CHAPTER XI

Jimmy is Tricked by His Rival

In a moment Jimmy was in telephonic communication with his chief. “There has been a big coal mine disaster, Jimmy,” said Mr. Johnson. “We have just received a despatch from Shenandoah about it. The mine is near that city. More than one hundred men are believed to have been imprisoned in the mine. It is not known how many are dead or whether any of the entombed miners are still alive. We want as complete a story of the disaster as you can gather in a short time, and we particularly want photographs. You’ve got just about time enough to get there and get some photographs before dark. You can pick up your story after you get your pictures. Then hustle back here. If you make as good time as you have made on some other assignments, you can get back here before 10:30. You ought to make it by 11:00 for sure, and you _must_ be here by 11:15. I would send Handley with you, but he is in Phillipsburg on a story. I will try to get into touch with him by phone, and order him to go to Shenandoah, to follow up the story to-morrow.”

“I’ll do my best, Mr. Johnson,” said Jimmy. “Good-bye. I’m off.” And in less than no time he _was_ off.

The minute Jimmy had reached a safe altitude and was straightened out on his course, he began to consider how he should cover this story. He had never reported the story of a coal mine disaster. He was a little uncertain as to how to get at it.

First of all, there was the matter of topography. Shenandoah was in the very heart of the anthracite region in Pennsylvania. That meant it was right among the hills. Jimmy knew the region well. It was almost on the Air Mail route. In fact, in a straight line it was only three miles from Ringtown. But a great ridge—the North Mahanoy Mountain, that towered aloft almost 1,900 feet—rose between Ringtown and Shenandoah. The highway between the two places, circuitous and winding, was probably twice that distance. Jimmy was of course sure that he could make a landing at Ringtown. But whether he could do so at Shenandoah or not, he did not know. The town itself occupied almost every foot of the level land in the little bottom in which it stood. On every side the ground rose sharply.

Jimmy managed to get the proper topographic map from his map case. Folding it in small compass he studied it as he flew along. The only place where there seemed to be even the possibility of making a safe landing was in the tiny bottom along Lost Creek, southwest of the town. But the more Jimmy studied the map, the more impossible this place seemed for his purpose. Jimmy finally decided that he would not take a chance. He would land at Ringtown, get a motor car, and drive to Shenandoah.

“If Johnnie Lee is home,” thought Jimmy, “there won’t be a bit of trouble about that. Johnnie will take me over there in his car. That will be just the thing, too. Then he can help me cover the story. I can tell him what to do and he can do it readily enough. It will give him a start toward reporting. Johnnie will know the country round about, too, and that may be a very great advantage. For I see now that it is going to hustle me to get back on time. I’m sure glad this has turned out this way.”

A load seemed to drop from Jimmy’s mind. He had come to a decision as to his course. Now he had only to drive ahead as fast as possible along the way he had chosen. He felt his confidence growing.

Suddenly he heard his own name sounding in his head phones. “The New York _Press_ speaking to Jimmy Donnelly,” said the voice. “We have been in touch with Handley at Phillipsburg. He will go with you to Shenandoah. Land at Easton and wait for him. He is on the watch for you.”

Jimmy hardly knew whether to be pleased or sorry. He would be glad enough of Handley’s help. Even the two of them could not clean up the story in the short time Jimmy would have at the scene of the disaster. But now that Jimmy saw an opportunity to help his friend Johnnie Lee, he rather regretted that Handley was to join him. They could hardly bother with Johnnie now.

These thoughts went through Jimmy’s mind in an instant. They did not prevent him from answering promptly the _Morning Press_ message. He put his mouthpiece to his lips and said: “Jimmy Donnelly talking to the New York _Press_. I have your message about Handley and will wait for him at Easton.”

When Jimmy reached that city, it looked for a little time as though he would not be able to keep his word. It hardly seemed possible to make a landing. But west of the city Jimmy found some fields and got down safety, though he had a scare when he saw a fence loom up suddenly before him. His plane struck sand and came to a stop within ten feet of the fence.

Jimmy hopped out of the ship and looked about him. Handley was nowhere in sight. “He’ll have to come along pretty soon if we are to get the stuff back to New York in time,” thought Jimmy. “I wonder if there is anything I could do to help matters.”

He thought of Johnnie Lee. “If I could talk to him,” muttered Jimmy, “I could put him right to work.”

With Jimmy, to think was to act. Not far away was a house. Jimmy raced over to it, and was rejoiced to see that telephone wires ran to the house. He knocked at the door. A pleasant faced woman answered his knock.

“Good afternoon,” said Jimmy, politely. “I need very much to use a telephone. May I use yours?”

The woman looked him over. “I take it you are the pilot of the plane that just landed,” she said.

“I am,” said Jimmy, “and I am in a trying situation. It will help me greatly if I may use your phone.”

“Go ahead,” she said. “You are welcome. I’ll be glad if it will help you.”

Jimmy called for the long-distance operator and asked for the Lee home in Ringtown. He begged the operator to hurry the call, as it was an urgent one. In a very few moments Jimmy had his connection. To his delight, Johnnie himself answered the telephone. Jimmy recognized his voice at once.

“Hello, Johnnie,” he said. “This is Jimmy Donnelly. Have you heard anything about a mine explosion in your neighborhood?”

“We sure have,” said Johnnie. “It was near Krebs. It was a terrible affair.”

“Where’s Krebs?” demanded Jimmy.

“About two miles from here. It’s at the foot of North Mahanoy Mountain.”

“What do you know about the disaster, Johnnie?”

“A lot, Jimmy. My father’s first cousin, Pat Healy, telephoned us all about it. He’s a foreman in the mine, and was just on his way out when the explosion occurred. He got out all right, though he was hurt some. But he says there are scores of men entombed.”

“Can you get hold of him again, Johnnie?” cried Jimmy, his voice almost shaking with eagerness.

“Sure. He lives near us. Why?”

“It’s like this, Johnnie. I’m on my way out to cover this story. I’ve got to get pictures and as much of the story as I can pick up in a little while. But I had to land in Easton to pick up Mr. Handley. That’s going to delay me a lot. This is a chance for you to show what you can do in collecting news. Will you try it?”

“Will I? You bet your neck I will. What do you want me to do?”

“Have you got a camera?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Then get some pictures of the wrecked mine if you can, and of the mine entrance, injured miners, crowds at the shaft, or anything else that will illustrate the story.”

“I can do that easily. I can drive to the mouth of the mine in less than ten minutes. I’ll hustle right over and get all the pictures I can. Anything else?”

“Sure. Get the story. Get hold of your father’s cousin again. Find as many survivors as possible. See anybody you can who is in authority at the mine and get a statement from him. Get all the details you can.”

“Just what do you want, Jimmy?”

“Find out what happened, when it happened, where it happened, how it happened, why it happened, and to whom it happened. Get every detail you can about every phase of the story. Get the names of the dead and injured, if possible. Find out how many are still in the mine. Maybe Mr. Healy can tell you. Get a story of the explosion from him. Find out how it happened and what caused it. Get Mr. Healy to tell you about the mine itself—what it is like, whether there is any chance for rescue, whether there are places where the imprisoned men can take refuge in the mine. Ask all the questions you can think of. Try to get enough stuff together so you can tell me a complete story of the disaster when I get there.”

“I’ll do it, Jimmy. I’m off this minute. Good-bye.”

Jimmy said good-bye and rang off. “That was a lucky thought,” he muttered, “to set Johnnie to work. He’s evidently got the inside track. He may be able to get the whole story.”

Jimmy ascertained the amount of his tolls and paid the woman. She had heard his talk with Johnnie and was intensely interested. She asked Jimmy question after question about his work as a flying reporter. Before Jimmy knew it, half an hour had passed. Then he noticed a clock and frowned. He looked out at his plane. Some small boys had gathered about it, but there was no sign of Handley. Fifteen minutes more passed, and Jimmy was growing desperate. Finally he reached for the telephone again. “Please get me the New York _Morning Press_” he told the operator.

When Jimmy finally got his connection, he called for Mr. Johnson. “Have you any idea how long it is going to take Handley to reach me here at Easton?” he asked. “I’ve waited for him more than an hour already. I’ve got to push on if I am to get any photographs.”

“What’s this about Handley and Easton and waiting an hour? What are you talking about?” demanded the managing editor.

“What am I talking about!” exclaimed Jimmy. “I am talking about Handley. You ordered me to wait for him in Easton. I’ve been here at Easton for more than an hour. Can you give me any idea how soon he will arrive? I can’t possibly wait much longer if I am to get back with the story in time for the midnight edition.”

“You’re in Easton! Waiting for Handley! What are you talking about? I never ordered you to stop at Easton. You ought to be in Shenandoah this very minute.”

“You never ordered me to stop at Easton!” cried Jimmy. “Somebody did. I received a radio message forty minutes after I took off, telling me you had ordered Handley to join me here and ordering me to wait for him. I acknowledged the message and supposed you had my acknowledgment.”

“Somebody has put one over on you, Jimmy,” said the managing editor. “It’s a pretty bad business. But we have no time to discuss it now. Get on to Shenandoah as fast as you can and do the best you can. I want to see you about this as soon as you get back here. Now hustle.”

Jimmy was mortified, angry, and anxious. His face showed his anxiety. He paid his telephone tolls and raced back to his plane. As fast as he could, he got his ship into the air. Then he opened his throttle as far as it would open and went streaking along the Air Mail route for Ringtown.

In less than half an hour he dropped down on the landing field at that place. He leaped from his plane, threw off his flying togs, and raced for Johnnie Lee’s house. Johnnie’s mother met him at the door.

“Johnnie’s expecting you,” she said. “He called up a few minutes ago and said you should call him at Healy’s when you arrived. Come in. I’ll get the connection for you.” And in no time she had it. She asked for Johnnie and handed the receiver to Jimmy.

“Hello, Johnnie,” he said. “This is Jimmy. I just arrived at your house. Where are you? How can I get into touch with you?”

“I’m at Healy’s. It’s straight down the road. Mother will show you the way. Come over as quick as you can. Mr. Healy is talking to me now.”

Jimmy hung up the receiver, got directions from Mrs. Lee, and raced down the road. In ten minutes he was in the Healy home.

“What have you done and what have you learned?” Jimmy demanded, after Johnnie had introduced him to Mr. Healy.

“I went right over to the mine with my camera, after you called me, and I have a whole roll of films for you—a dozen pictures. They ought to be good, for the conditions were just right for taking them. I got a picture of the mine mouth, the crowd about it, some snaps of the rescue crews descending into the mine, one of an injured miner who was hurt in the attempt at rescue, and other similar pictures.”

“Good! They are just what I want. What about the story?”

“I believe I have the whole thing. Mr. Healy was in the mine when the explosion occurred. In fact, he was close to the very spot where it happened. He saw the explosion occur. He was injured slightly, but not disabled. He gathered together all the men within call and started for an old opening that is no longer used. The explosion had prevented escape through the shaft used nowadays. Gases began to spread through the mine, and the men with Mr. Healy were overcome one by one. Those still able to walk tried to drag the others out. But the only man who got out on his own feet was my cousin. He dragged out one man. Then he collapsed himself. He came to in about half an hour and managed to stagger home. He telephoned about the man he had dragged out, and some miners came and got him. We heard about it over the telephone, just before you called me from Easton.”

“Won’t you repeat your story to me, Mr. Healy?” asked Jimmy. “Just start at the beginning. Tell me what the conditions were like in the mine when the explosion came. That is, about how many men you think went into the mine, how many were still in it, and what the mine is like. Give me a mental picture of it, so I can follow your story. Then start again with the explosion and tell me what you saw and did.” For half an hour Mr. Healy talked steadily, stopping only when he was interrupted by Jimmy with a question. He gave Jimmy an excellent picture of the mine workings. Mr. Healy had been a foreman in this particular mine for years, and knew every foot of it as workers above ground know the cities in which they live. Then he told of the explosion, pictured the damage it did, showed how it shut off escape by the newer shaft, and pictured the situation of the imprisoned men. He estimated their number at more than one hundred.

“If the gas was as severe in other chambers as it was where we were,” he said, “most of those one hundred men are now dead. I have been using the telephone, and so far as I can learn, we two men who got out through the old drift are the only men who have escaped. Unless some of the miners were able to retreat to dead ends of passages, ahead of the gas, and make air-tight barricades to keep the gas out, I fear every man in the mine is past help. But we shall not know for sure until the rescue crews have searched every foot of the workings. That will take many hours, and perhaps some days.”

Jimmy checked back over his notes. His story seemed to be very complete. He asked for a few more details about this point or that. Then he thrust his notes into his pocket. “You have given me a very complete account, Mr. Healy,” he said. “I can write a mighty clear story just from these notes. But I must see the mine myself, and the mine mouth, and the crowds, and if possible I must talk with some of the officials. You don’t feel well enough to go over there with me, do you?”

“Yes, I am all right now,” said Mr. Healy. “I’ll be glad to go with you.”

They hurried out to Johnnie’s car and were rushed over to the mouth of the mine, which was hardly more than a mile distant. Parking the car, the three walked about through the crowd, observing, asking questions, gathering up what incidents they could.

“There’s the superintendent,” said Mr. Healy, as a large man came out of one of the mine buildings. “Would you like to talk to him?”

“I surely would,” answered Jimmy.

“Then come on.”

They walked toward the man. While they were still at some distance from him, they saw a young man hurry up to him and lay a detaining hand on his arm. The superintendent looked surprised. The young man said something. The superintendent brushed him roughly aside and went on. He seemed angry. He was still frowning when he came face to face with Mr. Healy and the two lads.

“Pat, I’m mighty glad to see you,” said the superintendent, “but I am mighty sad to see you alone. I fear it’s all up with the men underground.”

“This young man wants to talk to you,” said Mr. Healy. “He’s a reporter from New York.”

“So was that jackass that just tried to stop me,” said the superintendent. “I don’t want to talk to reporters.”

“But this lad is a very good friend of mine,” urged Mr. Healy. “And he is a gentleman. I know you will be willing to talk to him.”

“Well, what is it?” said the superintendent. “I haven’t much time to spare. This is a crowded hour for me.”

“Thank you very much,” said Jimmy. “I know how you feel. I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about this terrible affair. I appreciate your courtesy.” Then Jimmy began to ask questions, in a courteous, considerate manner. The mine official gave him all the information he asked for.

When the interview was ended, the superintendent walked on. So did the Healy party.

Presently Jimmy heard a voice saying: “There he is. He’s the only man who escaped unaided. He dragged out another man, and they are the only men who have reached the surface so far.”

“I’ll get a statement from him,” replied another voice.

Jimmy knew this latter voice well—too well. He began to tremble with anger. A sudden light shone in upon him. Now he understood the game that had been played upon him. Now he knew who had tricked him into landing at Easton. The voice he was listening to was the voice of Rand.

Like a shot Jimmy turned to Johnnie. “If you think anything of me, Johnnie,” he said, “don’t let your cousin talk to the fellow who is coming to interview him. It’s Rand, the fellow I have told you about. It was Rand who stopped the superintendent a little while ago, though at a distance I did not recognize him. But I know well enough now who it was.”

Johnnie laid his hand on Mr. Healy’s arm. “Pat,” he said, “this fellow who is approaching to talk to you is Jimmy’s worst enemy. He has just played a dirty trick on him. Don’t say a word to him.”

“Played a dirty trick on Jimmy, did he? Very well. He gets no news from me.”

A moment later Rand stepped up and began to question the mine foreman. “I have nothing to say. See the superintendent,” snapped Mr. Healy. And turning on his heel, he strode away, with Johnnie and Jimmy at his heels.

But as Jimmy walked away, he said: “Rand, dirty tricks don’t pay. You thought you had put over a clever one when you got me down at Easton to-day, but your game failed. This is what came of it. You lose out yourself.” And Jimmy hurried after Mr. Healy and Johnnie, while Rand stood and cursed him. “I’ll get you yet,” Jimmy heard him say. But Jimmy wasn’t caring about Rand’s threats. He held all the aces in the pack himself.