All these scenes were new to me.  I finally wondered why my partner did not return.  It was now nearing the time when I would have to leave so as to be at the shaft ready for work by 11 o'clock.  As I leaned over the railing looking down on the stage, a voice said, "Hello!"  I turned around in my chair and a young girl had parted the curtains and came in.  She smiled and said, "A fine show, ain't it?"  I said, "Yes."  With that she sat down in my lap.  She began to pet and smiled some more.  She was real young and nice looking.  She had on a light gauzy dress and looked as if she were a stage girl.  It was supposed that when a girl came to interest you that you would order champagne from the bar nearby.  It would cost about three dollars per glass.  She would receive a per cent from the drinks.  It was time now for me to treat or retreat.  I made up my mind to retreat, which I did.

As I passed the bar, several girls were standing near and they followed me to the top of the stairway saying, "Where are you going?"  I told them I was coming back again.  I was glad to get on the outside.  I suspicioned that Mr. BRISBANE had something to do with sending those girls to me.  I always had on my working clothes.  It was money those girls wanted.  Clothes made no impression on them.  Money was their sole object and the making of money was good in Leadville, but what a life!  Soon they fade.

I hurried back to my cabin and got ready to go to work in a short time.  What a change from music and laughter to the bottom of a gloomy and wet shaft for eight hours.  How lonesome! Your only companions are a pick and shovel and a stick of dynamite.  One month after BRISBANE left me at the theater, I accidentally met him on the street.  He was walking slowly and was looking very sick.  I asked him what was wrong and he told me he was so weak and sick and that he was going to his room.  He hinted to me that he had been going too fast since he came to Leadville.  I was sorry for him.  He was an engineer.  He had a good education and a home in Saginaw, Michigan.  He also had a wife and two small children.  His father, Gen. BRISBANE, took position hunting Indians for the U. S. Government who were implicated in Gen. CUSTER's massacre.  I tried to find out what became of Frank BRISBANE.  He passed out of my life.  I often wondered whatever became of him.

I went back to my cabin thinking about the uncertainty of health and life.  I decided that I ought to have another partner.  I had a half brother a few years younger than myself who was a coal miner in Mahanoy City, Pennsylvania.  I sent for him to come to Leadville.  I sent him a tracing to show him how to find my cabin on Stray Horse Gulch.  I was now working in a shaft called "Montana Load".  This was a very wet and dangerous shaft.  It had caved in several times on account of bad timbering.  On each shift there were two men.

A new man came to me and said, "Superintendent?"  I told him to work with me.  We both went down into the shaft in the same bucket.  With one hand you held your candle while the other grasped the rope attached to the bucket with one foot outside to guide it and to keep it from springing around and to keep the bucket from striking the timbers that were projecting out into the shaft.  I told my partner to hold fast to the rope with both hands.  He let his candle drop if he was not sure of one hand holt.  The wooden drum that dropped us down was not round and would suddenly let us go rapidly for twenty feet.  This was repeated all the way down.  If there was no swinging of the bucket or striking of timbers, it would not be so dangerous.

When we reached the bottom of the shaft and got out of the bucket my companion drew a long breath and did not speak.  If he did he knew it would be troublesome.  By the light of the candle I could see his pale face.  Breathing was difficult, caused by black damp.  We could not strike a match.  Only the best sperm candles would burn when dynamite was near.  Its fumes gave you a terrible headache.  My pard, as we called each other with only a slight acquaintance, told me he wanted to work so that he could send some money home to his parents in England.  I like the way he talked and I had a feeling that he would not be able to work his eight hours.  There was a space behind the timbers 150 feet up the shaft that at that place had caved in frequently.  Mud and small pieces of rock would fall down on our heads, causing a feeling that the shaft was closing in on us.  My pard said, "Let me go up.  It is too wet.  I am getting weak and can't work."  I signaled to the man on top to hoist slowly, man coming up.  Three rings.  We signaled by pulling a small rope attached to a clapper placed near the hoisting man.

I had no companion to work with me the next day.  After my day's work, I went to my cabin where my partner was and found him in his rough bed suffering from rheumatism.  I was sorry for him.  His hopes were not bright.  I do not know what became of him.