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WITH MEN WHO DO THINGS
[Aug.,
of the rock to catch these unexpected missiles. It seems odd, does n’t it, that the power back of those missiles was put there millions of years ago, when the rock was hot and began cooling and contracting.

By the time he finished talking, we reached the shaft and were carried up to the surface. Suddenly, a boom and a dull roar told us that the powder had done its job down there deep in the rock. We were anxious to see what the shot had accomplished, but we were not permitted to go in again.

“Don’t you know that the fumes of ‘shooting’ are poisonous?” asked the superintendent,

“But how about the men?” I asked. “Won’t it Kill them, too?

“We pump air in there to blow the fumes out. In about five minutes, they can go back and charge the ‘relief’ holes. But if you went in there, it would give you an awful headache. The men get used to it, but in time even they are liable to be overcome. By the way, you ought to see
A CONCRETE BULKHEAD IN THE TUNNEL 1100 FEET UNDER THE HUDSON RIVER.
how they stare dynamite in New York. It is interesting. The Bureau of Combustibles will not let any one keep a large quantity of explosives in the city, particularly in congested parts, but at each shaft they use from seven to eight hundred pounds of powder per day, so they have underground magazines hewn out of solid rock. When you get back to town, call un my friend Douglas, at Shaft 13, and he will show you one of the magazines and how it is constructed,”


Chapter XI

CAGING DYNAMITE

The shaft of which Mr. Douglas was the superintendent was the very one we had first seen in the park, and now, with him as our guide, we stepped into the cage and plunged down 250 feet below the surface. At one side of the tunnel, about one hundred feet from the shaft, there was a heavy mass of concrete with a low doorway in it, The opening was closed by a light, outer door, consisting of a wooden frame covered with chicken wire, alongside which a man stood on guard, Back of this there was a very massive door that was then ajar, at an angle of forty-five degrees; a pin in the floor kept it from opening any more than that. Mr, Douglas led us past these doors into a large passageway cut out of the solid rock. A few yards from the door the passageway turned abruptly, at right angles, to the left; then a few yards farther it made another turn, but to the right; a few paces more brought us to a large chamber that extended ta the left again, At each turn of the passageway, there was a pocket cut in the rock in the opposite direction from the turn, In the chamber, which measured about sixteen feet high and over thirty feet long by twenty-six feet wide, there were fifteen or twenty cases of dynamite, over which was a timber roof as a guard against any pieces of stone that might be dislodged from the rock overhead and fallon the powder.

“Did you ever smell dynamite?” said Mr. Donglas, picking up a stick and holding it under my nose, I jumped back in alarm. “Oh, it won’t hurt you!” he said reassuringly; “but if you smell of that sickish stuff awhile, it will give you a headache. Now if this powder should go off—" Mr. Douglas paused.

“Yes?” I said nervously.

“Oh, we do not expect such a thing ever to happen, but you never can quite tell about dynamite, If it is n’t perfectly fresh, it might go off if you sneezed upon it, You know dynamite is made of nitroglycerin and gelatin. When it is exposed to extremes of heat or cold and moisture, the glycerin separates from the gelatin, and col-