Yates Hotel Joplin, Mo. March 18, 1916 The Day after St. Pat's
Dear Bess:
I am almost sober this Sunday morning. I looked long and hopefully for a letter but I guess that cross-eyed post-office girl is still holding out on me.
I had to come to Joplin yesterday evening to buy some supplies and look at a piece of machinery. Some day I hope to be able to quit buying and go to selling. Our mine (I finally got to it, you see) will be going I hope by Wednesday. It is getting better and better underground. Every shot shows up fine ore and we have a new vein in sight that will probably show up better than any yet. We won't work on it until later though because there is already enough in sight to keep us going for a month. We consider that we have a proposition worth sixty thousand dollars anyway. Our foreman says we have a much better mine than he expected to see when he went down in it. I have been in it twice this week. When we get to going good I want you to come down and ride the bucket to the bottom. It is iron and about three feet across and four deep. It goes round and round as it goes down. When I get to the bottom I can't tell north from straight up. We carry little carbide lamps that give about a penny's worth of light.
That's plenty though in a place of total darkness.
I sent you a package last night in place of the letter I promised to send. I am hoping to see a letter when I get back to Commerce this evening. When I see you next Sunday (it seems like next year) I hope to be able to tell you that we are going full blast and making ore so fast it makes our heads swim. It is now worth $115 a ton. Five tons a day soon amounts to something.
Send me a letter quickly. If you knew how badly I wanted one, you'd send it every day.
Sincerely, Harry