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"Bell three, dammit. An' let us up out o' here. Hurry up, hell to you," and he drew the bell himself, and without waiting on the signal back from above, jumped into the cage, averting his face from those horrible eyes, which lay staring at him out of the darkness. "Chap it awa', man!" he yelled at the bottomer, his voice rising to a scream.
Walker, standing at the foot of the shaft waiting for the answering signal from above, heard the noise and the rush of Mag's body as it bumped from side to side in its mad descent, and starting back, he was just in time to get clear as the mangled mass of rags and blood and pulpy flesh fell with a loud splashy thud at the bottom, the blood spattering and "jauping" him and the bottomer, and blinding their eyes as it flew all over them.
"Chap it, an' let us up to hell oot o' this," and the bottomer, no less frightened than he, tore at the bell, and jumping in himself just as the cage began slowly to ascend, clung to the bar, shivering with terror. When Walker reached the surface, he was like a madman.
Besides his house, Amos Partridge had a large barn and a shop, where, in winter, he bottomed boots. The bottomer of boots sat on a low bench and did most of his work on his lap and knee.
The men ran the hutch to the "bottom" straight against the full tubs ready to be sent to the surface. "Come on, Sourocks, let us up," called Allan to the old man who acted as "bottomer." "Hell to the up will ye get!" replied the old fellow, "I'm gaun to put on these hutches first."
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