142- The Killer Mine

You, finding life, rather dull, dreaming again of exotic places, wishing you were somewhere else. We offer you escape. Escape with us now to England and the story of a hard rock miner, trapped in a deserted mine beneath the icy waters off the Cornish coast, as Hammond Innes tells it in his gripping tale, the Killer Mine.

The rain had stopped when I reached Transant just before dark. At the waterfront there were men dressed much the same as myself. In Siemens' jerseys, jacket. Nobody took any notice of me. And I suddenly felt at ease for the first time since I landed the name.

I lit a cigarette and fished out of my pocket with worn and dirty bit of note paper which bore Dave Tanner's address. Two harbor terrors, Prince Ants Cornwall. I read the note again. Dear Jim, I hear things aren't what they were in Italy.

If you're getting tired of it and want to change of air, I can fix you up with a job in England no questions asked. It's a mining job and right up your street your old chum day.

Hm. Now up to now I've been lucky. No questions have been asked. So I went to meet my old chum at number two, Harvard Terrace. Yes? Mr. Tanner in? Who? Tanner, Mr. Dave Tanner. Oh, nobody of that name lives here.

Oh, well, he's no friend of mine. I've come a long way to see him. Look, here's the letter he sent me. Oh, I'm sorry. Well, look. You don't have to be afraid. I'm not a cop.

He's a Welshman, dark here, and I. He's a bit of a limp. Oh, it's it. Maybe he's Mr. Jones, you're wanting. But he's not here now, either. You know when he'll be back? No, I...