Prologue:1889 When he emerged from underground after hours of sweat-inducing toil, David Burnett couldn’t deny the protest of his back any longer. But two years over thirty, and his body gave him pain that he didn’t think he’d feel until he clamored out of bed as an old man. He knew the men who worked below ground beside him felt the same: not all tried to hide their cursing; others couldn’t hide deep, throaty coughs that demanded relief against brisk mountain air. He shook his head, having l...