," said Harry, "there will have to be a branch track built, and a 'switch-back' up the hill."
"Yes, there will be no trouble about getting the money for that now. We could sell-out tomorrow for a handsome sum. That sort of coal doesn't go begging within a mile of a rail-road. I wonder if Mr. Bolton' would rather sell out or work it?"
"Oh, work it," says Harry, "probably the whole mountain is coal now you've got to it."
"Possibly it might not be much of a vein after all," suggested Philip.
"Possibly it is; I'll bet it's forty feet thick. I told you. I knew the sort of thing as soon as I put my eyes on it."
Philip's next thought was to write to his friends and announce their good fortune.