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KING COAL
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS
ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED
LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD,
TORONTO
KING COAL
A NOVEL
BY
Renie
UPTON SINCLAIR
UPTON SİÁCLAIR
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
DR. GEORG BRANDES
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1917
All rights reserved
Undergraduate
tibracy
PS
3537
185
K52
C
ombo
COPYRIGHT 1917
BY UPTON SINCLAIR
COPYRIGHT 1917
BY MISHA APPELBAUM
COPYRIGHT 1917
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Sot up and electrotyped. Published, September, 1917.
Reprinted September, 1917.
1295213.
-250
tr. to GRAD 04-31-09
TO
MARY CRAIG KIMBROUGH
To whose persistence in the perilous task of
tearing her husband's manuscript to pieces,
the reader is indebted for the absence
of most of the faults from this book
CONTENTS
BOOK ONE
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL . . .
PAGE
.
. .
.
1
BOOK TWO
THE SERFS OF KING COAL.
RFS O
AL.
BOOK THREE
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL . . . . . . 203
BOOK FOUR
THE WILL OF KING COAL . . . . . . . . 285
INTRODUCTION
UPTON SINCLAIR is one of the not too many writers who
have consecrated their lives to the agitation for social jus-
tice, and who have also enrolled their art in the service of a
set purpose. A great and non-temporizing enthusiast, he
never flinched from making sacrifices. Now and then he
attained great material successes as a writer, but invariably
he invested and lost his earnings in enterprises by which he
had hoped to ward off injustice and to further human hap-
piness. Though disappointed time after time, he never
lost faith nor courage to start again.
As a convinced socialist and eager advocate of unpopular
doctrines, as an exposer of social conditions that would
otherwise be screened away from the public eye, the most
influential journals of his country were as a rule arraigned
against him. Though always a poor man, though never
willing to grant to publishers the concessions essential for
many editions and general popularity, he was maliciously
represented to be a carpet knight of radicalism and a socialist
millionaire. He has several times been obliged to change his
publisher, which goes to prove that he is no seeker of ma-
terial gain.
Upton Sinclair is one of the writers of the present time
most deserving of a sympathetic interest. He shows his
patriotism as an American, not by joining in hymns to the
very conditional kind of liberty peculiar to the United States,
but by agitating for infusing it with the elixir of real liberty,
the liberty of humanity. He does not limit himself to a dis-
passionate and entertaining description of things as they are.
But in his appeals to the honour and good-fellowship of his
Op several times of radicalis was malicion for
INTRODUCTION
compatriots, he opens their eyes to the appalling conditions
under which wage-earning slaves are living by the hundreds
of thousands. His object is to better these unnatural con-
ditions, to obtain for the very poorest a glimpse of light and
A
well-being and the comfort of knowing that justice is to be
found also for them.
This time Upton Sinclair has absorbed himself in the study
of the miner's life in the lonesome pits of the Rocky Moun-
tains, and his sensitive and enthusiastic mind has brought to
the world an American parallel to GERMINAL, Emile Zola's
technical masterpiece.
The conditions described in the two books are, however,
essentially different. While Zola's working-men are all
natives of France, one meets in Sinclair's book a motley
variety of European emigrants, speaking a Babel of languages
and therefore debarred from forming some sort of association
to protect themselves against being exploited by the anony-
mous limited Company. Notwithstanding this natural bar
against united action on the part of the wage-earning slaves,
the Company feels far from at ease and jealously guards its
interests against any attempt of organising the men.
A young American of the upper class, with great sympathy
for the downtrodden and an honest desire to get a first-hand
knowledge of their conditions in order to help them, decides
to take employment in a mine under a fictitious name and
dressed like a working-man. His unusual way of trying to
obtain work arouses suspicion. He is believed to be a pro-
fessional strike-leader sent out to organise the miners against
their exploiters, and he is not only refused work, but thrashed
mercilessly. When finally he succeeds in getting inside, he
discovers with growing indignation the shameless and in-
human way in which those who unearth the black coal are
being exploited.
These are the fundamental ideas of the book, but they
give but a faint notion of the author's poetic attitude. Most
INTRODUCTION
beautifully is this shown in Hal's relation to a young Irish
girl, Red Mary. She is poor, and her daily life harsh and
joyless, but nevertheless her wonderful grace is one of the
outstanding features of the book. The first impression of
Mary is that of a Celtic Madonna with a tender heart for
little children. She develops into a Valküre of the working-
class, always ready to fight for the worker's right.
The last chapters of the book give a description of the
miners' revolt against the Company. They insist upon
their right to choose a deputy to control the weighing-in
of the coal, and upon having the mines sprinkled regularly
to prevent explosion. They will also be free to buy their
food and utensils wherever they like, even in shops not
belonging to the Company.
In a postscript Sinclair explains the fundamental facts
on which his work of art has been built up. Even without
the postscript one could not help feeling convinced that the
social conditions he describes are true to life. The main
point is that Sinclair has not allowed himself to become
inspired by hackneyed phrases that bondage and injustice
and the other evils and crimes of Kingdoms have been
banished from Republics, but that he is earnestly point-
ing to the honeycombed ground on which the greatest
modern money-power has been built. The fundament
of this power is not granite, but mines. It lives and breathes
in the light, because it has thousands of unfortunates toiling
in the darkness. It lives and has its being in proud liberty
because thousands are slaving for it, whose thraldom is the
price of this liberty.
This is the impression given to the reader of this exciting
novel.
GEORG BRANDES.
BOOK ONE
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
KING COAL
imit of clothes, new merchants a blue shirt
§ 1. The town of Pedro stood on the edge of the moun-
tain country; a straggling assemblage of stores and saloons
from which a number of branch railroads ran up into
the canyons, feeding the coal-camps. Through the week
it slept peacefully; but on Saturday nights, when the
miners came trooping down, and the ranchmen came in on
horseback and in automobiles, it wakened to a seething
life.
Āt the railroad station, one day late in June, a young
man alighted from a train. He was about twenty-one
years of age, with sensitive features, and brown hair hav-
ing a tendency to waviness. He wore a frayed and faded
suit of clothes, purchased in a quarter of his home city
where the Hebrew merchants stand on the sidewalks to
offer their wares; also a soiled blue shirt without a tie,
and a pair of heavy boots which had seen much service.
Strapped on his back was a change of clothing and a
blanket, and in his pockets a comb, a toothbrush, and a
small pocket mirror.
Sitting in the smoking-car of the train, the young man
had listened to the talk of the coal-camps, seeking to cor-
rect his accent. When he got off the train he proceeded
down the track and washed his hands with cinders, and
lightly powdered some over his face. After studying the
effect of this in his mirror, he strolled down the main
street of Pedro, and, selecting a little tobacco-shop, went
in. In as surly a voice as he could muster, he inquired
of the proprietress, “ Can you tell me how to get to the
Pine Creek mine?"
KING COAL
The woman looked at him with no suspicion in her
glance. She gave the desired information, and he took a
trolley and got off at the foot of the Pine Creek canyon, up
which he had a thirteen-mile trudge. It was a sunshiny
day, with the sky crystal clear, and the mountain air
invigourating. The young man seemed to be happy, and
as he strode on his way, he sang a song with many verses :
“Old King Coal was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
He made him a college all full of knowledge
Hurrah for you and me!
“Oh, Liza-Ann, come out with me,
The moon is a-shinin' in the monkey-puzzle tree;
Oh, Liza-Ann, I have began
To sing you the song of Harrigan!!,
“He keeps them a-roll, this merry old soul
The wheels of industree;
And his college facultee!
“Oh, Mary-Jane, come out in the lane,
The moon is a-shinin' in the old pecan;
Oh, Mary-Jane, don't you hear me a-sayin'
I'll sing you the song of Harrigan!?
“ So hurrah for King Coal, and his fat pay-roll,
And his wheels of industree!
Hurrah for his pipe, and hurrah for his bowl -
And hurrah for you and me!
“Oh, Liza-Ann, come out with me,
The moon is a-shinin'-"
And so on and on — as long as the moon was a-shinin'
on a college campus. It was a mixture of happy non-
sense and that questioning with which modern youth has
begun to trouble its elders. As a marching tune, the song
was a trifle swift for the grades of a mountain canyon;
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
but Hal Warner could stop and shout to the canyon-walls,
and listen to their answer, and then march on again. He
had youth in his heart, and love and curiosity; also he
had some change in his trousers' pocket, and a ten dollar
bill, for extreme emergencies, sewed up in his belt. If a
photographer for Peter Harrigan's General Fuel Com-
pany could have got a snap-shot of him that morning, it
might have served as a “portrait of a coal-miner" in any
“prosperity” publication.
But the climb was a stiff one, and before the end the
traveller became aware of the weight of his boots, and sang
no more. Just as the sun was sinking up the canyon, he
came upon his destination - a gate across the road, with a
sign upon it:
PINE CREEK COAL CO.
PRIVATE PROPERTY
TRESPASSING FORBIDDEN
Hal approached the gate, which was of iron bars, and
padlocked. After standing for a moment to get ready his
surly voice, he kicked upon the gate and a man came out
of a shack inside.
“ What do you want?” said he.
“I want to get in. I'm looking for a job."
“ Where do you come from?"
“From Pedro."
" Where you been working?"
“I never worked in a mine before."
“Where did you work?"
“In a grocery-store."
“What grocery-store?”
“Peterson & Co., in Western City."
The guard came closer to the gate and studied him
through the bars.
“Hey, Bill!” he called, and another man came out from
KING COAL
the cabin. “Here's a guy says he worked in a grocery,
and he's lookin' for a job."
“Where's your papers ?" demanded Bill.
Every one had told Hal that labour was scarce in the
mines, and that the companies were ravenous for men; he
had supposed that a workingman would only have to knock,
and it would be opened unto him. “They didn't give me
no papers,” he said, and added, hastily, “I got drunk and
they fired me.” He felt quite sure that getting drunk
would not bar one from a coal camp.
But the two made no move to open the gate. The sec-
ond man studied him deliberately from top to toe, and
Hal was uneasily aware of possible sources of suspicion.
“I'm all right,” he declared. “Let me in, and I'll show
1
you."
Still the two made no move. They looked at each other,
and then Bill answered, “We don't need no hands."
“But,” exclaimed Hal, “I saw a sign down the çan-
yon "
“ That's an old sign," said Bill.
“But I walked all the way up here!”
“ You'll find it easier walkin' back.”
“But - it's night!”.
“Scared of the dark, kid?" inquired Bill, facetiously.
“Oh, say!” replied Hal. “Give a fellow a chance !
Ain't there some way I can pay for my keep — or at least
for a bunk to-night?”
“There's nothin' for you," said Bill, and turned and
went into the cabin.
The other man waited and watched, with a decidedly
hostile look. Hal strove to plead with him, but thrice he
repeated, “Down the canyon with you.” So at last Hal.
gave up, and moved down the road a piece and sat down
to reflect.
It really seemed an absurdly illogical proceeding, to
post a notice, “ Hands Wanted,” in conspicuous places on
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
could persuter of a mile, ton. A train of
the roadside, causing a man to climb thirteen miles up a
mountain canyon, only to be turned off without explana-
tion. Hal was convinced that there must be jobs inside
the stockade, and that if only he could get at the bosses he
could persuade them. He got up and walked down the
road a quarter of a mile, to where the railroad-track crossed
it, winding up the canyon. A train of "empties” was
passing, bound into the camp, the cars rattling and bump-
ing as the engine toiled up the grade. This suggested a
solution of the difficulty.
It was already growing dark. Crouching slightly, Hal
approached the cars, and when he was in the shadows,
made a leap and swung onto one of them. It took but a
second to clamber in, and he lay flat and waited, his heart
thumping.
Before a minute had passed he heard a shout, and look-
ing over, he saw the Cerberus of the gate running down a
path to the track, his companion, Bill, just behind him.
“Hey! come out of there!” they yelled ; and Bill leaped,
and caught the car in which Hal was riding.
The latter saw that the game was up, and sprang to the
ground on the other side of the track and started out of the
camp. Bill followed him, and as the train passed, the
other man ran down the track to join him. Hal was walk-
ing rapidly, without a word; but the Cerberus of the gate
had many words, most of them unprintable, and he seized
Hal by the collar, and shoving him violently, planted a
kick upon that portion of his anatomy which nature has
constructed for the reception of kicks. Hal recovered his
balance, and, as the man was still pursuing him, he turned
and aimed a blow, striking him on the chest and making
him reel.
Hal's big brother had seen to it that he knew how to use
his fists; he now squared off, prepared to receive the second
of his assailants. But in coal-camps matters are not set-
tled in that primitive way, it appeared. The man halted,
KING COAL
and the muzzle of a revolver came suddenly under Hal's
nose. “ Stick 'em up!” said the man.
This was a slang which Hal had never heard, but the
meaning was inescapable; he “stuck 'em up.” At the
same moment his first assailant rushed at him, and dealt
him a blow over the eye which sent him sprawling back-
ward upon the stones.
§ 2. When Hal came to himself again he was in dark-
ness, and was conscious of agony from head to toe. He
was lying on a stone floor, and he rolled over, but soon
rolled back again, because there was no part of his back
which was not sore. Later on, when he was able to study
himself, he counted over a score of marks of the heavy
boots of his assailants.
He lay for an hour or two, making up his mind that
he was in a lock-up, because he could see the starlight
through iron bars. He could hear somebody snoring, and
he called half a dozen times, in a louder and louder voice,
until at last, hearing a growl, he inquired, “ Can you
give me a drink of water?”
“I'll give you hell if you wake me up again," said the
voice; after which Hal lay in silence until morning.
: A couple of hours after daylight, a man entered his cell.
“Get up," said he, and added a prod with his foot. Hal
had thought he could not do it, but he got up.
“No funny business now,” said his jailer, and grasping
him by the sleeve of his coat, marched him out of the cell
and down a little corridor into a sort of office, where sat a
red-faced personage with a silver shield upon the lapel of
his coat. Hal's two assailants of the night before stood
nearby.
“Well, kid ?" said the personage in the chair. “Had
a little time to think it over?”
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
“Yes,” said Hal, briefly.
“What's the charge?” inquired the personage, of the
two watchmen.
“ Trespassing and resisting arrest."
“How much money you got, young fellow?” was the
next question.
Hal hesitated.
“ Speak up there!” said the man.
“ Two dollars and sixty-seven cents," said Hal —"as
well as I can remember.”
“Go on!” said the other. «What you givin' us?”
And then, to the two watchmen, “ Search him.”
“Take off your coat and pants,” said Bill, promptly,
“and your boots.”
“Oh, I say ! ” protested Hal.
“ Take 'em off !” said the man, and clenched his fists.
Hal took 'em off, and they proceeded to go through the
pockets, producing a purse with the amount stated, also a
cheap watch, a strong pocket knife, the tooth-brush, comb
and mirror, and two white handkerchiefs, which they
looked at contemptuously and tossed to the spittle-drenched.
floor.
They unrolled the pack, and threw the clean clothing
about. Then, opening the pocket-knife, they proceeded
to pry about the soles and heels of the boots, and to cut
open the lining of the clothing. So they found the ten
dollars in the belt, which they tossed onto the table with
the other belongings. Then the personage with the shield
announced, “I fine you twelve dollars and sixty-seven
cents, and your watch and knife.” He added, with a
grin, “ You can keep your snot-rags."
"Now see here!” said Hal, angrily. “This is pretty
raw!"
“You get your duds on, young fellow, and get out of
here as quick as you can, or you'll go in your shirt-tail.”
But Hal was angry enough to have been willing to go
here
soleme clothes to personars aladdeo
ough to have your shine out of
10
KING COAL
in his skin. “You tell me who you are, and your au-
thority for this procedure?”
“I'm marshal of the camp," said the man.
“You mean you’re-an-employé_of-the--General Fuel
Company? And you propose to rob me.
*" Put him out, Bill,” said the marshal. And Hal saw
Bill's fists clench.
“All right," he said, swallowing his indignation.
“Wait till I get my clothes on.” And he proceeded to
dress as quickly as possible; be rolled up his blanket and
spare clothing, and started for the door.
“Remember," said the marshal, “straight down the
canyon with you, and if you show your face round here
again, you'll get a bullet through you.”
So Hal went out into the sunshine, with a guard on
each side of him as an escort. He was on the same moun-
tain road, but in the midst of the company-village. In
the distance he saw the great building of the breaker,
and heard the incessant roar of machinery and falling
coal. He marched past a double lane of company houses
and shanties, where slattern women in doorways and dirty
children digging in the dust of the roadside paused and
grinned at him — for he limped as he walked, and it was
evident enough what had happened to him.
Hal had come with love and curiosity. The love was
greatly diminished -- evidently this was not the force
which kept the wheels of industry a-roll. But the curi-
osity was greater than ever. What was there so care-
fully hidden inside this coal-camp stockade?
Hal turned and looked at Bill, who had showed signs
of humour the day before. “See here,” said he, “ you
fellows have got my money, and you've blacked my eye
and kicked me blue, so you ought to be satisfied. Before
I go, tell me about it, won't you?”
Tell you what?" growled Bill.
“Why did I get this?”
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
11
“Because you're too gay, kid. Didn't you know you
had no business trying to sneak in here?”
“Yes,” said Hal; « but that's not what I mean. Why
didn't you let me in at first?”
“If you wanted a job in a mine," demanded the man,
“why didn't you go at it in the regular way?”
“I didn't know the regular way."
“ That's just it. And we wasn't takin' chances with
you. You didn't look straight.”
“But what did you think I was? What are you
afraid of?”
“Go on!” said the man. “You can't work me!”
Hal walked a few steps in silence, pondering how to
break through. “I see you're suspicious of me,” he
said. “I'll tell you the truth, if you'll let me." Then,
as the other did not forbid him, “ I'm a college boy, and
I wanted to see life and shift for myself a while. I
thought it would be a lark to come here."
“Well,” said Bill, “ this ain't no foot-ball field. It's
a coal-mine."
Hal saw that his story had been accepted. “Tell me
straight,” he said, “what did you think I was?”
“Well, I don't mind telling," growled Bill. .“ There's
union agitators trying to organise these here camps, and
we ain't taking no chances with 'em. This company gets
its men through agencies, and if you'd went and satisfied
them, you'd 'a' been passed in the regular way. Or if
you'd went to the office down in Pedro and got a pass,
you'd 'a' been all right. But when a guy turns up at the
gate, and looks like a dude and talks like a college per-
fessor, he don't get by, see?”
“I see," said Hal. And then, “If you'll give me the
price of a breakfast out of my money, I'll be obliged.”
“ Breakfast is over," said Bill. «You sit round till
the pinyons gets ripe.” He laughed; but then, mellowed
by his own joke, he took a quarter from his pocket and
yoon
you'd agencies, anath 'em. Thiere camps, and
12
KING COAL
passed it to Hal. He opened the padlock on the gate and
saw him out with a grin; and so ended Hal's first turn
on the wheels of industry.
§ 3. Hal Warner started to drag himself down the
road, but was unable to make it. He got as far as a
brooklet that came down the mountain-side, from which
he might drink without fear of typhoid; there he lay the
whole day, fasting. Towards evening a thunder-storm
came up, and he crawled under the shelter of a rock, which
was no shelter at all. His single blanket was soon soaked
through, and he passed a night almost as miserable as
the previous one. He could not sleep, but he could think,
and he thought about what had happened to him. “Bill ”
had said that a coal mine was not a foot-ball field, but it
seemed to Hal that the net impress of the two was very
much the same. He congratulated himself that his pro-
fession was not that of a union organiser.
At dawn he dragged himself up, and continued his
journey, weak from cold and unaccustomed lack of food.
In the course of the day he reached a power-station near
the foot of the canyon. He did not have the price of a
meal, and was afraid to beg; but in one of the group of
buildings by the roadside was a store, and he entered and
inquired concerning prunes, which were twenty-five cents
a pound. The price was high, but so was the altitude,
and as Hal found in the course of time, they explained
the one by the other -- not explaining, however, why the
altitude of the price was always greater than the altitude
of the store. Over the counter he saw a sign: “We buy
scrip at ten per cent discount.” He had heard rumours
of a state law forbidding payment of wages in “scrip”;
but he asked no questions, and carried off his very light
pound of prunes, and sat down by the roadside and
munched them.
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
13
Just beyond the power-house, down on the railroad
track, stood a little cabin with a garden behind it. He
made his way there, and found a one-legged old watchman.
He asked permission to spend the night on the floor of the
cabin; and seeing the old fellow look at his black eye, he
explained, “I tried to get a job at the mine, and they
thought I was a union organiser."
“Well," said the man, “I don't want no union organ-
isers round here."
“But I'm not one," pleaded Hal.
“How do I know what you are? Maybe you're a com-
pany spy."
“All I want is a dry place to sleep," said Hal.
“Surely it won't be any harm for you to give me that.”
“I'm not so sure,” the other answered. “However,
you can spread your blanket in the corner. But don't
you talk no union business to me."
Hal had no desire to talk. He rolled himself in his
blanket and slept like a man untroubled by either love or
curiosity. In the morning the old fellow gave him a
slice of corn bread and some young onions out of his
garden, which had a more delicious taste than any break-
fast that had ever been served him. When Hal thanked
his host in parting, the latter remarked: “All right,
young fellow, there's one thing you can do to pay me, and
that is, say nothing about it. When a man has grey
hair on his head and only one leg, he might as well be
drowned in the creek as lose his job.”
Hal promised, and went his way. His bruises pained
him less, and he was able to walk. There were ranch-
houses in sight - it was like coming back suddenly to
America!
§ 4. Hal had now before him a week's adventures as
a hobo: a genuine hobo, with no ten dollar bill inside his
belt to take the reality out of his experiences. He took
14
KING COAL
meeded before clim was the name as a black-eyed anes and
stock of his worldly goods and wondered if he still looked
like a dude. He recalled that he had a smile which had
fascinated the ladies; would it work in combination with
a black eye? Having no other means of support, he tried
it on susceptible looking housewives, and found it so suc-
cessful that he was tempted to doubt the wisdom of honest
labour. He sang the Harrigan song no more, but instead
the words of a hobo-song he had once heard:
“Oh, what's the use of workin' when there's women
in the land ?"
The second day he made the acquaintance of two other
gentlemen of the road, who sat by the railroad-track toast-
ing some bacon over a fire. They welcomed him, and
after they had heard his story, adopted him into the fra-
ternity and instructed him in its ways of life. Pretty
soon he made the acquaintance of one who had been a
miner, and was able to give him the information he
needed before climbing another canyon.
“Dutch Mike” was the name this person bore, for
reasons he did not explain. He was a black-eyed and dan-
gerous-looking rascal, and when the subject of mines and
mining was broached, he opened up the flood-gates of an
amazing reservoir of profanity. He was through with
that game - Hal or any other God-damned fool might
have his job for the asking. It was only because there
were so many natural-born God-damned fools in the world
that the game could be kept going. “Dutch Mike” went
on to relate dreadful tales of mine-life, and to summon
before him the ghosts of one pit-boss after another, con-
signing them to the fires of eternal perdition.
“I wanted to work while I was young," said he, “but
now I'm cured, an' fer good.” The world had come to
seem to him a place especially constructed for the purpose
of making him work, and every faculty he possessed was
devoted to foiling this plot. Sitting by a camp-fire near
the stream which ran down the valley, Hal had a merry
of one pit-o perdition..he, “but
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
15
time pointing out to “Dutch Mike "how he worked harder
at dodging work than other men worked at working. The
hobo did not seem to mind that, however — it was à mat-
ter of principle with him, and he was willing to make
sacrifices for his convictions. Even when they had sent
hin to the work-house, he had refused to work; he had
been shut in a dungeon, and had nearly died on a diet
of bread and water, rather than work. If everybody
would do the same, he said, they would soon“ bust things.”
Hal took a fancy to this spontaneous revolutionist, and
travelled with him for a couple of days, in the course of
which he pumped him as to details of the life of a miner.
Most of the companies used regular employment agencies,
as the guard had mentioned; but the trouble was, these
agencies got something from your pay for a long time
the bosses were “in cahoots " with them. When Hal won-
dered if this were not against the law, “ Cut it out, Bo!”
said his companion. “When you've had a job for a while,
you'll know that the law in a coal-camp is what your boss
tells you.” The hobo went on to register his conviction
that when one man has the giving of jobs, and other men
have to scramble for them, the law would never have much
to say in the deal. Hal judged this a profound observa-
tion, and wished that it might be communicated to the
professor of political economy at Harrigan.
On the second night of his acquaintance with “ Dutch
Mike,” their “jungle” was raided by a constable with
half a dozen deputies; for a determined effort was being
made just then to drive vagrants from the neighbourhood
— or to get them to work in the mines. Hal's friend, who
slept with one eye open, made a break in the darkness, and
Hal followed him, getting under the guard of the raiders
by a foot-ball trick. They left their food and blankets
behind them, but “ Dutch Mike” made light of this, and
lifted a chicken from a roost to keep them cheerful through
the night hours, and stole a change of underclothing off a
16
KING COAL
clothes-line the next day. Hal ate the chicken, and wore
the underclothing, thus beginning his career in crime.
Parting from “ Dutch Mike," he went back to Pedro.
The hobo had told him that saloon-keepers nearly always
had friends in the coal-camps, and could help a fellow to
a job. So Hal began enquiring, and the second one re-
plied, Yes, he would give him a letter to a man at North
Valley, and if he got the job, the friend would deduct a
dollar a month from his pay. Hal agreed, and set out
upon another tramp up another canyon, upon the strength
of a sandwich “ bummed ” from a ranch-house at the en-
trance to the valley. At another stockaded gate of the
General Fuel Company he presented his letter, addressed
to a person named O'Callahan, who turned out also to be
a saloon-keeper.
The guard did not even open the letter, but passed Hal
in at sight of it, and he sought out his man and applied
for work. The man said he would help him, but would
have to deduct a dollar a month for himself, as well as a
dollar for his friend in Pedro. Hal kicked at this, and
they bartered back and forth; finally, when Hall turned
away and threatened to appeal directly to the “super,"
the saloon-keeper compromised on a dollar and a half.
“You know mine-work?” he asked.
“ Brought up at it,” said Hal, made wise, now, in the
ways of the world.
Ć Where did you work ?"
Hal named several mines, concerning which he had
learned something from the hoboes. He was going by the
name of “ Joe Smith,” which he judged likely to be found
on the payroll of any mine. He had more than a week's
growth of beard to disguise him, and had picked up some
profanity as well.
The saloon-keeper took him to interview Mr. Alec Stone,
pit-boss in Number Two mine, who inquired promptly:
* You know anything about mules ? "
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
17
“I worked in a stable,” said Hal, “I know about
horses.”
“Well, mules is different," said the man. “One of my
stable-men got the colic the other day, and I don't know if
he'll ever be any good again.”
“Give me a chance," said Hal. “I'll manage them.”
The boss looked him over. “You look like a bright
chap," said he. “I'll pay you forty-five a month, and if
you make good I'll make it fifty.”
« All right, sir. When do I start in?”
“ You can't start too quick to suit me. Where's your
duds ?"
“ This is all I've got,” said Hal, pointing to the bundle
of stolen underwear in his hand.
“Well, chuck it there in the corner," said the man;
then suddenly he stopped, and looked at Hal, frowning.
“ You belong to any union?”
“ Lord, no!”
“ Did you ever belong to any union ?”
“No, sir. Never.”
The man's gaze seemed to imply that Hal was lying,
and that his secret soul was about to be read. “You have
to swear to that, you know, before you can work here."
.“ All right," said Hal, “I'm willing."
“I'll see you about it to-morrow," said the other. “I
ain't got the paper with me. By the way, what's your
religion?"
"Seventh Day Adventist."
“ Holy Christ! What's that?"
“It don't hurt," said Hal. “I ain't supposed to work
on Saturdays, but I do."
“Well, don't you go preachin' it round here. We got
our own preacher - you chip in fifty cents a month for
him out of your wages. Come ahead now, and I'll take
you down." And so it was that Hal got his start in
life.
18
KING COAL
§ 5. The mule is notoriously a profane and godless
creature; a blind alley of Nature, so to speak, a mistake
of which she is ashamed, and which she does not permit
to reproduce itself. The thirty mules under Hal's charge
had been brought up in an environment calculated to fos-
ter the worst tendencies of their natures. He soon made
the discovery that the “colic” of his predecessor had been
caused by a mule's hind foot in the stomach; and he re-
alised that he must not let his mind wander for an instant,
if he were to avoid this dangerous disease.
These mules lived their lives in the darkness of the
earth’s interior; only when they fell sick were they taken
up to see the sunlight and to roll about in green pastures.
There was one of them called “ Dago Charlie,” who had
learned to chew tobacco, and to rummage in the pockets
of the miners and their “ buddies.” Not knowing how to
spit out the juice, he would make himself ill, and then
he would swear off from indulgence. But the drivers and
the pit-boys knew his failing, and would tempt “Dago
Charlie" until he fell from grace. Hal soon discovered
this moral tragedy, and carried the pain of it in his soul
as he went about his all-day drudgery..
He went down the shaft with the first cage, which was
very early in the morning. He fed and watered his
charges, and helped to harness them. Then, when the
last four hoofs had clattered away, he cleaned out the
stalls, and mended harness, and obeyed the orders of any
person older than himself who happened to be about.
Next to the mules, his torment was the “ trapper-boys,"
and other youngsters with whom he came into contact.
He was a newcomer, and so they hazed him; moreover, he
had an inferior job there seemed to their minds to be
something humiliating and comic about the task of tend-
ing mules. These urchins came from a score of nations
of Southern Europe and Asia; there were flat-faced Tar-
tars and swarthy Greeks and shrewd-eyed little Japanese.
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
They spoke a compromise language, consisting mainly of
English curse words and obscenities; the filthiness which
their minds had spawned was incredible to one born and
raised in the sunlight. They alleged obscenities of their
mothers and their grandmothers; also of the Virgin Mary,
the one mythological character they had heard of. Poor
little creatures of the dark, their souls grimed and smut-
ted even more quickly and irrevocably than their faces !
Hal had been advised by his boss to inquire for board
at “Reminitsky's.” He came up in the last car, at twi-
light, and was directed to a dimly lighted building of
corrugated iron, where upon inquiry he was met by a
stout Russian, who told him he could be taken care of for
twenty-seven dollars a month, this including a cot in a
room with eight other single men. After deducting a
dollar and a half a month for his saloon-keepers, fifty
cents for the company clergyman and a dollar for the com-
pany doctor, fifty cents a month for wash-house privileges
and fifty cents for a sick and accident benefit fund, he had
fourteen dollars a month with which to clothe himself,
to found a family, to provide himself with beer and to-
bacco, and to patronise the libraries and colleges endowed
by the philanthropic owners of coal mines.
Supper was nearly over at Reminitsky's when he ar-
rived; the floor looked like the scene of a cannibal picnic,
and what food was left was cold. It was always to be
this way with him, he found, and he had to make the best
of it. The dining-room of this boarding-house, owned and
managed by the G. F. C., brought to his mind the state
prison, which he had once visited -- with its rows of men
sitting in silence, eating starch and grease out of tin-plates.
The plates here were of crockery half an inch thick, but
the starch and grease never failed; the formula of Rem-
initsky's cook seemed to be, When in doubt add grease,
and boil it in. Even ravenous as Hal was after his long
tramp and his labour below ground, he could hardly swal-
/
20
KING COAL
low this food. On Sundays, the only time he ate by day-
light, the flies swarmed over everything, and he remem-
bered having heard a physician say that an enlightened
man should be more afraid of a fly than of a Bengal tiger.
The boarding-house provided him with a cot and a
supply of vermin, but with no blanket, which was a neces-
sity in the mountain regions. So after supper he had to
seek out his boss, and arrange to get credit at the company-
store. They were willing to give a certain amount of
credit, he found, as this would enable the camp-marshal to
keep him from straying. There was no law to hold a man
for debt — but Hal knew by this time how much a camp-
marshal cared for law.
boulley campis the mounta. the shaft.de
$ 6. For three days Hal toiled in the bowels of the
mine, and ate and pursued vermin at Reminitsky's.
Then came a blessed Sunday, and he had a couple of free
hours to see the sunlight and to get a look at the North
Valley camp. It was a village straggling along more
than a mile of the mountain canyon. In the centre were
the great breaker-buildings, the shaft-house, and the power-
house with its tall chimneys; nearby were the company-
store and a couple of saloons. There were several board-
ing-houses like Reminitsky's, and long rows of board cabins
containing from two to four rooms each, some of them
occupied by several families. A little way up a slope
stood a school-house, and another small one-room building
which served as a church; the clergyman belonging to the
General Fuel Company denomination. He was given the
use of the building, by way of start over the saloons, which
had to pay a heavy rental to the company; it seemed a
proof of the innate perversity of human nature that even
in spite of this advantage, heaven was losing out in the
struggle against hell in the coal-camp.
As one walked through this village, the first impression
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
21
was of desolation. The mountains towered, barren and
lonely, scarred with the wounds of geologic ages. In these
canyons the sun set early in the afternoon, the snow came
early in the fall; everywhere Nature's hand seemed against
man, and man had succumbed to her power. Inside the
camps one felt a still more cruel desolation — that of
sordidness and animalism. There were a few pitiful at-
tempts at vegetable-gardens, but the cinders and smoke
killed everything, and the prevailing colour was of grime.
The landscape was strewn with ash-heaps, old wire and
tomato-cans, and smudged and smutty children playing.
There was a part of the camp called “shanty-town,”
where, amid miniature mountains of slag, some of the
lowest of the newly-arrived foreigners had been permitted
to build themselves shacks out of old boards, tin, and
sheets of tar-paper. These homes were beneath the dig-
nity of chicken-houses, yet in some of them a dozen people
were crowded, men and women sleeping on old rags and
blankets on a cinder floor. Here the babies swarmed like
maggots. They wore for the most part a single ragged
smock, and their bare buttocks were shamelessly upturned
to the heavens. It was so the children of the cave-men
must have played, thought Hal; and waves of repulsion
swept over him. He had come with love and curiosity,
but both motives failed here. How could a man of sensi-
tive nerves, aware of the refinements and graces of life,
learn to love these people, who were an affront to his every
sense — a stench to his nostrils, a jabbering to his ear,
a procession of deformities to his eye? What had civili-
sation done for them? What could it do? After all,
what were they fit for, but the dirty work they were penned
up to do? So spoke the haughty race-consciousness of the
Anglo-Saxon, contemplating these Mediterranean hordes,
the very shape of whose heads was objectionable.
But Hal stuck it out; and little by little new vision
came to him. First of all, it was the fascination of the
22
KING COAL
mines. They were old mines — veritable cities tunnelled
out beneath the mountains, the main passages running for
miles. One day Hal stole off from his job, and took a
trip with a “rope-rider,” and got through his physical
senses a realisation of the vastness and strangeness and
loneliness of this labyrinth of night. In Number Two
mine the vein ran up at a slope of perhaps five degrees;
in part of it the empty cars were hauled in long trains by
an endless rope, but coming back loaded, they came of
their own gravity. This involved much work for the
“spraggers," or boys who did the braking; it sometimes
meant run-away cars, and fresh perils added to the every-
day perils of coal-mining.
The vein varied from four to five feet in thickness; a
cruelty of nature whichº made it necessary that the men
at the “working face”- the place where new coal was
being cut — should learn to shorten their stature. After
Hal had squatted for a while and watched them at their
tasks, he understood why they walked with head and shoul-
ders bent over and arms hanging down, so that, seeing
them coming out of the shaft in the gloaming, one thought
of a file of baboons. The method of getting out the coal
was to “undercut " it with a pick, and then blow it loose
with a charge of powder. This meant that the miner had
to lie on his side while working, and accounted for other
physical peculiarities.
Thus, as always, when one understood the lives of men,
one came to pity instead of despising. Here was a sepa-
rate race of creatures, subterranean gnomes, pent up by so-
ciety for purposes of its own. Outside in the sunshine-
flooded canyon, long lines of cars rolled down with their
freight of soft-coal; coal which would go to the ends of the
earth, to places the miner never heard of, turning the
wheels of industry whose products the miner would never
see. It would make precious silks for fine ladies, it would
cut precious jewels for their adornment; it would carry
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
23
long trains of softly upholstered cars across deserts and
over mountains; it would drive palatial steamships out of
wintry tempests into gleaming tropic seas. And the fine
ladies in their precious silks and jewels would eat and
sleep and laugh and lie at ease — and would know no more
of the stunted creatures of the dark than the stunted crea-
tures knew of them. Hal reflected upon this, and sub-
dued his Anglo-Saxon pride, finding forgiveness for what
was repulsive in these people — their barbarous, jabbering
speech, their vermin-ridden homes, their bare-bottomed
babies.
87. It chanced before many days that Hal got a holi-
day, relieving the monotony of his labours as stableman:
an accidental holiday, not provided for in his bargain
with the pit-boss. Something went wrong with the ven-
tilating-course in Number Two, and he began to notice a
headache, and heard the men grumbling that their lamps
were burning low. Then, as matters began to get serious,
orders came to get the mules to the surface.
Which meant an amusing adventure. The delight of
Hal's pets at seeing the sunlight was irresistibly comic.
They could not be kept from lying down and rolling on
their backs in the cinder-strewn street; and when they
were corralled in a distant part of the camp where actual
grass grew, they abandoned themselves to rapture like a
horde of school children at a picnic.
So Hal had a few free hours; and being still young and
not cured of idle curiosities, he climbed the canyon wall to
see the mountains. As he was sliding down again, toward
evening, a vivid spot of colour was painted into his picture
of mine-life; he found himself in somebody's back yard,
and being observed by somebody's daughter, who was tak-
ing in the family wash. It was a splendid figure of a lass,
tall and vigorous, with the sort of hair that in polite
horde grew, they a distant parton street; "a and rolling
24
KING COAL
circles is called auburn, and that flaming colour in the
cheeks which is Nature's recompense to people who live
where it rains all the time. She was the first beautiful
sight Hal had seen since he had come up the canyon, and
it was only natural that he should be interested. It seemed
to him that, so long as the girl stared, he had a right to
stare back. It did not occur to him that he too was a
pleasing sight — that the mountain air had given colour
to his cheeks and a shine to his gay brown eyes, while
the mountain winds had blown his wavy brown hair.
“Hello,” said she, at last, in a warm voice, unmis-
takably Irish.
“Hello yourself,” said Hal, in the accepted dialect;
then he added, with more elegance, “Pardon me for tres-
passing on your wash.”
Her grey eyes opened wider. “Go on!” she said.
“I'd rather stay,” said Hal. “It's a beautiful sun-
set.”
“I'll move, so ye can see it better.” She carried her
armful of clothes over and dropped them into the basket.
“No," said Hal, “it's not so fine now. The colours
have faded."
She turned and gazed at him again. “Go on wid
ye! I been teased about my hair since before I could
talk."
the hairhich were agli it fell overthe shoul
“'Tis envy,” said Hal, dropping into her way of speech;
and he came a few steps nearer, so that he could inspect
the hair more closely. It lay above her brow in undula-
tions which were agreeable to the decorative instinct, and
a tight heavy braid of it fell over her shoulders and swung
to her waist-line. He observed the shoulders, which were
sturdy, obviously accustomed to hard labour; not conform-
ing to accepted romantic standards of femininity, yet
having an athletic grace of their own. They were cov-
ered with a faded blue calico dress, unfortunately not
entirely clean; also, the young man noticed, there was
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
25
a rent in one shoulder through which a patch of skin was
visible. The girl's eyes, which had been following his,
became defiant; she tossed a piece of -her washing over
the shoulder, where it stayed through the balance of the
interview.
Who are ye?” she demanded, suddenly.
“My name's Joe Smith. I'm a stableman in Number
Two."
“And what were ye doin' up there, if a body might
ask ?” She lifted her grey eyes to the bare mountain-
side, down which he had come sliding in a shower of loose
stones and dirt.
“I've been surveying my empire," said he.
“ Your what?"
“My empire. The land belongs to the company, but
the landscape belongs to him who cares for it.”
She tossed her head a little. “Where did ye learn to
“In another life,” said he _“ before I became a stable-
man. Not in entire forgetfulness, but trailing clouds of
glory did I come.”
For a moment she wrestled with this. Then a smile
broke upon her face. “ Sure, 'tis like a poetry-book!
Say some more!”
“O, singe fort, so suess und fein!” quoted Hal- and
saw her look puzzled.
“Aren't you American?" she inquired; and he laughed.
To speak a foreign language in North Valley was not a
mark of culture!
“I've been listening to the crowd at Reminitsky's,” he
said, apologetically.
“Oh! You eat there?”
“I go there three times a day. I can't say I eat very
much. Could you live on greasy beans?"
« Sure," laughed the girl, “the good old pertaties is
good enough for me."
26
KING COAL
“I should have said you lived on rose leaves !” he ob
served.
“Go on wid ye! 'Tis the blarney-stone ye been
kissin'!”
«Tis no stone I'd be wastin' my kisses on.”
“ Ye're gettin' bold, Mister Smith. I'll not listen to
ye." And she turned away, and began industriously tak-
ing her clothes from the line. But Hal did not want to
be dismissed. He came a step closer.
“ Coming down the mountain-side,” he said, “I found
something wonderful. It's bare and grim up there, but
I came on a sheltered corner where the sun shone, and
there was a wild rose. Only one! I thought to myself,
"So roses grow, even in the loneliest parts of the world ! »»
“ Sure, 'tis a poetry-book again!” she cried. “Why
didn't ye bring the rose ?”
“ There is a poetry-book that tells us to leave the wild-
rose on its stalk. It will go on blooming there; but if
one were to pluck it, it would wither in a few hours."
He had meant nothing more by this than to keep the
conversation going. But her answer turned the tide of
their acquaintance.
“Ye can never be sure, lad. Perhaps to-night a storm
may come and blow it to pieces. Perhaps if ye'd pulled
it and been happy, 'twould 'a' been what the rose was
for.”
Whatever of unconscious patronage there had been in
the poet's attitude was lost now in the eternal mystery.
Whether the girl knew it — or cared — she had won the
woman's first victory. She had caught the man's mind
and pinned it with curiosity. What did this wild rose
of the mining camps mean? .
The wild rose, apparently unconscious that she had
said anything epoch-making, was busy with the wash; and
meantime Hal Warner studied her features and pondered
her words. From a lady of sophistication they would
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
27
have meant only one thing, an invitation; but in this girl's
clear grey eyes was nothing of wantonness, only pain.
But what was this pain in the face and words of one so
young, so eager and alive? Was it the melancholy of
her race, the thing one got in old folk-songs? Or was it
a new and special kind of melancholy, engendered in min-
ing-camps in the far West of America ?
The girl's countenance was as intriguing as her words.
Her grey eyes were set under sharply defined dark brows,
which did not match her hair. Her lips also were sharply
defined, and straight, almost without curves, so that it
seemed as if her mouth had been painted in carmine upon
her face. These features gave her, when she stared at
you, an aspect vivid and startling, bold, with a touch of
defiance. But when she smiled, the red lips would curve
into gentler lines, and the grey eyes would become wist-
ful, and seemingly darker in colour. Winsome indeed,
but not simple, was this Irish lass!
§ 8. Hal asked the name of his new acquaintance, and
she told him it was Mary Burke. “ Ye've not been here
long, I take it," she said, “or ye'd have heard of 'Red
Mary. 'Tis along of this hair.”
“I've not been here long," he answered, “but I shall
hope to stay now — along of this hair! May I come to
see you some time, Miss Burke?”
She did not reply, but glanced at the house where she
lived. It was an unpainted, three room cabin, more
dilapidated than the average, with bare dirt and cinders
about it, and what had once been a picket-fence, now fall-
ing apart and being used for stove-wood. The windows
were cracked and broken, and upon the roof were signs of
leaks that had been crudely patched.
“May I come?” he made haste to ask again — so that
he would not seem to look too critically at her home.
28
KING COAL
“Perhaps ye may,” said the girl, as she picked up the
clothes basket. He stepped forward, offering to carry it,
but she did not give it up. Holding it tight, and looking
him defiantly in the face, she said, “Ye may come, but
ye’ll not find it a happy place to visit, Mr. Smith. Ye'll
hear soon enough from the neighbours.”
“I don't think I know any of your neighbours," said he.
There was sympathy in his voice; but her look was no
less defiant. “ Ye'll hear about it, Mr. Smith; but ye'll
hear also that I hold me head up. And 'tis not so easy
to do that in North Valley.”
“You don't like the place ?” he asked; and he was
amazed by the effect of this question, which was merely
polite. It was as if a storm cloud had swept over the
girl's face. “I hate it! 'Tis a place of fear and devils !"
He hesitated a moment; then,“ Will you tell me what
you mean by that when I come?”
But “Red Mary” was winsome again. “When ye
come, Mr. Smith, I'll not be entertaining ye with troubles.
I'll put on me company manner, and we'll go out for a
nice walk, if ye please.”
All the way as he walked back to Reminitsky's to sup-
per, Hal thought about this girl; not merely her pleasant-
ness to the eye, so unexpected in this place of desolation,
but her personality, which baffled him— the pain that
seemed always just beneath the surface of her thoughts,
the fierce pride which flashed out at the slightest sugges-
tion of sympathy, the way she had of brightening when
he spoke the language of metaphor, however trite. How
had she come to know about poetry-books? He wanted
to know more about this miracle of Nature -- this wild
rose blooming on a bare mountain-side!
§ 9. There was one of Mary Burke's remarks upon
which Hal soon got light - her statement that North
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
29
Valley was a place of fear. He listened to the tales of
these underworld men, until it came so that he shuddered
with dread each time that he went down in the cage.
There was a wire-haired and almond eyed Korean,
named Cho, a “rope-rider” in Hal's part of the mine.
He was one of those who had charge of the long trains
of cars, called “trips," which were hauled through the
main passage-ways; the name “rope-rider” came from
the fact that he sat on the heavy iron ring to which the
rope was attached. He invited Hal to a seat with him,
and Hal accepted, at peril of his job as well as of his
limbs. Cho had picked up what he fondly thought was
English, and now and then one could understand a word.
He pointed upon the ground, and shouted above the rattle
of the cars: “Big dust!” Hal saw that the ground
was covered with six inches of coal-dust, while on the old
disused walls one could write his name in it. “Much
blow-up!” said the rope-rider; and when the last empty
cars had been shunted off into the working-rooms, and he
was waiting to make up a return "trip," he laboured
with gestures to explain what he meant. "Load cars.
Bang! Bust like hell!”
Hal knew that the mountain air in this region was fa-
mous for its dryness; he learned now that the quality
which meant life to invalids from every part of the world
meant death to those who toiled to keep the invalids warm.
Driven through the mines by great fans, this air took out
every particle of moisture, and left coal dust so thick and
dry that there were fatal explosions from the mere friction
of loading-shovels. So it happened that these mines were
killing several times as many men as other mines through-
out the country.
Was there no remedy for this, Hal asked, talking with
one of his mule-drivers, Tim Rafferty, the evening after
his ride with Cho. There was a remedy, said Tim — the
law required sprinkling the mines with “ adobe-dust";
There was nafferty, the, talking with
30
KING COAL
and once in Tim's life, he remembered this law's being
obered. There had come some “big fellows" inspecting
things, and previous to their visit there had been an elabo-
rate campaign of sprinkling. But that had been several
years ago, and now the apparatus was stored away, nobody
knew where, and one heard nothing about sprinkling
It was the same with precautions against gas. The
North Valley mines were especially “gassy," it appeared.
In these old rambling passages one smelt a stink as of all
the rotten eggs in all the barn-yards of the world; and this
sulphuretted hydrogen was the least dangerous of the gases
against which a miner had to contend. There was the
dreaded “choke-damp," which was odourless, and heavier
than air. Striking into soft, greasy coal, one would open
a pocket of this gas, a deposit laid up for countless ages,
awaiting its predestined victim. A man might sink to
sleep as he lay at work, and if his “buddy," or helper,
happened to be out of sight, and to delay a minute too
long, it would be all over with the man. And there was
the still more dreaded “ fire-damp," which might wreck a
whole mine, and kill scores and even hundreds of men.
Against these dangers there was a “fire-boss,” whose
duty was to go through the mine, testing for gas, and mak-
ing sure that the ventilating-course was in order, and the
fans working properly. The "fire-boss” was supposed
to make his rounds in the early morning, and the law
specified that no one should go to work till he had certi-
fied that all was safe. But what if the “fire-boss” over-
slept himself, or happened to be drunk? It was too much
to expect thousands of dollars to be lost for such a reason.
So sometimes one saw men ordered to their work, and
sent down grumbling and cursing. Before many hours
some of them would be prostrated with headache, and
begging to be taken out; and perhaps the superintendent
would not let them out, because if a few came, the rest
would get scared and want to come also.
ing suforking proper in the early work till be poss" over-
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
Once, only last year, there had been an accident of that
sort. A young mule-driver, a Croatian, told Hal about
it while they sat munching the contents of their dinner-
pails. The first cage-load of men had gone down into the
mine, sullenly protesting; and soon afterwards some one
had taken down a naked light, and there had been an
explosion which had sounded like the blowing up of the
inside of the world. Eight men had been killed, the force
of the explosion being so great that some of the bodies
had been wedged between the shaft wall and the cage, and
it had been necessary to cut them to pieces to get them
out. 3 It was them Japs that were to blame, vowed Hal's
informant. They hadn't ought to turn them loose in coal
mines, for the devil himself couldn't keep a Jap from
sneaking off to get a smoke.
So Hal understood how North Valley was a place of
fear. What tales the old chambers of these mines could
have told, if they had had voices! Hal watched the
throng's pouring in to their labours, and reflected that
according to the statisticians of the government eight or
nine of every thousand of them were destined to die violent
deaths before a year was out, and some thirty more would
be badly injured. And they knew this, they knew it bet-
ter than all the statisticians of the government; yet they
went to their tasks! Reflecting upon this, Hal was full
of wonder. What was the force that kept men at such
a task? Was it a sense of duty ? Did they understand
that society had to have coal and that some one had to do
the“ dirty work" of providing it? Did they have a vision
of a future, great and wonderful, which was to grow out
of their ill-requited toil? Or were they simply fools or
cowards, submitting blindly, because they had not the vit
nor the will to do otherwise ? Curiosity held him, he
wanted to understand the inner souls of these silent and
patient armies which through the ages have surrendered
their lives to other men's control.
32
KING COAL
Madvik Burke and Ti people in the male temperamentas bulk,
§ 10. Hal was coming to know these people; to see
them no longer as a mass, to be despised or pitied in bulk,
but as individuals, with individual temperaments and
problems, exactly like people in the world of the sunlight.
Mary Burke and Tim Rafferty, Cho the Korean and
Madvik the Croatian - one by one these individualities
etched themselves into the foreground of Hal's picture,
making it a thing of life, moving him to sympathy and
fellowship. Some of these people, to be sure, were
stunted and dulled to a sordid ugliness of soul and body -
but on the other hand, some of them were young, and had
the light of hope in their hearts, and the spark of re-
bellion.
There was “ Andy," a boy of Greek parentage; An-
drokulos was his right name — but it was too much to
expect any one to get that straight in a coal-camp. Hal
noticed him at the store, and was struck by his beautiful
features, and the mournful look in his big black eyes.
They got to talking, and Andy made the discovery that
Hal had not spent all his time in coal-camps, but had seen
the great world. It was pitiful, the excitement that came
into his voice; he was yearning for life, with its joys and
adventures -- and it was his destiny to sit ten hours a
day by the side of a chute, with the rattle of coal in his
ears and the dust of coal in his nostrils, picking out slate
with his fingers. He was one of many scores of“ breaker-
boy. Why don How I get a no Halm
“Why don't you go away?” asked Hal.
“ Christ! How I get away? Got mother, two sisters."
“And your father?” So Hal made the discovery that
Andy's father had been one of those men whose bodies
had had to be cut to pieces to get them out of the shaft.
Now the son was chained to the father's place, until his
time too should come!
“Don't want to be miner!” cried the boy. “Don't
want to get kil-lid!”
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
33
He began to ask, timidly, what Hal thought he could do
if he were to run away from his family and try his luck
in the world outside. Hal, striving to remember where
he had seen olive-skinned Greeks with big black eyes in
this beautiful land of the free, could hold out no better
prospect than a shoe-shining parlour, or the wiping out of
wash-bowls in a hotel-lavatory, handing over the tips to
a fat padrone.
Andy had been to school, and had learned to read Eng-
lish, and the teacher had loaned him books and magazines
with wonderful pictures in them; now he wanted more
than pictures, he wanted the things which they portrayed.
So Hal came face to face with one of the difficulties of
mine-operators. They gathered a population of humble
serfs, selected from twenty or thirty races of hereditary
bondsmen; but owing to the absurd American custom of
having public-schools, the children of this population
learned to speak English, and even to read it. So they
became too good for their lot in life; and then a wander-
ing agitator would get in, and all of a sudden there would
be hell. Therefore in every coal-camp had to be another
kind of " fire-boss," whose duty it was to guard against
another kind of explosions -- not of carbon monoxide, but
of the human soul.
The immediate duties of this office in North Valley de-
volved upon Jeff Cotton, the camp-marshal. He was not
at all what one would have expected from a person of his
trade - lean and rather distinguished-looking, a man who
in evening clothes might have passed for a diplomat. But
his mouth would become ugly when he was displeased, and
a deputy-sheriff's badge, to give him immunity for other
notches he might wish to add. When Jeff Cotton came
near, any man who was explosive went off to be explosive
by himself. So there was “ order” in North Valley, and
it was only on Saturday and Sunday nights, when the
34
KING COAL
drunks had to be suppressed, or on Monday mornings when
they had to be haled forth and kicked to their work, that
one realised upon what basis this “ order” rested.
Besides Jeff Cotton, and his assistant, “Bud” Adams,
who wore badges, and were known, there were other as-
sistants who wore no badges, and were not supposed to
be known. Coming up in the cage one evening, Hal made
some remark to the Croatian mule-driver, Madvik, about
the high price of company-store merchandise, and was sur-
prised to get a sharp kick on the ankle. Afterwards, as
they were on their way to supper, Madvik gave him the
reason. “Red-faced feller, Gus. Look out for him -
company spotter.”
“Is that so ?” said Hal, with interest. “How do you
know?"
“I know. Everybody know.”
“He don't look like he had much sense,” said Hal --
who had got his idea of detectives from Sherlock Holmes.
“No take much sense. Go pit-boss, say, 'Joe feller
talk too much. Say store rob him. Any damn fool do
that. Hey?"
* To be sure," admitted Hal. “And the company pays
him for it?”
“Pit-boss pay him. Maybe give him drink, maybe two
bits. Then pit-boss come to you: "You shoot your
mouth off too much, feller. Git the hell out of here!'
See?"
Hal saw.
“So you go down canyon. Then maybe you go 'nother
mine. Boss say, 'Where you work?' You say 'North
Valley. He say, 'What your name?' You say, “Joe
Smith. He say, "Wait.' He go in, look at paper; he
come out, say, 'No job!' You say, 'Why not?' He
say, 'Shoot off your mouth too much, feller. Git the hell
out of here!! See?”
“ You mean a black-list,” said Hal.
to No take muidea of detectiveauch sense,” said
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
35
“Sure, black-list. Maybe telephone, find out all about
you. You do anything bad, like talk union ”– Madvik
had dropped his voice and whispered the word “union” —
“they send your picture — don't get job nowhere in state.
How you like that?”
$ 11. Before long Hal had a chance to see this sys-
tem of espionage at work, and he began to understand
something of the force which kept these silent and patient
armies at their tasks. On a Sunday morning he was
strolling with his mule driver friend Tim Rafferty, a
kindly lad with a pair of dreamy blue eyes in his coal-
smutted face. They came to Tim's home, and he invited
Hal to come in and meet his family. The father was a
bowed and toil-worn man, but with tremendous strength
in his solid frame, the product of many generations of
labour in coal-mines. He was known as “Old Rafferty,"
despite the fact that he was well under fifty. He had
been a pit-boy at the age of nine, and he showed Hal a
faded leather album with pictures of his ancestors in the
“oul country”- men with sad, deeply lined faces, sitting
very stiff and solemn to have their presentments made
permanent for posterity.
The mother of the family was a gaunt, grey-haired
woman, with no teeth, but with a warm heart. Hal took
to her, because her home was clean; he sat on the family
door-step, amid a crowd of little Rafferties with newly-
washed Sunday faces, and fascinated them with tales of
adventures cribbed from Clark Russell and Captain Mayne
Reid. As a reward he was invited to stay for dinner, and
had a clean knife and fork, and a clean plate of steaming
hot potatoes, with two slices of salt pork on the side.
It was so wonderful that he forthwith inquired if he might
forsake his company boarding-house and come and board
with them.
KING COAL
Mrs. Rafferty opened wide her eyes. “Sure,” ex-
claimed she, “ do you think you'd be let?”
“Why not?” asked Hal.
“ Sure, 't would be a bad example for the others."
“Do you mean I have to board at Reminitsky's ?"
“There be six company boardin’-houses," said the
woman.
“And what would they do if I came to you?”
“First you'd get a hint, and then you'd go down the
canyon, and maybe us after ye.”
"But there's lots of people have boarders in shanty-
town," objected Hal.
“Oh! Them wops! Nobody counts them -- they live
any way they happen to fall. But you started at Rem-
initsky's, and 't would not be healthy for them that took
ye away.”
“I see," laughed Hal. “There seem to be a lot of
unhealthy things hereabouts."
“ Sure there be! They sent down Nick Ammons be-
cause his wife bought milk down the canyon. They had
a sick baby, and it's not much you get in this thin stuff
at the store. They put chalk in it, I think; any way, you
can see somethin' white in the bottom.”
“ So you have to trade at the store, too!"
“I thought ye said ye'd worked in coal-mines," put in
Old Rafferty, who had been a silent listener.
“So I have,” said Hal. “But it wasn't quite that
bad.”
“ Sure," said Mrs. Rafferty, “I'd like to know where
'twas then - in this country. Me and me old man spent
weary years a-huntin'."
Thus far the conversation had proceeded naturally; but
suddenly it was as if a shadow passed over it — a shadow
of fear. Hal saw Old Rafferty look at his wife, and frown
and make signs to her. After all, what did they know
af fear. Wawas as if nation had proc
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
37
about this handsome young stranger, who talked so glibly,
and had been in so many parts of the world?
“'Tis not complainin' we'd be,” said the old man.
And his wife made haste to add, “If they let peddlers
and the like of them come in, 'twould be no end to it, I
suppose. We find they treat us here as well as any-
where."
“'Tis no joke, the life of workin' men, wherever ye try
it," added the other; and when young Tim started to
express an opinion, they shut him up with such evident
anxiety that Hal's heart ached for them, and he made
haste to change the subject.
$ 12. On the evening of the same Sunday Hal went
to pay his promised call upon Mary Burke. She opened
the front door of the cabin to let him in, and even by the
dim rays of the little kerosene lamp, there came to him
an impression of cheerfulness. “Hello," she said - just
as she had said it when he had slid down the mountain
into the family wash. He followed her into the room, and
saw that the impression he had got of cheerfulness came
from Mary herself. How bright and fresh she looked !
The old blue calico, which had not been entirely clean,
was newly laundered now, and on the shoulder where the
rent had been was a neat patch of unfaded blue.
There being only three rooms in Mary's home, two of
these necessarily bed-rooms, she entertained her company
in the kitchen. The room was bare, Hal saw — there was
not even so much as a clock by way of ornament. The
cnly charm the girl had been able to give to it, in prepa-
ration for company, was that of cleanness. The board
floor had been newly sanded and scrubbed; the kitchen
table also had been scrubbed, and the kettle on the stove,
and the cracked tea-pot and bowls on the shelf. Mary's
38
KING COAL
little brother and sister were in the room: Jennie, a
dark-eyed, dark-haired little girl, frail, with a sad, rather
frightened face; and Tommie, a round headed youngster,
like a thousand other round headed and freckle-faced boys.
Both of them were now sitting very straight in their
chairs, staring at the visitor with a certain resentment, he
thought. He suspected that they had been included in
the general scrubbing. Inasmuch as it had been uncer-
tain just when the visitor would come, they must have
been required to do this every night, and he could imagine
family disturbances, with arguments possibly not alto-
gether complimentary to Mary's new “feller.”
There seemed to be a certain uneasiness in the place.
Mary did not invite her company to a seat, but stood irreso-
lute; and after Hal had ventured a couple of friendly
remarks to the children, she said, abruptly, “Shall we
be takin' that walk that we spoke of, Mr. Smith ?"
“ Delighted !” said Hal; and while she pinned on her
hat before the broken mirror on the shelf, he smiled at the
children and quoted two lines from his Harrigan song ~
11
“Oh, Mary-Jane, come out in the lane,
The moon is a-shinin' in the old pecan!"
Tommie and Jennie were too shy to answer, but Mary
exclaimed, “'Tis in a tin-can ye see it shinin' here!"
They went out. In the soft summer night it was pleas-
ant to stroll under the moon — especially when they had
come to the remoter parts of the village, where there were
not so many weary people on door-steps and children play-
ing noisily. There were other young couples walking
here, under the same moon; the hardest day's toil could
not so sap their energies that they did not feel the spell
of this soft summer night.
Hal, being tired, was content to stroll and enjoy the
stillness; but Mary Burke sought information about the
other Wardest da peel the spe
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
39
mysterious young man she was with. “Ye've not worked
long in coal-mines, Mr. Smith ?" she remarked.
Hal was a trifle disconcerted. “How did you find that
out?"
“Ye don't look it -- ye don't talk it. Ye're not like
anybody or anything around here. I don't know how to
say it, but ye make me think more of the poetry-books."
Flattered as Hal was by this naïve confession, he did
not want to talk of the mystery of himself. He took
refuge in a question about the poetry-books.” “I've
read some," said the girl; “more than ye'd have thought,
perhaps.” This with a flash of her defiance.
He asked more questions, and learned that she, like the
Greek boy, " Andy," had come under the influence of that
disturbing American institution, the public-school; she
had learned to read, and the pretty young teacher had
helped her, lending her books and magazines. Thus she
had been given a key to a treasure-house, a magic carpet
on which to travel over the world. These similes Mary
herself 'used — for the Arabian Nights had been one of
the books that were loaned to her. On rainy days she
would hide behind the sofa, reading at a spot where the
light crept in - so that she might be safe from small
brothers and sisters!
Joe Smith had read these same books, it appeared; and
this seemed remarkable to Mary, for books cost money
and were hard to get. She explained how she had searched
the camp for new magic carpets, finding a “poetry-book"
by Longfellow, and a book of American history, and a
story called “ David Copperfield," and last and strangest
of all, another story called “Pride and Prejudice." A
curious freak of fortune — the prim and sentimentally
quivering Jane Austen in a coal-camp in a far Western
wilderness! An adventure for Jane, as well as for Mary!
What had Mary made of it, Hal wondered. Had she
revelled, shop-girl fashion, in scenes of pallid ease? He
40
KING COAL
learned that what she had made of it was despair. This
world outside, with its freedom and cleanness, its people
living gracious and worth-while lives, was not for her; she
was chained to a scrub-pail in a coal-camp. Things had
got so much worse since the death of her mother, she said.
Her voice had become dull and hard — Hal thought that
he had never heard a young voice express such hopelessness.
“You've never been anywhere but here?” he asked.
“I been in two other camps," she said —“ first the
Gordon, and then East Run. But they're all alike."
“But you've been down to the towns ?”
“ Only for a day, once or twice a year. Once I was in
Sheridan, and in a church I heard a lady sing.”
She stopped for a moment, lost in this memory. Then
suddenly her voice changed — and he could imagine in
the darkness that she had tossed her head defiantly. “I'll
not be entertainin' company with my troubles! Ye know
how tiresome that is when ye hear it from somebody else
- like my next-door neighbour, Mrs. Zamboni. D'ye
know her ? "
“No," said Hal.
“The poor old lady has troubles enough, God knows.
Her man's not much good — he's troubled with the drink;
and she's got eleven childer, and that's too many for one
woman. Don't ye think so ?”
She asked this with a naïveté which made Hal laugh.
“ Yes," he said, “I do."
“Well, I think people'd help her more if she'd not
complain so! And half of it in the Slavish language, that
a body can't understand!” So Mary began to tell funny
things about Mrs. Zamboni and her other polyglot neigh-
bours, imitating their murdering of the Irish dialect.
Hal thought her humour was naïve and delightful, and
he led her on to more cheerful gossip during the remainder
of their walk.
1
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
41
$ 13. But then, as they were on their way home,
tragedy fell upon them. Hearing a step behind them,
Mary turned and looked; then catching Hal by the arm,
she drew him into the shadows at the side, whispering to
him to be silent. The bent figure of a man went past
them, lurching from side to side.
When he had turned and gone into the house, Mary
said, “It's my father. He's ugly when he's like that.”
And Hal could hear her quick breathing in the darkness.
So that was Mary's trouble — the difficulty in her home
life to which she had referred at their first meeting !
Hal understood many things in a flash — why her home
was bare of ornament, and why she did not invite her
company to sit down. He stood silent, not knowing what
to say. Before he could find the word, Mary burst out,
“ Oh, how I hate O'Callahan, that sells the stuff to my
father! His home with plenty to eat in it, and his wife
dressin' in silk and goin' down to mass every Sunday,
and thinkin' herself too good for a common miner's daugh-
ter! Sometimes I think I'd like to kill them both."
." That wouldn't help much,” Hal ventured.
“No, I know — there'd only be some other one in his
place. Ye got to do more than that, to change things
here. Ye got to get after them that make money out of
O'Callahan.”
So Mary's mind was groping for causes! Hal had
thought her excitement was due to humiliation, or to fear
of a scene of violence when she reached home; but she was
thinking of the deeper aspects of this terrible drink prob-
lem. There was still enough unconscious snobbery in Hal
Warner for him to be surprised at this phenomenon in a
common miner's daughter; and so, as at their first meeting,
his pity was turned to intellectual interest..
“They'll stop the drink business altogether some day,"
he said. He had not known that he was a Prohibitionist;
he had become one suddenly!
42
KING COAL
“Well," she answered, “ they'd best stop it soon, if they
don't want to be too late. 'Tis a sight to make your heart
sick to see the young lads comin' home staggerin', too
drunk even to fight.”
Hal had not had time to see much of this aspect of
North Valley. “They sell to boys ?” he asked.
“Sure, who's to care ? A boy's money's as good as a
man's."
“But I should think the company "
“The company lets the saloon-buildin'— that's all the
company cares.”
“But they must care something about the efficiency of
their hands!”
“ Sure, there's plenty more where they come from.
When ye can't work, they fire ye, and that's all there is
to it."
“And is it so easy to get skilled men?”
“It don't take much skill to get out coal. The skill is
in keepin' your bones whole --- and if you can stand
breakin' 'em, the company can stand it.”
They had come to the little cabin. Mary stood for a
moment in silence. “I'm talkin' bitter again!” she ex-
claimed suddenly. “And I promised ye me company
manner! But things keep happening to set me off.” And
she turned abruptly and ran into the house. Hal stood
for a moment wondering if she would return; then, de-
ciding that she had meant that as good night, he went
slowly up the street.
He fought against a mood of real depression, the first
he had known since his coming to North Valley. He had
managed so far to keep a certain degree of aloofness, that
he might see this industrial world without prejudice. But
to-night his pity for Mary had involved him more deeply.
To be sure, he might be able to help her, to find her work
in some less crushing environment; but his mind went on
to the question --- how many girls might there be in min-
ran into the to set me off company
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
43
Hal haded to combathe gentlem of the han
ing-camps, young and eager, hungering for life, but
crushed by poverty, and by the burden of the drink
problem?
A man walked past Hal, greeting him in the semi-dark-
ness with a nod and a motion of the hand. It was the
Reverend Spragg, the gentleman who was officially com-
missioned to combat the demon rum in North Valley.
Hal had been to the little white church the Sunday before,
and heard the Reverend Spragg preach a doctrinal sermon,
in which the blood of the lamb was liberally sprinkled,
and the congregation heard where and how they were to
receive compensation for the distresses they endured in
this vale of tears.
What a mockery it seemed! Once, indubitably, people
had believed such doctrines; they had been willing to go
to the stake for them. But now nobody went to the stake
for them — on the contrary, the company compelled every
worker to contribute out of his scanty earnings towards
the preaching of them. How could the most ignorant of
zealots confront such an arrangement without suspicion of
his own piety? Somewhere at the head of the great divi-
dend-paying machine that was called the General Fuel
Company must be some devilish intelligence that had
worked it all out, that had given the orders to its ecclesi-
astical staff: “We want the present — we leave you the
future! We want the bodies — we leave you the souls !
Teach them what you will about heaven — so long as you
let us plunder them on earth!”
In accordance with this devil's program, the Reverend
Spragg might denounce the demon rum, but he said noth-
ing about dividends based on the renting of rum-shops,
nor about local politicians maintained by company con-
tributions, plus the profits of wholesale liquor. He said
nothing about the conclusions of modern hygiene, concern-
ing over-work as a cause of the craving for alcohol; the
phrase "industrial drinking," it seemed, was not known
In accordan denounce the dentina renting of ruina
TY
44
KING COAL
in General Fuel Company theology! In fact, when you
listened to such a sermon, you would never have guessed
that the hearers of it had physical bodies at all; certainly
you would never have guessed that the preacher had a
body, which was nourished by food produced by the over-
worked and under-nourished wage-slaves whom he taught!
$ 14. For the most part the victims of this system
were cowed and spoke of their wrongs only in whispers;
but there was one place in the camp, Hal found, where
they could not keep silence, where their sense of outrage
battled with their fear. This place was the solar plexus
of the mine-organism, the centre of its nervous energies ;
to change the simile, it was the judgment-seat, where the
miner had sentence passed upon him -- sentence either to
plenty, or to starvation and despair.
This place was the "tipple," where the coal that came
out of the mine was weighed and recorded. Every digger,
as he came from the cage, made for this spot. There was
a bulletin board, and on it his number, and the record of
the weights of the cars he had sent out that day. And
every man, no matter how ignorant, had learned enough
English to read those figures.
Hal had gradually come to realise that here was the
place of drama. Most of the men would look, and then,
without a sound or glance about, would slouch off with
drooping shoulders. Others would mumble to themselves
--or, what amounted to the same thing, would mumble to
one another in barbarous dialects. But about one in five
could speak English; and scarcely an evening passed that
some man did not break loose, shaking his fist at the sky,
or at the weigh-boss -- behind the latter's back. He might
gather a knot of fellow-grumblers about him; it was
to be noted that the camp-marshal had the habit of being
on hand at this hour.
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
45
It was on one of these occasions that Hal first noticed
Mike Sikoria, a grizzle-haired old Slovak, who had spent
twenty years in the mines of these regions. All the bit-
terness of all the wrongs of all these years welled up in
Old Mike, as he shouted his score aloud: “ Nineteen,
twenty-two, twenty-four, twenty! Is that my weight,
Mister? You want me to believe that's my weight?”
“ That's your weight,” said the weigh-boss, coldly.
“ Well, by Judas, your scale is off, Mister! Look at
them cars — them cars is big! You measure them cars,
Mister — seven feet long, three and a half feet high, four
feet wide. And you tell me them don't go but twenty ?”
“You don't load them right," said the boss.
“Don't load them right?" echoed the old miner; he
became suddenly plaintive, as if more hurt than angered
by such an insinuation. “You know all the years I work,
and you tell me I don't know a load? When I load a car,
I load him like a miner, I don't load him like a Jap, that
don't know about a mine! I put it up — I chunk it up
like a stack of hay. I load him square — like that.”
With gestures the old fellow was illustrating what he
meant. “See there! There's a ton on the top, and a ton
and a half on the bottom — and you tell me I get only
nineteen, twenty!”
“ That's your weight,” said the boss, implacably.
“But, Mister, your scale is wrong! I tell you I used
to get my weight. I used to get forty-five, forty-six on
them cars. Here's my buddy — ask him if it ain't so.
“Um m m-mum," said Bo, who was a negro - though
one could hardly be sure of this for the coal-dust on him.
“I can't make a living no more!” exclaimed the old
Slovak, his voice trembling and his wizened dark eyes full
of pleading. “What you think I make? For fifteen
days, fifty cents! I pay board, and so help me God,
Mister — and I stand right here - I swear for God I
46
KING COAL
make fifty cents. I dig the coal and I ain't got no weight,
I ain't got nothing! Your scale is wrong!”
“Get out!” said the weigh-boss, turning away.
“But, Mister!” cried Old Mike, following behind him,
and pouring his whole soul into his words. “What is
this life, Mister? You work like a burro, and you don't
get nothing for it! You burn your own powder - half
a dollar a day powder — what you think of that? Cross-
cut — and you get nothing! Take the skip and a pillar,
and you get nothing! Brush — and you get nothing !
Here, by Judas, a poor man, going and working his body
to the last point, and blood is run out! You starve me to
death, I say! I have got to have something to eat,
haven't I?"
And suddenly the boss whirled upon him. “ Get the
hell out of here!” he shouted. “If you don't like it, get
your time and quit. Shut your face, or I'll shut it for
you."
The old man quailed and fell silent. He stood for a
moment more, biting his whiskered lips nervously; then
his shoulders sank together, and he turned and slunk off,
followed by his negro helper.
$ 15. Old Mike boarded at Reminitsky's, and after
supper was over, Hal sought him out. He was easy to
know, and proved an interesting acquaintance. With the
help of his eloquence Hal wandered through a score of
camps in the district. The old fellow had a temper that
he could not manage, and so he was always on the move;
but all places were alike, he said -- there was always some
trick by which a miner was cheated of his earnings. A
miner was a little business man, a contractor who took a
certain job, with its expenses and its chance of profit or
loss. A “ place” was assigned to him by the boss — and
he undertook to get out the coal from it, being paid at the
ut assigned and its cractor
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
47
rate of fifty-five cents a ton for each ton of clean coal. In
some" places” a man could earn good money, and in
on separate take off the as low, the most
was called
with his store-account.
It all depended upon the amount of rock and slate that
was found with the coal. If the vein was low, the man
had one or two feet of rock to take off the ceiling, and this
had to be loaded on separate cars and taken away. This
work was called "brushing," and for it the miner received
no pay. Or perhaps it was necessary to cut through a new
passage, and clean out the rock; or perhaps to “grade the
bottom," and lay the ties and rails over which the cars
were brought in to be loaded; or perhaps the vein ran into
a “ fault,” a broken place where there was rock instead of
coal — and this rock must be hewed away before the
miner could get at the coal. All such work was called
“ dead-work," and it was the cause of unceasing war. In
the old days the company had paid extra for it; now, since
they had got the upper hand of the men, they were refusing
to pay. And so it was important to the miner to have a
“ place" assigned him where there was not so much of this
dead work. And the “ place” a man got depended upon
the boss; so here, at the very outset, was endless oppor-
tunity for favouritism and graft, for quarrelling, or
“ keeping in” with the boss. What chance did a man
stand who was poor and old and ugly, and could not speak
English good ? inquired old Mike, with bitterness. The
boss stole his cars and gave them to other people; he took
the weight off the cars, and gave them to fellows who
boarded with him, or treated him to drinks, or otherwise
curried favour with him.
"I work five days in the Southeastern,” said Mike,
“and when I work them five days, so help me God, brother,
if I don't get up out of this chair, fifteen cents I was still
in the hole yet. Fourteen inches of rock! And the Mr.
Bishop -- that is the superintendent — I says, 'Do you
17
hoss stolet. off the cop treat
48
KING COAL
pay something for that rock?' 'Huh?' says he. “Well,
I says, “if you don't pay nothing for the rock, I don't go
ahead with it. I ain't got no place to put that rock.'
Get the hell out of here,' says he, and when I started to
fight he pull gun on me. And then I go to Cedar Moun-
tain, and the super give me work there, and he says, 'You
go Number Four,' and he says, 'Rail is in Number Three,
and the ties.' And he says, “I pay you for it when you
put it in. So I take it away and I put it in, and I work
till twelve o'clock. Carried the three pair of rails and the
ties, and I pulled all the spikes --_”
“Pulled the spikes?” asked Hal.
“Got no good spikes. Got to use old spikes, what you
pull out of them old ties. So then I says, 'What is my
half day, what you promise me?' Says he, 'You ain't
dug no coal yet!’ ‘But, mister,' says I, 'you promise
me pay to pull them spikes and put in them ties!' Says
he, Company pay nothin' for dead work — you know
that,' says he, and that is all the satisfaction I get.”
“ And you didn't get your half day's pay?"
“ Sure I get nothin'. Boss do just as he please in coal
mine!”
dug no coa pull them spithin” for deisfaction I get."
the course of the fof these checkshen he sent up a checks
$ 16. There was another way, Old Mike explained, in
which the miner was at the mercy of others; this was the
matter of stealing cars. Each miner had brass checks
with his number on them, and when he sent up a loaded
car, he hung one of these checks on a hook inside. In
the course of the long journey to the tipple, some one would
change the check, and the car was gone. In some mines,
the number was put on the car with chalk; and how easy
it was for some one to rub it out and change it! It ap-
peared to Hal that it would have been a simple matter to
put a number padlock on the car, instead of a check; but
such an equipment would have cost the company one or
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
49
two hundred dollars, he was told, and so the stealing went
on year after year.
“ You think it's the bosses steal these cars?” asked Hal.
“Sometimes bosses, sometimes bosses' friend ---some-
times company himself steal them from miners." In
North Valley it was the company, the old Slovak insisted.
It was no use sending up more than six cars in one day,
he declared; you could never get credit for more than six.
Nor was it worth while loading more than a ton on a car;
they did not really weigh the cars, the boss just ran them
quickly over the scales, and had orders not to go above
a certain average. Mike told of an Italian who had loaded
a car for a test, so high that he could barely pass it under
the roof of the entry, and went up on the tipple and saw
it weighed himself, and it was sixty-five hundred pounds.
They gave him thirty-five hundred, and when he started to
fight, they arrested him. Mike had not seen him arrested,
but when he had come out of the mine, the man was gone,
and nobody ever saw him again. After that they put a
door onto the weigh-room, so that no one could see the
scales.
The more Hal listened to the men and reflected upon
these things, the more he came to see that the miner was a
contractor who had no opportunity to determine the size
of the contract before he took it on, nor afterwards to
determine how much work he had done. More than that,
he was obliged to use supplies, over the price and measure-
ments of which he had no control. He used powder, and
would find himself docked at the end of the month for a
certain quantity, and if the quantity was wrong, he would
have no redress. He was charged a certain sum for
“black-smithing”- the keeping of his tools in order; and
he would find a dollar or two deducted from his account
each month, even though he had not been near the black-
smith shop.
Let any business-man in the world consider the propo-
50
KING COAL
sition, thought Hal, and say if he would take a contract
upon such terms! Would a man undertake to build a
dam, for example, with no chance to measure the ground
in advance, nor any way of determining how many cubic
yards of concrete he had to put in? Would a grocer sell
to a customer who proposed to come into the store and do
his own weighing — and meantime locking the grocer out-
side ? Merely to put such questions was to show the pre-
posterousness of the thing; yet in this district were fifteen
thousand men working on precisely such terms.
Under the state law, the miner had a right to demand
a check-weighman to protect his interest at the scales,
paying this check-weighman's wages out of his own earn-
ings. Whenever there was any public criticism about con-
ditions in the coal-mines, this law would be triumphantly
cited by the operators; and one had to have actual experi-
ence in order to realise what a bitter mockery this was
to the miner.
In the dining-room Hal sat next to a fair-haired Swedish
giant named Johannson, who loaded timbers ten hours a
day. This fellow was one who indulged in the luxury of
speaking his mind, because he had youth and huge nus-
cles, and no family to tie him down. He was what is
called a “blanket-stiff," wandering from mine to harvest-
field and from harvest-field to lumber-camp. Some one
broached the subject of check-weighmen to him, and the
whole table heard his scornful laugh. Let any man ask
for a check-weighman!
“You mean they would fire him?" asked Hal.
“Maybe!” was the answer. “Maybe they make him
fire himself.”
“How do you mean?”
« They make his life one damn misery till he go.”
So it was with check-weighman -- as with scrip, and
with company stores, and with all the provisions of the
law to protect the miner against accidents. You might
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
51
demand your legal rights, but if you did, it was a matter
of the boss's temper. He might make your life one damn
misery till you went of your own accord. Or you might
get a string of curses and an order, “Down the canyon!”
- and likely as not the toe of a boot in your trouser-seat,
or the muzzle of a revolver under your nose.
§ 17. Such conditions made the coal-district a place
of despair. Yet there were men who managed to get along
somehow, and to raise families and keep decent homes.
If one had the luck to escape accident, if he did not marry
too young, or did not have too many children; if he could
manage to escape the temptations of liquor, to which over-
work and monotony drove so many; if, above all, he could
keep on the right side of his boss — why then he might
have a home, and even a little money on deposit with the
company.
Such a one was Jerry Minetti, who became one of Hal's
best friends. He was a Milanese, and his name was
Gerolamo, which had become Jerry in the “ melting-pot."
He was about twenty-five years of age, and what is un-
usual with the Italians, was of good stature. Their meet-
ing took place --- as did most of Hal's social experiences —
on a Sunday. Jerry had just had a sleep and a wash,
and had put on a pair of new blue overalls, so that he pre-
sented a cheering aspect in the sunlight. He walked with
his head up and his shoulders square, and one could see
that he had few cares in the world.
But what caught Hal's attention was not so much Jerry
as what followed at Jerry's heels; a perfect reproduction
of him, quarter-size, also with a newly-washed face and a
pair of new blue overalls. He too had his head up, and
his shoulders square, and he was an irresistible object,
Since the longest strides he could take left him behind,
52
KING COAL
he would break into a run, and getting close under his
father's heels, would begin keeping step once more.
Hal was going in the same direction, and it affected him
like the music of a military band; he too wanted to throw
his head up and square his shoulders and keep step. And
then other people, seeing the grin on his face, would turn
hey went into ans in the rear.*y walked on grav
They went into a house; and Hal, having nothing to do
but enjoy life, stood waiting for them to come out. They
returned in the same procession, only now the man had a
sack of something on his shoulder, while the little chap had
a smaller load poised in imitation. So Hal grinned again,
and when they were opposite him, he said, “Hello."
“Hello,” said Jerry, and stopped. Then, seeing Hal's
grin, he grinned back; and Hal looked at the little chap
and grinned, and the little chap grinned back. Jerry,
seeing what Hal was grinning at, grinned more than ever;
so there stood all three in the middle of the road, grinning
at one another for no apparent reason.
“Gee, but that's a great kid!” said Hal.
“Gee, you bet!” said Jerry; and he set down his sack.
If some one desired to admire the kid, he was willing to
stop any length of time.
Yours?" asked Hal.
“ You bet!” said Jerry, again.
“Hello, Buster!” said Hal.
“Hello yourself !” said the kid. One could see in a
moment that he had been in the “ melting-pot.”
“ What's your name?” asked Hal.
“ Jerry," was the reply.
“ And what's his name?” Hal nodded towards the man.
“ Big Jerry."
“ Got any more like you at home?”
“One more," said Big Jerry. “ Baby.”
“ He ain't like me," said Little Jerry. “He's little."
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
53
“And you're big?" said Hal.
“He can't walk!"
“Neither can you walk!” laughed Hal, and caught him
up and slung him onto his shoulder. “Come on, we'll
ride!”
So Big Jerry took up his sack again, and they started
off; only this time it was Hal who fell behind and kept
step, squaring his shoulders and flinging out his heels.
Little Jerry caught onto the joke, and giggled and kicked
his sturdy legs with delight. Big Jerry would look round,
not knowing what the joke was, but enjoying it just the
same.
They came to the three-room cabin which was Both
Jerrys' home; and Mrs. Jerry came to the door, a black-
eyed Sicilian girl, who did not look old enough to have
even one baby. They had another bout of grinning, at
the end of which Big Jerry said, “You come in?"
« Sure," said Hal.
“ You stay supper," added the other. “Got spaghetti.”
“ Gee!” said Hal. “All right, let me stay, and pay
for it."
“Hell, no!” said Jerry. “You no pay!"
“No! No pay!” cried Mrs. Jerry, shaking her pretty
head energetico pay!” crietim." You no
“All right," said Hal, quickly, seeing that he might
hurt their feelings. “I'll stay if you're sure you have
enough."
“Sure, plenty !” said Jerry. “Hey, Rosa ?”
“Sure, plenty !” said Mrs. Jerry.
“ Then I'll stay," said Hal. “You like spaghetti,
Kid ?"
“ Jesus!” cried Little Jerry.
Hal looked about him at this Dago home. It was a
home in keeping with its pretty occupant. There were
lace curtains in the windows, even shinier and whiter than
at the Rafferties; there was an incredibly bright-coloured
54
KING COAL
rug on the floor, and bright coloured pictures of Mount
Vesuvius and of Garibaldi on the walls. Also there was
a cabinet with many interesting treasures to look at — a
bit of coral and a conch-shell, a shark's tooth and an Indian
arrow-head, and a stuffed linnet with a glass cover over
him. A while back Hal would not have thought of such
things as especially stimulating to the imagination; but
that was before he had begun to spend five-sixths of his
waking hours in the bowels of the earth.
He ate supper, a real Dago supper; the spaghetti proved
to be real Dago spaghetti, smoking hot, with tomato sauce
and a rich flavour of meat-juice. And all through the
meal Hal smacked his lips and grinned at Little Jerry,
who smacked his lips and grinned back. It was all so
different from feeding at Reminitsky's pig-trough, that
Hal thought he had never had such a good supper in his
life before. As for Mr. and Mrs. Jerry, they were so
proud of their wonderful kid, who could swear in English
as good as a real American, that they were in the seventh
heaven.
When the meal was over, Hal leaned back and exclaimed,
just as he had at the Rafferties”, “ Lord, how I wish I could
board here!"
He saw his host look at his wife. “All right,” said he.
“You come here. I board you. Hey, Rosa ?”
.“ Sure,” said Rosa.
Hal looked at them, astonished. “You're sure they'll
let you ?” he asked.
"Let me? Who stop me?"
“I don't know. Maybe Reminitsky. You might get
into trouble.”
Jerry grinned. “I no fraid," said he. “Got friends
here. Carmino my cousin. You know Carmino ?”
“No," said Hal.
“Pit-boss in Number One. He stand by me. Old
Reminitsky go hang! You come here, I give you bunk in
into tu don't in Where
O
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL 55
that room, give you good grub. What you pay Reminit-
sky?"
“Twenty-seven a month."
"All right, you pay me twenty-seven, you get every-
thing good. Can't get much stuff here, but Rosa good
cook, she fix it.”
Hal's new friend — besides being a favourite of the
boss — was a “shot-firer”; it was his duty to go about
the mine at night, setting off the charges of powder which
the miners had got ready by day. This was dangerous
work, calling for a skilled man, and it paid pretty well;
so Jerry got on in the world and was not afraid to speak
his mind, within certain limits. He ignored the possi-
bility that Hal might be a company spy, and astonished
him by rebellious talk of the different kinds of graft in
North Valley, and at other places he had worked since
coming to America as a boy. Minetti was a Socialist,
Hal learned; he took an Italian Socialist paper, and the
clerk at the post-office knew what sort of paper it was, and
would “josh” him about it. What was more remark-
able, Mrs. Minetti was a Socialist also; that meant a great
deal to a man, as Jerry explained, because she was not
under the domination of a priest.
§ 18. Hal made the move at once, sacrificing part of
a month's board, which Reminitsky would charge against
his account with the company. But he was willing to pay
for the privilege of a clean home and clean food. To his
amusement he found that in the eyes of his Irish friends
he was losing caste by going to live with the Minettis.
There were most rigid social lines in North Valley, it
appeared. The Americans and English and Scotch looked
down upon the Welsh and Irish; the Welsh, and Irish
looked down upon the Dagoes and Frenchies; the Dagoes
and Frenchies looked down upon Polacks and Hunkies,
20
56
KING COAL
these in turn upon Greeks, Bulgarians and “Monty-
negroes," and so on through a score of races of Eastern
Europe, Lithuanians, Slovaks, and Croatians, Armenians,
Roumanians, Rumelians, Ruthenians — ending up with
Greasers, niggers, and last and lowest, Japs.
It was when Hal went to pay another call upon the
Rafferties that he made this discovery. Mary Burke hap-
pened to be there, and when she caught sight of him, her
grey eyes beamed with mischief. “How do ye do, Mr.
Minetti ?" she cried.
“ How do ye do, Miss Rosetti ?” he countered.
“ You lika da spagett?”
“ You no lika da spagett?”
“I told ye once," laughed the girl —“the good old per-
taties is good enough for me!”
“And you remember," said he, “what I answered ?"
Yes, she remembered! Her cheeks took on the colour
of the rose-leaves he had specified as her probable diet.
And then the Rafferty children, who had got to know
Hal well, joined in the teasing. “Mister Minetti! Lika
da spagetti!” Hal, when he had grasped the situation,
was tempted to retaliate by reminding them that he had
offered to board with the Irish, and been turned down;
but he feared that the elder Rafferty might not appreciate
this joke, so instead he pretended to have supposed all
along that the Rafferties were Italians. He addressed the
elder Rafferty gravely, pronouncing the name with the
accent on the second syllable — “ Signor Rafférti”; and
this so amused the old man that he chuckled over it at in-
tervals for an hour. His heart warmed to this lively
young fellow; he forgot some of his suspicions, and after
the youngsters had been sent away to bed, he talked more
or less frankly about his life as a coal-miner.
“Old Rafferty" had once been on the way to high sta-
tion. He had been made tipple-boss at the San José mine,
but had given up his job because he had thought that his
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
57
religion did not permit him to do what he was ordered to
do. It had been a crude proposition of keeping the men's
score at a certain level, no matter how much coal they
might send up; and when Rafferty had quit rather than
obey such orders, he had had to leave the mine altogether;
for of course everybody knew why he had quit, and his
mere presence had the effect of keeping discontent alive.
“ You think there are no honest companies at all?"
Hal asked.
The old man answered, “ There be some, but 'tis not so
easy as ye might think to be honest. They have to meet
each other's prices, and when one short-weights, the others
have to. 'Tis a way of cuttin' wages without the men
findin' it out; and there be people that do not like to fall
behind with their profits.” Hal found himself thinking
of old Peter Harrigan, who controlled the General Fuel
Company, and had made the remark: “I am a great
clamourer for dividends!”
“The trouble with the miner," continued Old Rafferty,
“is that he has no one to speak for him. He stands
alone –”
During this discourse, Hal had glanced at“ Red Mary,"
and noticed that she sat with her arms on the table, her
sturdy shoulders bowed in a fashion which told of a hard
day's toil. But here she broke into the conversation; her
voice came suddenly, alive with scorn: “ The trouble
with the miner is that he's a slave!”
“Ah, now _" put in the old man, protestingly.
“He has the whole world against him, and he hasn't
got the sense to get together — to form a union, and stand
by it!”
There fell a sudden silence in the Rafferty home. Even
Hal was startled — for this was the first time during his
stay in the camp that he had heard the dread word
“union” spoken above a whisper.
“I know!” said Mary, her grey eyes full of defiance.
58
KING COAL
“Ye'll not have the word spoken! But some will speak
it in spite of ye!”
“'Tis all very well,” said the old man. “When ye're
young, and a woman too —"
“A woman! Is it only the women that can have
courage ?”
“ Sure," said he, with a wry smile, “'tis the women
that have the tongues, and that can't be stopped from usin'
them. Even the boss must know that." ;
“Maybe so," replied Mary. “And maybe 'tis the
women have the most to suffer in a coal-camp; and maybe
the boss knows that." The girl's cheeks were red.
“Mebbe so," said Rafferty; and after that there was
silence, while he sat puffing his pipe. It was evident that
he did not care to go on, that he did not want union speeches
made in his home. After a while Mrs. Rafferty made a
timid effort to change the course of the talk, by asking
after Mary's sister, who had not been well; and after they
had discussed remedies for the ailments of children, Mary
rose, saying, “ I'll be goin' along."
Hal rose also. “I'll walk with you, if I may,” he said.
“Sure,” said she; and it seemed that the cheerfulness
of the Rafferty family was restored by the sight of a bit
of gallantry.
§ 19. They strolled down the street, and Hal remarked,
“ That's the first word I've heard here about a union.”
Mary looked about her nervously. “Hush!” she whis-
pered.
“But I thought you said you were talking about it!”
She answered, 'Tis one thing, talkin' in a friend's
house, and another outside. What's the good of throwin'
away your job?”
He lowered his voice. “Would you seriously like to
have a union here?”
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
59
“ Seriously?” said she. “Didn't ye see Mr. Rafferty
-- what a coward he is? That's the way they are! No,
'twas just a burst of my temper. I'm a bit crazy to-night
- something happened to set me off.”
He thought she was going on, but apparently she changed
her mind. Finally he asked, “What happened ?”
“Oh, 'twould do no good to talk,” she answered; and
they walked a bit farther in silence.
“Tell me about it, won't you?” he said; and the kind-
ness in his tone made its impression.
"'Tis not much ye know of a coal-camp, Joe Smith,”
she said. “ Can't ye imagine what it's like -- bein' a
woman in a place like this? And a woman they think
good-lookin'!”
"Oh, so it's that!” said he, and was silent again.
“Some one's been troubling you ?” he ventured after a
while.
“ Sure! Some one's always troublin' us women! Al-
ways! Never a day but we hear it. Winks and nudges
- everywhere ye turn."
“The bosses, the clerks — anybody that has a chance to
wear a stiff collar, and thinks he can offer money to a
girl. It begins before she's out of short skirts, and there's
never any peace afterwards.”
“And you can't make them understand ?”
“I've made them understand me a bit; now they go
after my old man."
“What?"
“Sure! D’ye suppose they'd not try that? Him that's
so crazy for liquor, and can never get enough of it!"
“And your father? –" But Hal stopped. She would
not want that question asked !
She had seen his hesitation, however. “He was a de-
cent man once,” she declared. “'Tis the life here, that
turns a man into a coward. 'Tis everything ye need,
60
KING COAL
everywhere ye turn — ye have to ask favours from some
boss. The room ye work in, the dead work they pile on
ye; or maybe 'tis more credit ye need at the store, or
maybe the doctor to come when ye're sick. Just now 'tis
our roof that leaks — so bad we can't find a dry place to
sleep when it rains.”
"I see," said Hal. “Who owns the house?”
“Sure, there's none but company houses here."
“ Who's supposed to fix it?”
“Mr. Kosegi, the house-agent. But we gave him up
long ago --- if he does anything, he raises the rent. To-
day my father went to Mr. Cotton. He's supposed to look
out for the health of the place, and it seems hardly healthy
to keep people wet in their beds."
“And what did Cotton say?" asked Hal, when she
stopped again.
Well, don't ye know Jeff Cotton — can't ye guess what
he'd say? "That's a fine girl ye got, Burke! Why don't
ye make her listen to reason?' And then he laughed, and
told me old father he'd better learn to take a hint. 'Twas
bad for an old man to sleep in the rain -- he might get
carried off by pneumonia."
Hal could no longer keep back the question, “What did
your father do?”
“I'd not have ye think hard of my old father," she
before O'Callahan had his way with him. But now he
knows what a camp-marshal can do to a miner!”
$ 20. Mary Burke had said that the company could
stand breaking the bones of its men; and not long after
Number Two started up again, Hal had a chance to note
the truth of this assertion.
A miner's life depended upon the proper timbering of
the room where he worked. The company undertook to
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
furnish the timbers, but when the miner needed them, he
would find none at hand, and would have to make the mile-
long trip to the surface. He would select timbers of the
proper length, and would mark them - the understanding
being that they were to be delivered to his room by some
of the labourers. But then some one else would carry
them off — here was more graft and favouritism, and the
miner might lose a day or two of work, while meantime
his account was piling up at the store, and his children
might have no shoes to go to school. Sometimes he would
give up waiting for timbers, and go on taking out coal; so
there would be a fall of rock — and the coroner’s jury
would bring in a verdict of “negligence," and the coal-
operators would talk solemnly about the impossibility of
teaching caution to miners. Not so very long ago Hal
had read an interview which the president of the General
Fuel Company had given to a newspaper, in which he set
forth the idea that the more experience a miner had the
more dangerous it was to employ him, because he thought
he knew it all, and would not heed the wise regulations
which the company laid down for his safety!
In Number Two mine there were some places being
operated by the room and pillar" method; the coal
being taken out as from a series of rooms, the portion
corresponding to the walls of the rooms being left to uphold
the roof. These walls are the “pillars”; and when the
end of the vein is reached, the miner begins to work back-
wards, “pulling the pillars," and letting the roof collapse
behind him. This is a dangerous task; as he works, the
man has to listen to the drumming sounds of the rock above
his head, and has to judge just when to make his escape.
Sometimes he is too anxious to save a tool; or sometimes
the collapse comes without warning. In that case the vic-
tim is seldom dug out; for it must be admitted that a man
buried under a mountain is as well buried as a company
could be expected to arrange it.
whichew it all, and we to employ him. Ha miner had the
62
KING COAL
him. Nike. Sikor helped to foo great of his
In Number Two mine a man was caught in this way.
He stumbled as he ran, and the lower half of his body was
pinned fast; the doctor had to come and pump opiates into
him, while the rescue crew was digging him loose. The
first Hal knew of the accident was when he saw the body
stretched out on a plank, with a couple of old sacks to cover
it. He noticed that nobody stopped for a second glance.
Going up from work, he asked his friend Madvik, the
mule driver, who answered, “ Lituanian feller — got
mash.” And that was all. Nobody knew him, and no-
body cared about him.
It happened that Mike. Sikoria had been working
nearby, and was one of those who helped to get the victim
out. Mike's negro" buddy" had been in too great haste
to get some of the rock out of the way, and had got his
hand crushed, and would not be able to work for a month
or so. Mike told Hal about it, in his broken English. It
was a terrible thing to see a man trapped like that, gasping,
his eyes almost popping out of his head. Fortunately he
was a young fellow, and had no family.
Hal asked what they would do with the body; the answer
was they would bury him in the morning. The company
had a piece of ground up the canyon.
“But won't they have an inquest ?” he inquired.
“Inques' ?" repeated the other. “What's he?"
“Doesn't the coroner see the body?”
The old Slovak shrugged his bowed shoulders; if there
was a coroner in this part of the world, he had never heard
of it; and he had worked in a good many mines, and seen
a good many men put under the ground. “Put him in a
box and dig a hole,” was the way he described the pro-
cedure.
“And doesn't the priest come?”
“Priest too far away.”
Afterwards Hal made inquiry among the English-speak-
ing men, and learned that the coroner did sometimes come
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
63
to the camp. He would empanel a jury consisting of Jeff
Cotton, the marshal, and Predovich, the Galician Jew who
worked in the company store, and a clerk or two from the
company's office, and a couple of Mexican labourers who
had no idea what it was all about. This jury would view
the corpse, and ask a couple of men what had happened,
and then bring in a verdict:" We find that the deceased
met his death from a fall of rock caused by his own fault.”
(In one case they had added the picturesque detail: “No
relatives, and damned few friends!")
For this service the coroner got a fee, and the company
got an official verdict, which would be final in case some
foreign consul should threaten a damage suit. So well
did they have matters in hand that nobody in North Val-
ley had ever got anything for death or injury; in fact, as
Hal found later, there had not been a damage suit filed
against any coal-operator in that county for twenty-three
years!
This particular accident was of consequence to Hal, be-
cause it got him a chance to see the real work of mining.
Old Mike was without a helper, and made the proposition
that Hal should take the job. It was better than a stable-
man's, for it paid two dollars a day.
“But will the boss let me change ?” asked Hal.
“You give him ten dollar, he change you," said Mike.
“ Sorry," said Hal, “I haven't got ten dollars."
“ You give him ten dollar credit,” said the other.
And Hal laughed. “They take scrip for graft, do
they?”
“ Sure they take him," said Mike.
“Suppose I treat my mules bad?” continued the other.
“So I can make him change me for nothing!”
“He change you to hell!” replied Mike. “You get
him cross, he put us in bad room, cost us ten dollar a week.
No, sir - you give him drink, say fine feller, make him
feel good. You talk American — give him jolly!"
1
64
KING COAL
you hal bad whose led crosan to Wa Bohemote
8 21. Hal was glad of this opportunity to get better
acquainted with his pit-boss. Alec Stone was six feet
high, and built in proportion, with arms like hams — soft
with fat, yet possessed of enormous strength. He had
learned his manner of handling men on a sugar-plantation
in Louisiana — a fact which, when Hal heard it, explained
much. Like a stage-manager who does not heed the real
names of his actors, but calls them by their character-
names, Stone had the habit of addressing his men by their
nationalities: “You, Polack, get that rock into the car!
Hey, Jap, bring them tools over here! Shut your mouth,
now, Dago, and get to work, or I'll kick the breeches off
you, sure as you're alive!”
Hal had witnessed one occasion when there was a dis-
pute as to whose duty it was to move timbers. There was
a great two-handled cross-cut saw lying on the ground, and
Stone seized it and began to wave it, like a mighty broad-
sword, in the face of a little Bohemian miner. “Load
them timbers, Hunkie, or I'll carve you into bits!" And
as the terrified man shrunk back, he followed, until his
victim was flat against a wall, the weapon swinging to and
fro under his nose after the fashion of “ The Pit and the
Pendulum.” “ Carve you into pieces, Hunkie! Carve
you into stew-meat!” When at last the boss stepped back,
the little Bohemian leaped to load the timbers.
The curious part about it to Hal was that Stone seemed
to be reasonably good-natured about such proceedings.
Hardly one time in a thousand did he carry out his blood-
thirsty threats, and like as not he would laugh when he
had finished his tirade, and the object of it would grin in
turn — but without slackening his frightened efforts.
After the broad-sword waving episode, seeing that Hal had
been watching, the boss remarked, “That's the way you
have to manage them wops." Hal took this remark as a
tribute to his American blood, and was duly flattered.
He sought out the boss that evening, and found him
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
1
with his feet upon the railing of his home. “Mr. Stone,"
said he, “I've something I'd like to ask you.”
“ Fire away, kid,” said the other.
“Won't you come up to the saloon and have a drink?"
“Want to get something out of me, hey? You can't
work me, kid!” But nevertheless he slung down his feet
from the railing, and knocked the ashes out of his pipe and
strolled up the street with Hal.
“Mr. Stone," said Hal, “I want to make a change.”
“ What's that? Got a grouch on them mules ?”
“No, sir, but I got a better job in sight. Mike Sikoria's
buddy is laid up, and I'd like to take his place, if you're
willing."
“Why, that's a nigger's place, kid. Ain't you scared
to take a nigger's place?”
“Why, sir?"
“Don't you know about hoodoos ?”
“ What I want," said Hal, “is the nigger's pay.”
"No," said the boss, abruptly, “you stick by them
mules. I got a good stableman, and I don't want to spoil
him. You stick, and by and by I'll give you a raise. You
go into them pits, the first thing you know you'll get a fall
of rock on your head, and the nigger's pay won't be no
good to you.”
They came to the saloon and entered. Hal noted that a
silence fell within, and every one nodded and watched.
It was pleasant to be seen going out with one's boss.
O’Callahan, the proprietor, came forward with his best
society smile and joined them, and at Hal's invitation they
ordered whiskies. “No, you stick to your job,” continued
the pit-boss. “You stay by it, and when you've learned
to manage mules, I'll make a boss out of you, and let you
manage men.”
"Some of the bystanders tittered. The pit-boss poured
down his whiskey, and set the glass on the bar. “That's
no joke," said he, in a tone that every one could hear. “I
66
KING COAL
learned that long ago about niggers. They'd say to me,
For God's sake, don't talk to our niggers like that. Some
night you'll have your house set afire. But I said, 'Pet a
nigger, and you've got a spoiled nigger. I'd say, 'Nigger,
don't you give me any of your imp, or I'll kick the breeches
off you.' And they knew I was a gentleman, and they
stepped lively."
“ Have another drink,” said Hal.
The pit-boss drank, and becoming more sociable, told
nigger stories. On the sugar-plantations there was a rush
season, when the rule was twenty hours' work a day; when
some of the niggers tried to shirk it, they would arrest
them for swearing or crap-shooting, and work them as con-
victs, without pay. The pit-boss told how one “buck"
had been brought before the justice of the peace, and the
charge read, “ being cross-eyed ”; for which offence he
dote was enjoyed by the men iņ the saloon — whose race-
feelings seemed to be stronger than their class-feelings.
When the pair went out again, it was late, and the boss
was cordial. “Mr. Stone," began Hal, “I don't want to
bother you, but I'd like first rate to get more pay. If you
could see your way to let me have that buddy's job, I'd be
more than glad to divide with you."
“Divide with me?” said Stone. “How d’ye mean?"
Hal waited with some apprehension — for if Mike had not
assured him so positively, he would have expected a swing
from the pit-boss's mighty arm.
“It's worth about fifteen a month more to me. I
haven't any cash, but if you'd be willing to charge off ten
dollars from my store-account, it would be well worth my
while."
They walked for a short way in silence. “Well, I'll
tell you," said the boss, at last; “ that old Slovak is a
kicker — one of these fellows that thinks he could run the
mine if he had a chance. And if you get to listenin' to
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL 67
him, and think you can come to me and grumble, by
God »
“That's all right, sir," put in Hal, quickly. “I'll
manage that for you — I'll shut him up. If you'd like
me to, I'll see what fellows he talks with, and if any of
them are trying to make trouble, I'll tip you off.”
“Now that's the talk," said the boss, promptly. “You
do that, and I'll keep my eye on you and give you a chance.
Not that I'm afraid of the old fellow — I told him last
time that if I heard from him again, I'd kick the breeches
off him. But when you got half a thousand of this foreign
scum, some of them Anarchists, and some of them Bulgars
and Montynegroes that's been fightin' each other at
home"
“I understand," said Hal. “You have to watch 'em."
“That's it,” said the pit-boss. “And by the way, when
you tell the store-clerk about that fifteen dollars, just say
you lost it at poker.”
"I said ten dollars," put in Hal, quickly.
“Yes, I know,” responded the other. “But I said fif-
teen!”
$ 22. Hal told himself with satisfaction that he was
now to do the real work of coal-mining. His imagination
had been occupied with it for a long time; but as so often
happens in the life of man, the first contact with reality
killed the results of many years' imagining. It killed all
imagining, in fact; Hal found that his entire stock of
energy, both mental and physical, was consumed in en-
during torment. If any one had told him the horror of
attempting to work in a room five feet high, he would not
have believed it. It was like some of the dreadful devices
of torture which one saw in European castles, the “iron
maiden” and the “spiked collar." Hal's back burned as
if hot irons were being run up and down it; every separate
KING COAL
joint and muscle cried aloud. It seemed as if he could
never learn the lesson of the jagged ceiling above his head
- he bumped it and continued to bump it, until his scalp
was a mass of cuts and bruises, and his head ached till he
was nearly blind, and he would have to throw himself flat
on the ground.
Then old Mike Sikoria would grin. “I know. Like
green mule! Some day get tough!”
Hal recalled the great thick callouses on the flanks of
his former charges, where the harness rubbed against them.
“Yes, I'm a 'green mule,' all right!”
It was amazing how many ways there were to bruise and
tear one's fingers, loading lumps of coal into a car. He
put on a pair of gloves, but these wore through in a day.
And then the gas, and the smoke of powder, stifling one;
and the terrible burning of the eyes, from the dust and the
feeble light. There was no way to rub these burning
eyes, because everything about one was equally dusty.
Could anybody have imagined the torment of that — any
of those ladies who rode in softly upholstered parlour-cars,
or reclined upon the decks of steam-ships in gleaming
tropic seas?
Old Mike was good to his new “buddy.” Mike's spine
was bent and his hands were hardened by forty years of
this sort of toil, so he could do the work of two men, and
entertain his friend with comments into the bargain. The
old fellow had the habit of talking all the time, like a
child; he would talk to his helper, to himself, to his tools.
He would call these tools by obscene and terrifying names
-- but with entire friendliness and good humour. “ Get
in there, you son-of-a-gun!” he would say to his pick.
“ Come along here, you wop!” he would say to his car.
“In with you, now, you old buster!” he would say to a
lump of coal. And he would lecture Hal on the details
of mining. He would tell stories of successful days, or
of terrible mishaps. Above all he would tell about ras-
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL 69
cality — cursing the “G. F. C.,” its foremen and super-
intendents, its officials, directors and stock-holders, and
the world which permitted such a criminal institution to
exist.
Noon-time would come, and Hal would lie upon his
back, too worn to eat. Old Mike would sit munching; his
abundant whiskers came to a point on his chin, and as his
jaws moved, he looked for all the world like an aged billy-
goat. He was a kind-hearted and anxious old billy-goat,
and sought to tempt his buddy with a bit of cheese or a swig
of cold coffee. He believed in eating —no man could
keep up steam if he did not stoke the furnace. Failing in
this, he would try to divert Hal's mind, telling stories of
mining-life in America and Russia. He was most proud
to have an “American feller" for a buddy, and tried to
make the work as easy as possible, for fear lest Hal might
quit.
Hal did not quit; but he would drag himself out towards
night, so exhausted that he would fall asleep in the cage.
He would fall asleep at supper, and go in and sink down
on his cot and sleep like a log. And oh, the torture of
being routed out before daybreak! Having to shake the
sleep out of his head, and move his creaking joints, and
become aware of the burning in his eyes, and the blisters
It was a week before he had a moment that was not
pain; and he never got fully used to the labour. It was
impossible for any one to work so hard and keep his men-
tal alertness, his eagerness and sensitiveness; it was impos-
sible to work so hard and be an adventurer - to be any-
thing, in fact, but a machine. Hal had heard that phrase
of contempt, “the inertia of the masses," and had won-
dered about it. He no longer wondered, he knew. Could
a man be brave enough to protest to a pit-boss when his
body was numb with weariness? Could he think out a
definite conclusion as to his rights and wrongs, and back
KING COAL
his conclusion with effective action, when his mental facul-
ties were paralysed by such weariness of body?
Hal had come here, as one goes upon the deck of a ship
in mid-ocean, to see the storm. In this ocean of social
misery, of ignorance and despair, one saw upturned, tor-
tured faces, writhing limbs and clutching hands; in one's
ears was a storm of lamentation, upon one's cheek a spray
of blood and tears. Hal found himself so deep in this
ocean that he could no longer find consolation in the
thought that he could escape whenever he wanted to: that
he could say to himself, It is sad, it is terrible — but thank
God, I can get out of it when I choose! I can go back
into the warm and well-lighted saloon and tell the other
passengers how picturesque it is, what an interesting ex-
perience they are missing!
be called she came in tevening, the Minot go
§ 23. During these days of torment, Hal did not go
to see “Red Mary”.; but then, one evening, the Minettis'
baby having been sick, she came in to ask about it, bring-
ing what she called “ a bit of a custard” in a bowl. Hal
was suspicious enough of the ways of men, especially of
business-men; but when it came to women he was without
insight - it did not occur to him as singular that an Irish
girl with many troubles at home should come out to nurse
a Dago woman's baby. He did not reflect that there were
plenty of sick Irish babies in the camp, to whom Mary
might have taken her “ bit of a custard.” And when he
saw the surprise of Rosa, who had never met Mary before,
he took it to be the touching gratitude of the poor!
There are, in truth, many kinds of women, with many
arts, and no man has time to learn them all. Hal had ob-
served the shop-girl type, who dress themselves with many
frills, and cast side-long glances, and indulge in fits of
giggles to attract the attention of the male; he was familiar
with the society-girl type, who achieve the same end with
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
more subtle and alluring means. But could there be a
type who hold little Dago babies in their laps, and call
them pretty Irish names, and feed them custard out of a
spoon? Hal had never heard of that kind, and he thought
that “Red Mary” made a charming picture – a Celtic
madonna with a Sicilian infant in her arms.
He noticed that she was wearing the same faded blue
calico-dress with a patch on the shoulder. Man though he
was, he realised that dress is an important consideration
in the lives of women. He was tempted to suspect that
this blue calico might be the only dress that Mary owned ;
but seeing it newly laundered every time, he concluded
that she must have at least one other. At any rate, here
she was, crisp and fresh-looking; and with the new shining
costume, she had put on the long promised “company
manner": high spirits and badinage, precisely like any
belle of the world of luxury, who powders and bedecks
herself for a ball. She had been grim and complaining in
former meetings with this interesting young man; she had
frightened him away, apparently; perhaps she could win
him back by womanliness and good humour.
She rallied him upon his battered scalp and his creaking
back, telling him he looked ten years older — which he was
fully prepared to believe. Also she had fun with him for
working under a Slovak — another loss of caste, it ap-
peared! This was a joke the Minettis could share in
especially Little Jerry, who liked jokes. He told Mary
how Joe Smith had had to pay fifteen dollars for his new
job, besides several drinks at O’Callahan’s. Also he told
how Mike Sikoria had called Joe his “green mule.” Lit-
tle Jerry complained about the turn of events, for in the
old days Joe had taught him a lot of fine new games —
and now he was sore, and would not play them. Also, in
the old days he had sung a lot of jolly songs, full of the
most fascinating rhymes. There was a song about a
« monkey puzzle tree"! Had Mary ever seen that kind of
JU
72
KING COAL
tree? Little Jerry never got tired of trying to imagine
what it might look like.
The Dago urchin stood and watched gravely while Mary
fed the custard to the baby; and when two or three spoon-
fuls were held out to him, he opened his mouth wide, and
afterwards licked his lips. Gee, that was good stuff!
When the last taste was gone, he stood gazing at Mary's.
shining coronet. “Say,” said he,“ was your hair always
like that?"
Hal and Mary burst into laughter, while Rosa cried
“Hush!” She was never sure what this youngster would
say next.
“ Sure, did ye think I painted it?" asked Mary.
“I didn't know," said Little Jerry. “It looks so nice
and new.” And he turned to Hal. “Ain't it?”
“You bet," said Hal, and added, “Go on and tell her
about it. Girls like compliments.”
“ Compliments ? " echoed Little Jerry. “What's
that?”
“Why," said Hal, “ that's when you say that her hair
is like the sunrise, and her eyes are like twilight, or that
she's a wild rose on a mountain-side.”
“Oh," said the Dago urchin, somewhat doubtfully.
“ Anyhow," he added, " she make nice custard ! ”
$ 24. The time came for Mary to take her departure,
and Hal got up, wincing with pain, to escort her home.
She regarded him gravely, having not realised before how
seriously he was suffering. As they walked along she
asked, “Why do ye do such work, when ye don't have
to?"
“But I do have to! I have to earn a living ! "
“Ye don't have to earn it that way! A bright young
fellow like you — an American !" B
“Well,” said Hal, “I thought it would be interesting
to see coal mining.'
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
73
But it Horon a plan was some 'she semith.com
.
“ Now ye've seen it,” said the girl —"now quit!”
“But it won't do me any harm to go on for a while!”
“Won't it? How can ye know? When any day they
may carry you out on a plank!”
Her “company manner” was gone; her voice was full
of bitterness, as it always was when she spoke of North
Valley. “I know what I'm tellin' ye, Joe Smith. Didn't
I lose two brothers in it — as fine lads as ye'd find any-
where in the world! And many another lad I've seen go
in laughin', and come out a corpse – or what is worse, for
workin' people, a cripple. Sometimes I'd like to go and
stand at the pit-mouth in the mornin' and cry to them, 'Go
back, go back! Go down the canyon this day! Starve,
if ye have to, beg if ye have to, only find some other work
but coal-minin'!'"
Her voice had risen to a passion of protest; when she
went on a new note came into it — a note of personal
terror. “It's worse now — since you came, Joe! To see
ye settin' out on the life of a miner — you, that are young
and strong and different. Oh, go away, Joe, go away
while ye can!”
He was astonished at her intensity. “Don't worry
about me, Mary,” he said. “Nothing will happen to me.
I'll go away after a while."
The path was irregular, and he had been holding her
arm as they walked. He felt her trembling, and went
on again, quickly, “It's not I that should go away, Mary.
It's yourself. You hate the place — it's terrible for you
to have to live here. Have you never thought of going
away?"
She did not answer at once, and when she did the ex-
citement was gone from her voice; it was flat and dull with
despair. “'Tis no use to think of me. There's nothin'
I can do — there's nothin' any girl can do when she's poor.
I've tried — but 'tis like bein' up against a stone wall. I
can't even save the money to get on a train with! I've
KING COAL
see a man ir being cowardat_wring the he
tried it - I been savin' for two years — and how much
d'ye think I got, Joe? Seven dollars! Seven dollars in
two years! No- ye can't save money in a place where
there's so many things that wring the heart. Ye may
hate them for being cowards — but ye must help when ye
see a man killed, and his family turned out without a roof
to cover them in the winter-time!”.
“You're too tender-hearted, Mary."
“No, 'tis not that! Should I go off and leave me own
brother and sister, that need me?"
“But you could earn money and send it to them.”
“I earn a little here — I do cleanin' and nursin' for
some that need me.”
“But outside — couldn't you earn more?”
“I could get a job in a restaurant for seven or eight a
week, but I'd have to spend more, and what I sent home
would not go so far, with me away. Or I could get a job
in some other woman's home, and work fourteen hours a
day for it. But, Joe, 'tis not more drudgery I want, 'tis
somethin' fair to look upon - somethin' of my own!”
She fung out her arms suddenly like one being stifled.
“Oh, I want somethin' that's fair and clean!"
Again be felt her trembling. Again the path was
rough, and having an impulse of sympathy, he put his arm
about her. In the world of leisure, one might indulge in
such considerateness, and he assumed it would not be dif-
ferent with a miner's daughter. But then, when she was
close to him, he felt, rather than heard, a sob.
“Mary!” he whispered; and they stopped. Almost
without realising it, he put his other arm about her, and in
a moment more he felt her warm breath on his cheek, and
she was trembling and shaking in his embrace. “Joe!
Joe!” she whispered. “You take me away!”
She was a rose in a mining-camp, and Hal was deeply
moved. The primrose path of dalliance stretched fair
before him, here in the soft summer night, with a moon
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
75
overhead which bore the same message as it bore in the
Italian gardens of the leisure-class. But not many min-
utes passed before a cold fear began to steal over Hal.
There was a girl at home, waiting for him; and also there
was the resolve which had been growing in him since his
coming to this place -- a resolve to find some way of com-
pensation to the poor, to repay them for the freedom and
· culture he had taken; not to prey upon them, upon any
individual among them. There were the Jeff Cottons for
that!
“Mary,” he pleaded, “ we mustn't do this."
“Why not?"
“Because -- I'm not free. There is some one else.”
He felt her start, but she did not draw away.
“Where?” she asked, in a low voice.
“At home, waiting for me."
“And why didn't ye tell me?"
“I don't know."
Hal realised in a moment that the girl had ground
of complaint against him. According to the simple code
of her world, he had gone some distance with her; he had
been seen to walk out with her, he had been accounted
her“ fellow." He had led her to talk to him of herself —
he had insisted upon having her confidences. And these
people who were poor did not have subtleties, there was no
room in their lives for intellectual curiosities, for Platonic
friendships or philanderings. “Forgive me, Mary!” he
said.
She made no answer; but a sob escaped her, and she
drew back from his arms - slowly. He struggled with
an impulse to clasp her again. She was beautiful, warm
with life — and so much in need of happiness!
But he held himself in check, and for a minute or two
they stood apart. Then he asked, humbly, “ We can still
be friends, Mary, can't we? You must know — I'm so
sorry!”
76
KING COAL
But she could not endure being pitied. “'Tis nothin',"
she said. “Only I thought I was going to get away!
That's what ye mean to me.”
§ 25. Hal had promised Alec Stone to keep a look-out
for trouble-makers; and one evening the boss stopped him
on the street, and asked him if he had anything to report.
Hal took the occasion to indulge his sense of humour.
“There's no harm in Mike Sikoria,” said he. “He
likes to shoot off his head, but if he's got somebody to
listen, that's all he wants. He's just old and grouchy.
But there's another fellow that I think would bear watch-
ing.”
“ Who's that?" asked the boss.
“I don't know his last name. They call him Gus and
he's a 'cager. Fellow with a red face.”
“I know,” said Stone –“Gus Durking.”
“Well, he tried his best to get me to talk about unions.
He keeps bringing it up, and I think he's some kind of
trouble-maker.”
“I see," said the boss. “I'll get after him.”
“ You won't say I told you,” said Hal, anxiously.
“Oh, no— sure not.” And Hal caught the trace of a
smile on the pit-boss's face.
He went away, smiling in his turn. The “red-faced
feller, Gus," was the person Madvik had named as being
a “spotter” for the company!
• There were ins and outs to this matter of " spotting,"
and sometimes it was not easy to know what to think. One
Sunday morning Hal went for a walk up the canyon, and
on the way he met a young chap who got to talking with
him, and after a while brought up the question of work-
ing-conditions in North Valley. He had only been there
a week, he said, but everybody he had met seemed to be
grumbling about short weight. He himself had a job as
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
77
an “outside man," so it made no difference to him, but
he was interested, and wondered what Hal had found.
Straightway came the question, was this really a work-
ingman, or had Alec Stone set some one to spying upon
his spy. This was an intelligent fellow, an American-
which in itself was suspicious, for most of the new men the
company got in were from “somewhere East of Suez."
Hal decided to spar for a while. He did not know, he
said, that conditions were any worse here than elsewhere.
You heard complaints, no matter what sort of job you took.
Yes, said the stranger, but matters seemed to be espe-
cially bad in the coal-camps. Probably it was because
they were so remote, and the companies owned everything
in sight.
Where have you been?” asked Hal, thinking that this
might trap him.
But the other answered straight; he had evidently
worked in half a dozen of the camps. In Mateo he had
paid a dollar a month for wash-house privileges, and there
had never been any water after the first three men had
washed. There had been a common wash-tub for all the
men, an unthinkably filthy arrangement. At Pine Creek
--Hal found the very naming of the place made his heart
stand still — at Pine Creek he had boarded with his boss,
but the roof of the building leaked, and everything he
owned was ruined; the boss would do nothing — yet when
the boarder moved, he lost his job. At East Ridge; this
man and a couple of other fellows had rented a two room
cabin and started to board themselves, in spite of the fact
that they had to pay a dollar-fifty a sack for potatoes and
eleven cents a pound for sugar at the company store.
They had continued until they made the discovery that the
water supply had run short, and that the water for which
they were paying the company a dollar a month was being
pumped from the bottom of the mine, where the filth of
mules and men was plentiful!
78
KING COAL
Hal forced himself to remain non-committal; he shook
his head and said it was too bad, but the workers always
got it in the neck, and he didn't see what they could do
about it. So they strolled back to the camp, the stranger
evidently baffled, and Hal, for his part, feeling like the
reader of a detective story at the end of the first chapter.
Was this young man the murderer, or was he the hero?
One would have to read on in the book to find out!
$ 26. Hal kept his eye upon his new acquaintance, and
perceived that he was talking with others. Before long
the man tackled Old Mike; and Mike of course could not
refuse an invitation to grumble, though it came from the
devil himself. Hal decided that something must be done
He consulted his friend Jerry, who, being a radical,
might have some touch-stone by which to test the stranger.
Jerry sought him out at noon-time, and came back and
reported that he was as much in the dark as Hal. Either
the man was an agitator, seeking to “start something,"
or else he was a detective sent in by the company. There
was only one way to find out — which was for some one
to talk freely with him, and see what happened to that
person!
After some hesitation, Hal decided that he would be
the victim. It rewakened his love of adventure, which
digging in a coal-mine had subdued in him. The mys-
terious stranger was a new sort of miner, digging into the
souls of men; Hal would countermine him, and perhaps
blow him up. He could afford the experiment better than
some others — better, for example, than little Mrs. David,
who had already taken the stranger into her home, and
revealed to him the fact that her husband had been a
member of the most revolutionary of all miners' organisa-
tions, the South Wales Federation.
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
79
So next Sunday Hal invited the stranger for another
walk. The man showed reluctance - until Hal said that
he wanted to talk to him. As they walked up the canyon,
Hal began, “I've been thinking about what you said of
conditions in these camps, and I've concluded it would
be a good thing if we had a little shaking up here in North
Valley."
“Is that so?" said the other.
“When I first came here, I used to think the men were
grouchy. But now I've had a chance to see for myself,
and I don't believe anybody gets a square deal. For one
thing, nobody gets full weight in these mines — at least
not unless he's some favourite of the boss. I'm sure of it,
for I've tried all sorts of experiments with my partner.
We've loaded a car extra light, and got eighteen hundred-
weight, and then we've loaded one high and solid, so that
we'd know it had twice as much in it- but all we ever
way you can get over that — though everybody knows
those big cars can be made to hold two or three tons."
“Yes, I suppose they might," said the other.
“ And if you get the smallest piece of rock in, you get
a 'double-0,' sure as fate; and sometimes they say you got
rock in when you didn't. There's no law to make them
prove it."
“ No, I suppose not.” .
“What it comes to is simply this — they make you
think they are paying fifty-five a ton, but they've secretly
cut you down to thirty-five. And yesterday at the com-
pany-store I paid a dollar and a half for a pair of blue
overalls that I'd priced in Pedro for sixty cents."
“Well,” said the other, " the company has to haul them
up here, you know!”
So, gradually, Hal made the discovery that the tables
were turned — the mysterious personage was now occu-
pied in holding him at arm's length! For some reason,
80
KING COAL
Hal's sudden interest in industrial justice had failed to
make an impression.
So his career as a detective came to an inglorious end.
“ Say, man!” he exclaimed “What's your game, any-
how?"
“Game?” said the other, quietly, “How do you
mean?"
“I mean, what are you here for ?"
“I'm here for two dollars a day — the same as you, I
guess."
Hal began to laugh. “You and I are like a couple of
submarines, trying to find each other under water. I
think we'd better come to the surface to do our fighting.”
The other considered the simile, and seemed to like it.
“ You come first,” said he. But he did not smile. His
quiet blue eyes were fixed on Hal with deadly serious-
ness.
“ All right,” said Hal; “my story isn't very thrilling.
I'm not an escaped convict, I'm not a company spy, as you
may be thinking. Nor am I a'natural born'coal-miner.
I happen to have a brother and some friends at home who
think they know about the coal-industry, and it got on
my nerves, and I came to see for myself. That's all, ex-
cept that I've found things interesting, and want to stay
on a while, so I hope you aren't a 'dick'!” .
The other walked in silence, weighing Hal's words.
“ That's not exactly what you'd call a usual story," he
remarked, at last.
“I know," replied Hal. “The best I can say for it
is that it's true.”
“Well,” said the stranger, “I'll take a chance on it.
I have to trust somebody, if I'm ever to get anywhere. I
picked you out because I liked your face.” He gave Hal
another searching look as he walked. “Your smile isn't
that of a cheat. But you're young — so let me remind
you of the importance of secrecy in this place.”
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL 81
“I'll keep mum," said Hal; and the stranger opened a
flap inside his shirt, and drew out a letter which certified
him to be Thomas Olson, an organiser for the United
Mine-Workers, the great national union of the coal-miners !
$.27. Hal was so startled by this discovery that he
stopped in his tracks and gazed at the man. He had
heard a lot about "trouble-makers” in the camps, but so
far the only kind he had seen were those hired by the com-
pany to make trouble for the men. But now, here was a
union organiser! Jerry had suggested the possibility, but
Hal had not thought of it seriously; an organiser was a
mythological creature, whispered about by the miners,
cursed by the company and its servants, and by Hal's
friends at home. An incendiary, a fire-brand, a loud-
mouthed, irresponsible person, stirring up blind and dan-
gerous passions! Having heard such things all his life,
Hal's first impulse was of distrust. He felt like the one-
legged old switchman who had given him a place to sleep,
after his beating at Pine Creek, and who had said, “Don't
you talk no union business to me!”.
Seeing Hal's emotion, the organiser gave an uneasy
laugh. " While you're hoping I'm not a "dick,' I trust
you understand I'm hoping you're not one.”
Hal's answer was to the point. “I was taken for an
organiser once,” he said, and his hands sought the seat of
his ancient bruises.
The other laughed. “You got off with a beating? You
were lucky. Down in Alabama, not so long ago, they
tarred and feathered one of us."
Dismay came upon Hal's face; but after a moment he
too began to laugh. “I was just thinking about my
brother and his friends — what they'd have said if I'd
come home from Pine Creek in a coat of tar and feath-
ers! »
82
KING COAL
“Possibly," ventured the other, “ they'd have said you
got what you deserved.”
“Yes, that seems to be their attitude. That's the rule
they apply to all the world — if anything goes wrong with
you, it must be your own fault. It's a land of equal
opportunity."
"And you'll notice," said the organiser, “ that the more
privileges people have had, the more boldly they talk that
way."
Hal began to feel a sense of comradeship with this
stranger, who was able to understand one's family trou-
bles! It had been a long time since Hal had talked with
any one from the outside world, and he found it a relief
to his mind. He remembered how, after he had got his
beating, he had lain out in the rain and congratulated
himself that he was not what the guards had taken him
for. Now he was curious about the psychology of an or-
ganiser. A man must have strong convictions to follow
that occupation!
can have my pay any time you'll do my work. But let
me tell you, too, it isn't being beaten and kicked out of
camp that bothers one most; it isn't the camp-marshal and
the spy and the blacklist. Your worst troubles are in-
side the heads of the fellows you're trying to help!
Have you ever thought what it would mean to try to
explain things to men who speak twenty different lan-
guages ?”
“Yes, of course," said Hal. “I wonder how you ever
get a start.”
« Well, you look for an interpreter – and maybe he's
a company spy. Or maybe the first man you try to con-
vert reports you to the boss. For, of course, some of the
men are cowards, and some of them are crooks; they'll sell
out the next fellow for a better place'maybe for a
glass of beer.”
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
83
“That must have a tendency to weaken your convic-
tions,” said Hal.
“No," said the other, in a matter of fact tone. “It's
hard, but one can't blame the poor devils. They're ig-
norant -- kept so deliberately. The bosses bring them
here, and have a regular system to keep them from getting
together. And of course these European peoples have
their old prejudices — national prejudices, religious
prejudices, that keep them apart. You see two fellows,
one you think is exactly as miserable as the other — but
you find him despising the other, because back home he
was the other's superior. So they play into the bosses'
hands."
$ 28. They had come to a remote place in the canyon,
and found themselves seats on a flat rock, where they
could talk in comfort.
“Put yourself in their place,” said the organiser.
“ They're in a strange country, and one person tells them
one thing, and another tells them something else. The
masters and their agents say: 'Don't trust the union
agitators. They're a lot of grafters, they live easy and
don't have to work. They take your money and call you
out on strike, and you lose your jobs and your home; they
sell you out, maybe, and go on to some other place to
repeat the same trick. And the workers think maybe
that's true; they haven't the wit to see that if the union
leaders are corrupt, it must be because the bosses are buy-
ing them. So you see, they're completely bedevilled; they
don't know which way to turn."
The man was speaking quietly, but there was a little
glow of excitement in his face. « The company is forever
who are stirring them up. But are they satisfied ?
You've been here long enough to know!”
84
KING COAL
1
“There's no need to discuss that,” Hal answered. “Of
course they're not satisfied! They've seemed to me like a
lot of children crying in the dark — not knowing what's
the matter with them, or who's to blame, or where to turn
for help.”
Hal found himself losing his distrust of this man. He
did not correspond in any way to Hal's imaginary picture
of a union organiser; he was a blue-eyed, clean-looking
young American, and instead of being wild and loud-
mouthed, he seemed rather wistful. He had indignation,
of course, but it did not take the form of ranting or flórid
eloquence; and this repression was making its appeal to
Hal, who, in spite of his democratic impulses, had the
habits of thought of a class which shrinks from noisiness
and over-emphasis.
Also Hal was interested in his attitude towards the
weaknesses of working-people. The “inertia” of the
poor, which caused so many people to despair for them —
their cowardice and instability — these were things about
which Hal had heard all his life. “You can't help them,”
people would say. “They're dirty and lazy, they drink
and shirk, they betray each other. They've always been
like that." The idea would be summed up in a formula:
“You can't change human nature!” Even Mary Burke,
herself one of the working-class, spoke of the workers in
this angry and scornful way. But Olson had faith in
their manhood, and went ahead to awaken and teach them.
To his mind the path was clear and straight. “They
must be taught the lesson of solidarity. As individuals,
they're helpless in the power of the great corporations;
but if they stand together, if they sell their labour as a
unit — then they really count for something." He paused,
and looked at the other inquiringly. “How do you feel
about unions ?"
Hal. answered, “They're one of the things I want to
find out about. You hear this and that -- there's so much
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL 85
prejudice on each side. I want to help the under dog,
but I want to be sure of the right way.”
“What other way is there?” And Olson paused.
“ To appeal to the tender hearts of the owners ?”
"Not exactly; but mightn't one appeal to the world
in general — to public opinion? I was brought up an
American, and learned to believe in my country. I can't
think but there's some way to get justice. Maybe if the
men were to go into politics -
“Politics ?” cried Olson. “My God! How long have
you been in this place ?”
“Only a couple of months.”
“Well, stay till November, and see what they do with
the ballot-boxes in these camps !”
“I can imagine, of course "
“No, you can't. Any more than you could imagine
the graft and the misery!”
“But if the men should take to voting together -"
“How can they take to voting together — when any one
who mentions the idea goes down the canyon? Why, you
can't even get naturalisation papers, unless you're a com-
pany man; they won't register you, unless the boss gives
you an 0. K. How are you going to make a start, unless
you have a union?”
It sounded reasonable, Hal had to admit; but he thought
of the stories he had heard about "walking delegates," all
the dreadful consequences of “union domination." He
had not meant to go in for unionism!
Olson was continuing. “We've had laws passed, a
whole raft of laws about coal-mining — the eight-hour
law, the anti-scrip law, the company-store law, the mine-
sprinkling law, the check-weighman law. What differ-
ence has it made in North Valley that there are such laws
on the statute-books? Would you ever even know about
them?"
“Ah, now!” said Hal. “If you put it that way -
union?" be. Hal had a walkir
ne-
on the statuteine in North Valley han law. What
86
KING COAL
if your movement is to have the law enforced — I'm with
you!"
“But how will you get the law enforced, except by a
union? No individual man can do it - it's down the
canyon' with him if he mentions the law. In Western
City our union people go to the state officials, but they
never do anything — and why? They know we haven't
got the men behind us! It's the same with the politicians
as it is with the bosses -- the union is the thing that
counts!"
Hal found this an entirely new argument. “People
don't realise that idea -- that men have to be organised to
get their legal rights."
And the other threw up his hands with a comical ges-
ture. “My God! If you want to make a list of the
things that people don't realise about us miners ! ”
§ 29. Olson was eager to win Hal, and went on to tell
all the secrets of his work. He sought men who believed
in unions, and were willing to take the risk of trying to
convert others. In each place he visited he would get a
group together, and would arrange some way to communi-
cate with them after he left, smuggling in propaganda
literature for distribution. So there would be the nucleus
of an organisation. In a year or two they would have
such a nucleus in every camp, and then they would be
ready to come into the open, calling meetings in the towns,
and in places in the canyons to which the miners would
flock. So the flame of revolt would leap up; men would
join the movement faster than the companies could get
rid of them, and they would make a demand for their
rights, backed with the threat of a strike throughout the
entire district.
“ You understand," added Olson, “we have a legal right
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
87
to organise — even though the bosses disapprove. You
need not stand back on that score.”
“Yes," said Hal; “ but it occurs to me that as a matter
of tactics, it would be better here in North Valley if you
chose some issue there's less controversy about; if, for
instance, you'd concentrate on getting a check-weighman.”
The other smiled. “We'd have to have a union to back
the demand; so what's the difference?”.
“Well," argued Hal, “ there are prejudices to be reck-
oned with. Some people don't like the idea of a union —
they think it means tyranny and violence -”.
The organiser laughed. “You aren't convinced but
that it does yourself, are you! Well, all I can tell you is,
if you want to tackle the job of getting a check-weighman
in North Valley, I'll not stand in your way!”.
Here was an idea — a real idea! Life had grown dull
for Hal since he had become a buddy, working in a place
five feet high. This would promise livelier times !
But was it a thing he wanted to do? So far he had
been an observer of conditions in this coal-camp. He had
convinced himself that conditions were cruel, and he
had pretty well convinced himself that the cruelty was
needless and deliberate. But when it came to a question
of an action to be taken - then be hesitated, and old
prejudices and fears made themselves heard. He had been
told that labour was “ turbulent” and “lazy," that it had
to be "ruled with a strong hand”; now, was he willing
to weaken the strong hand, to ally himself with those who
“fomented labour troubles ” ?
But this would not be the same thing, he told himself.
This suggestion of Olson's was different from trade union-
ism, which might be a demoralising force, leading the
workers from one demand to another, until they were
seeking to “dominate industry.” This would be merely
an appeal to the law, a test of that honesty and fair dealing
to which the company everywhere laid claim. If, as the
I was differng force, 1 they were
88
KING COAL
It would be bosses in retuready to me
bosses proclaimed, the workers were fully protected by the
check-weighman law; if, as all the world was made to be-
lieve, the reason there was no check-weighman was simply
because the men did not ask for one -- why, then there
would be no harm done. If on the other hand a demand
for a right that was not merely a legal right, but a moral
right as well — if that were taken by the bosses as an act
of rebellion against the company — well, Hal would un-
derstand a little more about the “ turbulence” of labour!
If, as Old Mike and Johannson and the rest maintained,
the bosses would “make your life one damn misery” till
you left — then he would be ready to make a few damn
miseries for the bosses in return!
“It would be an adventure," said Hal, suddenly.
And the other laughed. “It would that!”
“You're thinking I'll have another Pine Creek experi-
ence," Hal added. “Well, maybe so — but I have to try
things out for myself. You see, I've got a brother at
home, and when I think about going in for revolution, I
have imaginary arguments with him. I want to be able
to say 'I didn't swallow anybody's theories; I tried it for
myself, and this is what happened.?”.
** Well," replied the organiser, " that's all right. But
while you're seeking education for yourself and your
brother, don't forget that I've already got my education.
I know what happens to men who ask for a check-weigh-
man, and I can't afford to sàcrifice myself proving it
again."
“I never asked you to," laughed Hal. “If I won't
join your movement, I can't expect you to join mine!
But if I can find a few men who are willing to take the
risk of making a demand for a check-weighman — that
won't hurt your work, will it?”
“Sure not!” said the other. “ Just the opposite -
it'll give me an object lesson to point to. There are men
here who don't even know they've a legal right to a check-
THE DOMAIN OF KING COAL
89
weighman. There are others who know they don't get
their weights, but aren't sure its the company that's cheat-
ing them. If the bosses should refuse to let any one in-
spect the weights, if they should go further and fire the
men who ask it — well, there'll be plenty of recruits for
my union local!”
“All right,” said Hal. “I'm not setting out to re-
cruit your union local, but if the company wants to recruit
it, that's the company's affair!" And on this bargain the
two shook hands.
BOOK TWO
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
§ 1. Hal was now started upon a new career, more
full of excitements than that of stableman or buddy, with
perils greater than those of falling rock or the hind feet
of mules in the stomach. The inertia which overwork
produces had not had time to become a disease with him;
youth was on his side, with its zest for more and yet more
experience. He found it thrilling to be a conspirator, to
carry about with him secrets as dark and mysterious as the
passages of the mine in which he worked.
But Jerry Minetti, the first person he told of Tom
Olson's purpose in North Valley, was older in such thrills.
The care-free look which Jerry was accustomed to wear
vanished abruptly, and fear came into his eyes. “I know
it come some day," he exclaimed "trouble for me and
Rosa!”
“How do you mean?"
“We get into it — get in sure. I say Rosa, 'Call your-
self Socialist -- what good that do? No help any. No
use to vote here - they don't count no Socialist vote, only
for joke!' I say, 'Got to have union. Got to strike!'
But Rosa say, "Wait little bit. Save little bit money,
let children grow up. Then we help, no care if we no
got any home.”
“But we're not going to start a union now!” objected
Hal. “I have another plan for the present."
Jerry, however, was not to be put at ease. “No can
wait!” he declared. “Men no stand it! I say, 'It come
some day quick — like blow-up in mine! Somebody start
fight, everybody fight.'” And Jerry looked at Rosa, who
sat with her black eyes fixed anxiously upon her husband.
“We get into it," he said; and Hal saw their eyes turn
to the room where Little Jerry and the baby were sleeping,
93
94
KING COAL
Hal said nothing — he was beginning to understand
the meaning of rebellion to such people. He watched
with curiosity and pity the struggle that went on; a strug-
gle as old as the soul of man— between the voice of self-
interest, of comfort and prudence, and the call of duty, of
the ideal. No trumpet sounded for this conflict, only the
still small voice within.
After a while Jerry asked what it was Hal and Olson
had planned; and Hal explained that he wanted to make
a test of the company's attitude toward the check-weigh-
man law. Hal thought it a fine scheme; what did Jerry
think?
Jerry smiled sadly. “Yes, fine scheme for young fel-
ler — no got family!”
“ That's all right,” said Hal, “I'll take the job - I'll
be the check-weighman.
“Got to have committee,” said Jerry _" committee go
see boss."
“ All right, but we'll get young fellows for that too-
men who have no families. Some of the fellows who live
in the chicken-coops in shanty-town. They won't care
what happens to them."
But Jerry would not share Hal's smile. “No got sense
'nough, them fellers. Take sense to stick together." He
explained that they would need a group of men to stand
back of the committee; such a group would have to be
organised, to hold meetings in secret - it would be prac-
tically the same thing as a union, would be so regarded by
the bosses and their spotters. And no organisation of any
sort was permitted in the camps. There had been some
Serbians who had wanted to belong to a fraternal order
back in their home country, but even that had been for-
bidden. If you wanted to insure your life or your health,
the company would attend to it - and get the profit from
it. For that matter, you could not even buy a post-office
money-order, to send funds back to the old country; the
THE SERFS OF KING COAL:
95
post-office clerk, who was at the same time a clerk in the
company-store, would sell you some sort of a store-draft.
So Hal was facing the very difficulties about which Olson
had warned him. The first of them was Jerry's fear.
Yet Hal knew that Jerry was no “coward”; if any man
had a contempt for Jerry's attitude, it was because he
had never been in Jerry's place!
“All I'll ask of you now is advice," said Hal. “Give
me the names of some young fellows who are trustworthy,
and I'll get their help without anybody suspecting you."
“You my boarder!” was Jerry's reply to this.
So again Hal was “up against it.” “You mean that
would get you into trouble?”
“ Sure! They know we talk. They know I talk So-
cialism, anyhow. They fire me sure!"
“But how about your cousin, the pit-boss in Number
One?”
“He no help. May be get fired himself. Say damn
fool - board check-weighman!”
“ All right," said Hal. “Then I'll move away now,
before it's too late. You can say I was a trouble-maker,
and you turned me off.”
The Minettis sat gazing at each other -- a mournful
pair. They hated to lose their boarder, who was such
good company, and paid them such good money. As for
Hal, he felt nearly as bad, for he liked Jerry and his girl-
wife, and Little Jerry - even the black-eyed baby, who
made so much noise and interrupted conversation!
“No!” said Jerry. “I no run away! I do my
share!”
“ That's all right,” replied Hal. “You do your share
- but not just yet. You stay on in the camp and help
Olson after I'm fired. We don't want the best men put
out at once.”
So, after further argument, it was decided, and Hal
saw little Rosa sink back in her chair and draw a deep
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breath of relief. The time for martyrdom was put off ;
her little three-roomed cabin, her furniture and her shin-
ing pans and her pretty white lace curtains, might be
hers for a few weeks longer!
§ 2. Hal went back to Reminitsky's boarding-house;
a heavy sacrifice, but not without its compensations, be-
cause it gave him more chance to talk with the men.
He and Jerry made up a list of those who could be
trusted with the secret: the list beginning with the name
of Mike Sikoria. To be put on a committee, and sent
to interview a boss, would appeal to Old Mike as the pur-
pose for which he had been put upon earth! But they
would not tell him about it until the last minute, for fear
lest in his excitement he might shout out the announcement
the next time he lost one of his cars.
There was a young Bulgarian miner named Wresmak
who worked near Hal. The road into this man's room ran
up an incline, and he had hardly been able to push his
“empties” up the grade. While he was sweating and
straining at the task, Alec Stone had come along, and
having a giant's contempt for physical weakness, began
to cuff him. The man raised his arm — whether in of-
fence or to ward off the blow, no one could be sure; but
Stone fell upon him and kicked him all the way down the
passage, pouring out upon him furious curses. Now the
man was in another room, where he had taken out over
forty car-loads of rock, and been allowed only three dol-
lars for it. No one who watched his face when the pit-
boss passed would doubt that this man would be ready to
take his chances in a movement of protest.
Then there was a man whom Jerry knew, who had just
come out of the hospital, after contact with the butt-end
of the camp-marshal's revolver. This was a Pole, who
unfortunately did not know a word of English; but Olson,
havining at the to grade. Whil been able to
THE SERFS OF KING COAL 97
the organiser, had got into touch with another Pole, who
spoke a little English, and would pass the word on to his
fellow-countryman. Also there was a young Italian, Ro-
vetta, whom Jerry knew and whose loyalty he could vouch
for.
There was another person Hal thought of — Mary
Burke. He had been deliberately avoiding her of late;
it seemed the one safe thing to do — although it seemed
also a cruel thing, and left his mind ill at ease. He went
over and over what had happened. How had the trouble
got started ? It is a man's duty in such cases to take the
blame upon himself; but a man does not like to take blame
upon himself, and he tries to make it as light as possible.
Should Hal say that it was because he had been too offi-
cious that night in helping Mary where the path was
rough? She had not actually needed such help, she was
quite as capable on her feet as he! But he had really
gone farther than that — he had had a definite senti-
mental impulse; and he had been a cad — he should have
known all along that all this girl's discontent, all the long-
ing of her starved soul, would become centred upon him,
who was so “ different," who had had opportunity, who
made her think of the “poetry-books"!
But here suddenly seemed a solution of the difficulty;
here was a new interest for Mary, a safe channel in which
her emotions could run. A woman could not serve on a
miners' committee, but she would be a good adviser, and
her sharp tongue would be a weapon to drive others into
line. Being aflame with this enterprise, Hal became im-
personal, man-fashion- and so fell into another senti-
mental trap! He did not stop to think that Mary's inter-
est in the check-weighman movement might be condi-
tioned in part by a desire to see more of him; still less
did it occur to him that he might be glad for a pretext to
see Mary.
No, he was picturing her in a new rôle, an activity more
pre feet's neede, where e been possible.
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KING COAL
inspiriting than cooking and nursing. His “poetry-
book” imagination took fire; he gave her a hope and a
purpose, a pathway with a goal at the end. Had there
not been women leaders in every great proletarian move-
He went to call on her, and met her at the door of her
cabin. “'Tis a cheerin' sight to see ye, Joe Smith!”
she said. And she looked him in the eye and smiled.
“ The same to you, Mary Burke!” he answered.
She was game, he saw; she was going to be a “good
sport.” But he noticed that she was paler than when he
had seen her last. Could it be that these gorgeous Irish
complexions ever faded ? He thought that she was thin-
ner too; the old blue calico seemed less tight upon her.
Hal plunged into his theme. “Mary, I had a vision
of you to-day!”
“Of me, lad? What's that?"
He laughed. “I saw you with a glory in your face, and
your hair shining like a crown of gold. You were
mounted on a snow-white horse, and wore a robe of white,
soft and lustrous — like Joan of Arc, or a leader in a
suffrage parade. You were riding at the head of a host -
I've still got the music in my ears, Mary!”
“ Go on with ye, lad - what's all this about?”
“Come in and I'll tell you,” he said.
So they went into the bare kitchen, and sat in bare
wooden chairs - Mary folding her hands in her lap like
a child who has been promised a fairy-story. "Now
hurry,” said she. "I want to know about this new dress
ye're givin' me. Are ye tired of me old calico ?”
He joined in her smile. “This is a dress you will
weave for yourself, Mary, out of the finest threads of your
own nature - out of courage and devotion and self-sacri-
fice."
“Sure, 'tis the poetry-book again! But what is it ye're
really meanin'?"
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
99
He looked about him. “Is anybody here?"
“ Nobody."
But instinctively he lowered his voice as he told his
story. There was an organiser of the “big union” in the
camp, and he was going to rouse the slaves to protest.
The laughter went out of Mary's face. “Oh! It's
that!” she said, in a flat tone. The vision of the snow-
white horse and the soft and lustrous robe was gone. “Ye
can never do anything of that sort here!”
“Why not?”
6'Tis the men in this place. Don't ye remember what
I told ye at Mr. Rafferty's? They're cowards !”
“Ah, Mary, it's easy to say that. But it's not so pleas-
ant being turned out of your home "
“Do ye have to tell me that?” she cried, with sudden
passion. “Haven't I seen that?”.
“Yes, Mary; but I want to do something --"
“Yes, and haven't I wanted to do something? Sure,
I've wanted to bite off the noses of the bosses ! ”
“Well," he laughed, “We'll make that a part of our
programme.” But Mary was not to be lured into cheer-
fulness; her mood was so full of pain and bewilderment
that he had an impulse to reach out and take her hand
again. But he checked that; he had come to divert her
energies into a safe channel!
“We must waken these men to resistance, Mary!"
“Ye can't do it, Joe — not the English-speakin' men.
The Greeks and the Bulgars, maybe — they're fightin' at
home, and they might fight here. But the Irish never —
never! Them that had any backbone went out long ago.
Them that stayed has been made into boot-licks. I know
them, every man of them. They grumble, and curse the
boss, but then they think of the blacklist, and they go back
and cringe at his feet.”
“What such men want -"
~ ?Tis booze they want, and carousin' with the rotten
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KING COAL
women in the coal-towns, and sittin' up all night winnin'
each other's money with a greasy pack of cards! They
take their pleasure where they find it, and 'tis nothin'
better they want.”
“Then, Mary, if that's so, don't you see it's all the more
reason for trying to teach them? If not for their own
sakes, for the sake of their children! The children
mustn't grow up like that! They are learning English,
at least "
Mary gave a scornful laugh. “Have ye been up to
that school?”
He answered no; and she told him there were a hundred
and twenty children packed in one room, three in a seat,
and solid all round the wall. She went on, with swift
anger — the school was supposed to be paid for out of
taxes, but as nobody owned any property but the com-
pany, it was all in the company's hands. The school-
board consisted of Mr. Cartwright, the mine-superin-
tendent, and Jake Predovich, a clerk in the store, and the
preacher, the Reverend Spraggs. Old Spraggs would
bump his nose on the floor if the "super" told him to.
“Now, now!” said Hal, laughing. “You're down on
him because his grandfather was an Orangeman!”
$ 3. Mary Burke had been suckled upon despair, and
the poison of it was deep in her blood. Hal began to re-
alise that it would be as hard to give her a hope as to
rouse the workers whom she despised. She was brave
enough, no doubt, but how could he persuade her to be
brave for men who had no courage for themselves ?
“Mary," he said, “in your heart you don't really hate
these people. You know how they suffer, you pity them
for it. You give their children your last cent when they
need it "
“Ah, lad!” she cried, and he saw tears suddenly spring
into her eyes. “'Tis because I love them so that I hate
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
101
them! Sometimes 'tis the bosses I would murder, some-
times 'tis the men. What is it ye’re wantin' me to do?”
And then, even before he could answer, she began to
run over the list of her acquaintances in the camp. Yes,
there was one man Hal ought to talk to; he would be too
old to join them, but his advice would be invaluable, and
they could be sure he would never betray them. That
was old John Edstrom, a Swede from Minnesota, who
had worked in this district from the time the mines had
first started up. He had been active in the great strike
eight years ago, and had been black-listed, his four sons
with him. The sons were scattered now to the four parts
of the world, but the father had stayed nearby, working as
a ranch-hand and railroad labourer, until a couple of years
ago, during a rush season, he had got a chance to come
back into the mines.
He was old, old, declared Mary -- must be sixty. And
when Hal remarked that that did not sound so frightfully
aged, she answered that one seldom heard of a man being
able to work in a coal-mine at that age; in fact, there were
not many who managed to live to that age. Edstrom's
wife was dying now, and he was having a hard time.
“'Twould not be fair to let such an old gentleman lose
his job," said Mary. “But at least he could give ye
good advice.”
So that evening the two of them went to call on John
Edstrom, in a tiny unpainted cabin in “shanty-town,"
with a bare earth floor, and a half partition of rough
boards to hide his dying wife from his callers. The
woman's trouble was cancer, and this made calling a try-
ing matter, for there was a fearful odour in the place.
For some time it was impossible for Hal to force himself
to think about anything else; but finally he overcame this
weakness, telling himself that this was a war, and that
a man must be ready for the hospital as well as for the
paradeground.
i
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He looked about, and saw that the cracks of Edstrom's
cabin were stopped with rags, and the broken window-
panes mended with brown paper. The old man had evi-
dently made an effort to keep the place neat, and Hal no-
ticed a row of books on a shelf. Because it was cold in
these mountain regions at night, even in September, the
old man had a fire in the little cast-iron stove, and sat
huddled by it. There were only a few hairs left on his
head, and his scrubby beard was as white as anything
could be in a coal-camp. The first impression of his face
was of its pallor, and then of the benevolence in the faded
dark eyes; also his voice was gentle, like a caress. He
rose to greet his visitors, and put out to Hal a trembling
hand, which resembled the paw of some animal, horny and
misshapen. He made a move to draw up a bench, and
apologised for his unskillful house-keeping. It occurred
to Hal that a man might be able to work in a coal-mine
at sixty, and not be able to work in it at sixty-one.
Hal had requested Mary to say nothing about his pur-
pose, until after he had a chance to judge for himself.
So now the girl inquired about Mrs. Edstrom. There was
no news, the man answered; she was lying in a stupor, as
usual. Dr. Barrett had come again, but all he could do
was to give her morphine. No one could do any more,
the doctor declared.
« Sure, he'd not know it if they could !” sniffed Mary.
“He's not such a bad one, when he's sober," said Ed-
strom, patiently.
“ And how often is that?” sniffed Mary again. She
added, by way of explanation to Hal, “ He's a cousin of
the super.”
Things were better here than in some places, said Ed-
strom. At Harvey's Run, where he had worked, a man
had got his eye hurt, and had lost it through the doctor's
instrument slipping; broken arms and legs had been set
wrong, and either the men had to go through life as crip-
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
103
ples, or go elsewhere and have the bones re-broken and reset.
It was like everything else — the doctor was a part of the
company machine, and if you had too much to say about
him, it was down the canyon with you. You not only had
a dollar a month taken out of your pay, but if you were
injured, and he came to attend you, he would charge what-
ever extra he pleased.
“And you have to pay?" asked Hal.
“They take it off your account,” said the old man.
“ Sometimes they take it when he's done nothin' at
all," added Mary. “They charged Mrs. Zamboni twenty-
five dollars for her last baby — and Dr. Barrett never set
foot across her door till three hours after the baby was
in my arms!”
§ 4. The talk went on. Wishing to draw the old man
out, Hal spoke of various troubles of the miners, and at
last he suggested that the remedy might be found in a
union. Edstrom's dark eyes studied him, and then turned
to Mary. “ Joe's all right,” said the girl, quickly. “You
can trust him.”
Edstrom made no direct answer to this, but remarked
that he had once been in a strike. He was a marked man,
now, and could only stay in the camp so long as he at-
tended strictly to his own affairs. The part he had played
in the big strike had never been forgotten; the bosses had
let him work again, partly because they had needed him
at a rush time, and partly because the pit-boss happened
to be a personal friend.
“Tell him about the big strike," said Mary. “He's
new in this district.”
The old man had apparently accepted Mary's word for
Hal's good faith, for he began to narrate those terrible
events which were a whispered tradition of the camps.
There had been a mighty effort of ten thousand slaves for
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freedom; and it had been crushed with utter ruthlessness.
Ever since these mines had been started, the operators had
controlled the local powers of government, and now, in the
emergency, they had brought in the state militia as well,
and used it frankly to drive the strikers back to work.
They had seized the leaders and active men, and thrown
them into jail without trial or charges; when the jails
would hold no more, they kept some two hundred in an
open stockade, called a “bull-pen," and finally they loaded
them into freight-cars, took them at night out of the state,
and dumped them off in the midst of the desert without
food or water.
John Edstrom had been one of these men. He told
how one of his sons had been beaten and severely injured
in jail, and how another had been kept for weeks in a
damp cellar, so that he had come out crippled with rheuma-
tism for life. The officers of the state militia had done
these things; and when some of the local authorities were
moved to protest, the militia had arrested them — even the
judges of the civil courts had been forbidden to sit, under
threat of imprisonment. “To hell with the constitution ! "
had been the word of the general in command; his subor-
dinate had made famous the saying, “No habeas corpus;
we'll give them post-mortems ! ”
Tom Olson had impressed Hal with his self-control,
but this old man made an even deeper impression upon
him. As he listened, he became humble, touched with
awe. Incredible as it might seem, when John Edstrom
talked about his cruel experiences, it was without bitter-
ness in his voice, and apparently without any in his heart.
Here, in the midst of want and desolation, with his fam-
ily broken and scattered, and the wolf of starvation at his
door, he could look back upon the past without hatred of
those who had ruined him. Nor was this because he was
old and feeble, and had lost the spirit of revolt; it was
because he had studied economics, and convinced himself
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
105
that it was an evil system which blinded men's eyes and
poisoned their souls. A better day was coming, he said,
when this evil system would be changed, and it would be
possible for men to be merciful to one another.
At this point in the conversation, Mary Burke gave
voice once more to her corroding despair. How could
things ever be changed? The bosses were mean-hearted,
and the men were cowards and traitors. That left nobody
but God to do the changing — and God had left things as
they were for such a long time!
Hal was interested to hear how Edstrom dealt with this
attitude. “Mary," he said, “ did you ever read about
ants in Africa?”
“No," said she.
“ They travel in long columns, millions and millions of
them. And when they come to a ditch, the front ones fall
in, and more and more of them on top, till they fill up
the ditch, and the rest cross over. We are ants, Mary.”
“No matter how many go in," cried the girl, “none
will ever get across. There's no bottom to the ditch ! "
He answered: “ That's more than any ant can know,
Mary. All they know is to go in. They cling to each
other's bodies, even in death; they make a bridge, and
the rest go over.”
“I'll step one side!” she declared, fiercely. “I'll not
throw meself away."
“You may step one side," answered the other _“but
you'll step back into line again. I know you better than
you know yourself, Mary."
There was silence in the little cabin. The winds of an
early fall shrilled outside, and life suddenly seemed to
Hal a stern and merciless thing. He had thought in his
youthful fervour it would be thrilling to be a revolution-
ist; but to be an ant, one of millions and millions, to perish
in a bottomless ditch ---- that was something a man could
hardly bring himself to face! He looked at the bowed fig-
ist; but to arvour it wouls thing. He hadenly seemed in
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KING COAL
ure of this white haired toiler, vague in the feeble lamp
light, and found himself thinking of Rembrandt's paint-
ing, the Visit of Emmaus: the ill-lighted room in the dirty
tavern, and the two ragged men, struck dumb by the glow
of light about the forehead of their table-companion. It
was not fantastic to imagine a glow of light about the fore
head of this soft-voiced old man!
"I never had any hope it would come in my time," the
old man was saying gently. “I did use to hope my boys
might see it -- but now I'm not sure even of that. But
in all my life I never doubted that some day the working-
people will cross over to the promised land. They'll no
longer be slaves, and what they make won't be wasted by
idlers. And take it from one who knows, Mary - for a
workingman or woman not to have that faith, is to have
lost the reason for living."
Hal decided that it would be safe to trust this man, and
told him of his check-weighman plan. “We only want
your advice,” he explained, remembering Mary's warn-
ing. “Your sick wife -"
But the old man answered, sadly, “She's almost gone,
and I'll soon be following. What little strength I have
left might as well be used for the cause."
$ð. This business of conspiracy was grimly real to
men whose living came out of coal; but Hal, even at the
most serious moments, continued to find in it the thrill
of romance. He had read stories of revolutionists, and
of the police who hunted them. That such excitements
were to be had in Russia, he knew; but if any one had told
him they could be had in his own free America, within
a few hours' journey of his home city and his college-town,
he could not have credited the statement.
The evening after his visit to Edstrom, Hal was stopped
on the street by his boss. Encountering him suddenly,
THE SERFS OF KING COAL 107
Hal started, like a pick-pocket who runs into a policeman.
“Hello, kid," said the pit-boss.
“Hello, Mr. Stone,” was the reply.
"I want to talk to you,” said the boss.
“ All right, sir.” And then, under his breath, “He's
got me!”
“Come up to my house,” said Stone; and Hal followed,
feeling as if hand-cuffs were already on his wrists.
“Say,” said the man, as they walked, “I thought you
were going to tell me if you'd heard any talk.”
“I haven't heard any, sir."
“Well," continued Stone, "you want to get busy;
there's sure to be kickers in every coal-camp." And deep
within, Hal drew a sigh of relief. It was a false alarm!
They came to the boss's house, and he took a chair on
the piazza and motioned Hal to take another. They sat
in semi-darkness, and Stone dropped his voice as he be-
gan. “What I want to talk to you about now is some-
thing else - this election."
“ Election, sir?"
“Didn't you know there was one? The Congressman
in this district died, and there's a special election three
weeks from next Tuesday.”
“I see, sir." And Hal chuckled inwardly. He would
get the information which Tom Olson had recommended
to him!
“You ain't heard any talk about it?” inquired the pit
boss.
“Nothing at all, sir. I never pay much attention to
politics - it ain't in my line."
“Well, that's the way I like to hear a miner talk!” said
the pit-boss, with heartiness. “If they all had sense
enough to leave politics to the politicians, they'd be a sight
better off. What they need is to tend to their own jobs."
“Yes, sir," agreed Hal, meekly —"like I had to tend
to them mules, if I didn't want to get the colic."
O
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The boss smiled appreciatively. “You've got more
sense than most of 'em. If you'll stand by me, there'll
be a chance for you to move up in the world.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stone," said Hal. “Give me a
chance.”
“Well now, here's this election. Every year they send
us a bunch of campaign money to handle. A bit of it
might come your way.”
“I could use it, I reckon," said Hal, brightening vis-
ibly. “What is it you want?”
There was a pause, while Stone puffed on his pipe. He
went on, in a business-like manner. “What I want is
somebody to feel things out a bit, and let me know the
situation. I thought it better not to use the men that
generally work for me, but somebody that wouldn't be
suspected. Down in Sheridan and Pedro they say, the
Democrats are making a big stir, and the company's wor-
ried. I suppose you know the 'G. F. C.' is Republi-
can."
“I've heard so.”
“You might think a congressman don't have much to
do with us, way off in Washington; but it has a bad effect
to have him campaigning, telling the men the company's
abusing them. So I'd like you just to kind o circulate
a bit, and start the men on politics, and see if any of them
have been listening to this MacDougall talk. (Mac-
Dougall's this here Democrat, you know.) And I want
to find out whether they've been sending in literature to
this camp, or have any agents here. You see, they claim
the right to come in and make speeches, and all that sort
of thing. North Valley's an incorporated town, so they've
got the law on their side, in a way, and if we shut 'em out,
they make a howl in the papers, and it looks bad. So we
have to get ahead of them in quiet ways. Fortunately
there ain't any hall in the camp for them to meet in, and
we've made a local ordinance against meetings on the
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
109
street. If they try to bring in circulars, something has
to happen to them before they get distributed. See ?"
“I see,” said Hal; he thought of Tom Olson's propa-
ganda literature!
“We'll pass the word out, it's the Republican the
company wants elected; and you be on the lookout and see
how they take it in the camp."
“That sounds easy enough,” said Hal. “But tell me,
Mr. Stone, why do you bother? Do so many of these
wops have votes ? "
It ain't the wops so much. We get them naturalised
on purpose — they vote our way for a glass of beer. But
the English-speaking men, or the foreigners that's been
here too long, and got too big for their breeches — they're
the ones we got to watch. If they get to talking politics,
they don't stop there; the first thing you know, they're
listening to union agitators, and wanting to run the camp."
“Oh yes, I see!” said Hal, and wondered if his voice
sounded right.
But the pit-boss was concerned with his own troubles.
“As I told Si Adams the other day, what I'm looking for
is fellows that talk some new lingo — one that nobody will
ever understand! But I suppose that would be too easy.
There's no way to keep them from learning some Eng-
lish!"
Hal decided to make use of this opportunity to perfect
his education. “Surely, Mr. Stone,” he remarked, “ you
don't have to count any votes if you don't want to!”
“Well, I'll tell you," replied Stone; "it's a question
of the easiest way to manage things. When I was super-
intendent over to Happy Gulch, we didn't waste no time
on politics. The company was Democratic at that time,
and when election night come, we wrote down four hun-
dred votes for the Democratic candidates. But the first
thing we knew, a bunch of fellers was taken into town and
got to swear they'd voted the Republican ticket in our
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KING COAL
camp. The Republican papers were full of it, and some
fool judge ordered a recount, and we had to get busy over
night and mark up a new lot of ballots. It gave us a lot
of bother!”
The pit-boss laughed, and Hal joined him discreetly.
“So you see, you have to learn to manage. If there's
votes for the wrong candidate in your camp, the fact gets
out, and if the returns is too one-sided, there's a lot of
grumbling. There's plenty of bosses that don't care, but
I learned my lesson that time, and I got my own method
-- that is not to let any opposition start. See?"
“Yes, I see.”
“Maybe a mine-boss has got no right to meddle in
politics — but there's one thing he's got the say about,
and that is who works in his mine. It's the easiest thing
to weed out — weed out —” Hal never forgot the motion
of beefy hands with which Alec Stone illustrated these
words. As he went on, the tones of his voice did not seem
so good-natured as usual. “The fellows that don't want
to vote my way can go somewhere else to do their voting.
That's all I got to say on politics!”
There was a brief pause, while Stone puffed on his pipe.
Then it may have occurred to him that it was not neces-
sary to go into so much detail in breaking in a political
recruit. When he resumed, it was in a good-natured
tone of dismissal. « That's what you do, kid. To-mor-
row you get a sprained wrist, so you can't work for a few
days, and that'll give you a chance to bum round and hear
what the men are saying. Meantime, I'll see you get your
wages.
" That sounds all right,” said Hal; but showing only
a small part of his satisfaction!
The pit-boss rose from his chair and knocked the ashes
from his pipe. “Mind you - I want the goods. I've
got other fellows working, and I'm comparing 'em. For
all you know, I may have somebody watching you.”
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
111
“Yes,” said Hal, and grinned cheerfully. “I'll not
fail to bear that in mind.”
$ 6. The first thing Hal did was to seek out Tom
Olson and narrate this experience. The two of them had
a merry time over it. “I'm the favourite of a boss now!"
laughed Hal.
But the organiser became suddenly serious. “Be care-
ful what you do for that fellow."
“ Why?"
“He might use it on you later on. One of the things
they try to do if you make any trouble for them, is to
prove that you took money from them, or tried to.”
“But he won't have any proofs."
“ That's my point -- don't give him any. If Stone
says you've been playing the political game for him, then
some fellow might remember that you did ask him about
politics. So don't have any marked money on you.”
Hal laughed. “Money doesn't stay on me very long
these days. But what shall I say if he asks me for a re
surove that you on't have don't given I game I
pecs But be my pointing the politi you did
says you've my point'e any proofsem, or tri
port?"
“You'd better put your job right through, Joe — so that
he won't have time to ask for any report."
“ All right,” was the reply. “Būt just the same, I'm
going to get all the fun there is, being the favourite of a
boss!”
And so, early the next morning when Hal went to his
work he proceeded to “sprain his wrist.” He walked
about in pain, to the great concern of Old Mike; and when
finally he decided that he would have to lay off, Mike fol-
lowed him half way to the shaft, giving him advice about
hot and cold cloths. Leaving the old Slovak to struggle
along as best he could alone, Hal went out to bask in the
wonderful sunshine of the upper world, and tbe still more
wonderful sunshine of a boss's favour.
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KING COAL
First he went to his room at Reminitsky's, and tied a
strip of old shirt about his wrist, and a clean handkerchief
on top of that; by this symbol he was entitled to the free-
dom of the camp and the sympathy of all men, and so he
sallied forth.
Strolling towards the tipple of Number One, he encoun-
tered a wiry, quick-moving little man, with restless black
eyes and a lean, intelligent face. He wore a pair of com-
mon miner's “jumpers," but even so, he was not to be
taken for a workingman. Everything about him spoke
of authority.
“Morning, Mr. Cartwright,” said Hal.
“Good morning," replied the superintendent; then, with
a glance at Hal's bandage, “ You hurt?”
“Yes, sir. Just a bit of sprain, but I thought I'd bet-
ter lay off.”
“Been to the doctor?”.
“No, sir. I don't think it's that bad.”
“You'd better go. You never know how bad a sprain
is.”
“Right, sir,” said Hal. Then, as the superintendent
was passing, “Do you think, Mr. Cartwright, that Mac-
Dougall stands any chance of being elected ?”
“I don't know, replied the other, surprised. “I hope
not. You aren't going to vote for him, are you?"
"Oh, no. I'm a Republican -- born that way. But I
wondered if you'd heard any MacDougall talk.”
“Well, I'm hardly the one that would hear it. You
take an interest in politics ?”
“Yes, sir - in a way. In fact, that's how I came to
get this wrist.”
“How's that? In a fight? »
“No, sir; but you see, Mr. Stone wanted me to feel out
sentiment in the camp, and he told me I'd better sprain my
wrist and lay off.”
The "super," after staring at Hal, could not keep from
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
113
laughing. Then he looked about him. “You want to be
careful, talking about such things.”
“I thought I could surely trust the superintendent,”
said Hal, drily.
The other measured him with his keen eyes; and Hal,
who was getting the spirit of political democracy, took the
liberty of returning the gaze. “You're a wide-awake
young fellow,” said Cartwright, at last. “Learn the ropes
here, and make yourself useful, and I'll see you're not
passed over.”
“ All right, sir - thank you."
“Maybe you'll be made an election-clerk this time.
That's worth three dollars a day, you know."
“Very good, sir.” And Hal put on his smile again.
“ They tell me you're the mayor of North Valley."
“I am."
“And the justice of the peace is a clerk in your store.
Well, Mr. Cartwright, if you need a president of the board
of health or a dog catcher, I'm your man - as soon, that
is, as my wrist gets well.”
And so Hal went on his way. Such " joshing" on the
the superintendent stood looking after him with a puzzled
frown upon his face.
§ 7. Hal did not look back, but turned into the com-
pany-store. “North Valley Trading Company” read the
sign over the door; within was a Serbian woman pointing
out what she wanted to buy, and two little Lithuanian
girls watching the weighing of a pound of sugar. Hal
strolled up to the person who was doing the weighing, a
middle-aged man with a yellow moustache stained with
tobacco-juice. “Morning, Judge."
“Huh!” was the reply from Silas Adams, justice of
the peace in the town of North Valley.
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KING COAL
“Judge,” said Hal, “what do you think about the elec-
tion ? "
"I don't think about it,” said the other. “Busy
weighin' sugar.”
“ Anybody round here going to vote for MacDougall ?”
“ They better not tell me if they are!”.
“What?" smiled Hal. “In this free American re-
public?”
. “In this part of the free American republic a man is
free to dig coal, but not to vote for a skunk like Mac-
Dougall.” Then, having tied up the sugar, the “ J. P.”
whittled off a fresh chew from his plug, and turned to
Hal. “What'll you have ?”
Hal purchased half a pound of dried peaches, so that
he might have an excuse to loiter, and be able to keep time
with the jaws of the Judge. While the order was being
filled, he seated himself upon the counter. “You know,"
said he, “I used to work in a grocery.”
“ That so? Where at?"
“Peterson & Co., in American City." Hal had told
this so often that he had begun to believe it.
“Pay pretty good up there?”
• “Yes, pretty fair.” Then, realising that he had no
idea what would constitute good pay in a grocery, Hal
added, quickly, “ Got a bad wrist here!"
“That so ?"" said the other.
He did not show much sociability; but Hal persisted,
refusing to believe that any one in a country store would
miss an opening to discuss politics, even with a miner's
helper. “Tell me," said he, “just what is the matter
with MacDougall?"
“ The matter with him," said the Judge, “is that the
company's against him.” He looked hard at the young
miner. “You meddlin' in politics ?” he growled. But
the young miner's gay brown eyes showed only appreci-
ation of the earlier response; so the “ J. P.” was tempted
TS
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
115
into specifying the would-be congressman's vices. Thus
conversation started; and pretty soon the others in the
store joined in—"Bob" Johnson, bookkeeper and
post-master, and “Jake” Predovich, the Galician Jew
who was a member of the local school-board, and knew the
words for staple groceries in fifteen languages.
Hal listened to an exposition of the crimes of the politi-
cal opposition in Pedro County. Their candidate, Mac-
Dougall, had come to the state as a “tin-horn gambler,"
yet now he was going around making speeches in churches,
and talking about the moral sentiment of the community.
“And him with a district chairman keeping three families
in Pedro!” declared Si Adams.
“Well," ventured Hal, “if what I hear is true, the
Republican chairman isn't a plaster saint. They say he
was drunk at the convention -
“Maybe so," said the “J. P.” “But we ain't playin'
for the prohibition vote; and we ain't playin' for the
labour vote — tryin' to stir up the riff-raff in these coal-
camps, promisin' 'em high wages an' short hours. Don't
he know he can't get it for 'em? But he figgers he'll go
off to Washington and leave us here to deal with the mess
he's stirred up!"
"Don't you fret," put in Bob Johnson —" he ain't goin'
to no Washin'ton."
The other two agreed, and Hal ventured again, “He
says you stuff the ballot-boxes."
“ What do you suppose his crowd is doin' in the cities?
We got to meet 'em some way, ain't we?”
“Oh, I see," said Hal, naïvely. “You stuff them
worse!"
“Sometimes we stuff the boxes, and sometimes we stuff
the voters." There was an appreciative titter from the
others, and the “J. P.” was moved to reminiscence.
“ Two years ago I was election clerk, over to Sheridan,
and we found we'd let 'em get ahead of us -- they had
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KING COAL
carried the whole state. “By God,' said Alf. Raymond,
we'll show 'em a trick from the coal-counties ! And
there won't be no recount business either!' So we held
back our returns till the rest had come in, and when we
seen how many votes we needed, we wrote 'em down. And
that settled it.”
“ That seems a simple method,” remarked Hal.
“ They'll have to get up early to beat Alf.”
“ You bet you ! ” said Si, with the complacency of one
of the gang. “ They call this county the “ Empire. of
Raymond.' *
“It must be a cinch," said Hal --" being the sheriff,
and having the naming of so many deputies as they need
in these coal-camps !”.
“ Yes," agreed the other. “And there's his wholesale
liquor business, too. If you want a license in Pedro
county, you not only vote for Alf, but you pay your bills
on time!"
"Must be a fortune in that!” remarked Hal; and the
Judge, the Post-master and the School-commissioner ap-
peared like children listening to a story of a feast. “You
bet you!”
“I suppose it takes money to run politics in this county,"
Hal added.
“Well, Alf don't put none of it up, you can bet !
That's the company's job.”
This from the Judge; and the School-commissioner
added, “ De coin in dese camps is beer.”
“Oh, I see!” laughed Hal. “ The companies buy
Alf's beer, and use it to get him votes ! ”
“Sure thing!” said the Post-master.
At this moment he happened to reach into his pocket
for a cigar, and Hal observed a silver shield on the breast
of his waistcoat. “That a deputy's badge?” he in-
quired, and then turned to examine the School-commis-
sioner's costume. “Where's yours?"
THE SERFS OF KING COAL.
117
“I git mine ven election comes,” said Jake, with a grin.
“And yours, Judge?”
“I'm a justice of the peace, young feller," said Silas,
with dignity,
Leaning round, and observing a bulge on the right hip
of the School-commissioner, Hal put out his hand towards
it. Instinctively the other moved his hand to the spot.
Hal turned to the Post-master. “Yours?” he asked.
“ Mine's under the counter," grinned Bob.
“And yours, Judge ?"
“ Mine's in the desk," said the Judge.
Hal drew a breath. “Gee!” said he. “It's like a
steel trap!" He managed to keep the laugh on his face,
but within he was conscious of other feelings than those
of amusement. He was losing that “ first fine careless
rapture” with which he had set out to run with the hare
and the hounds in North Valley!
career, it was arranged that the workers who were to make
a demand for a check-weighman should meet in the home
of Mrs. David. When Mike Sikoria came up from the
pit that day, Hal took him aside and told him of the gath-
ering. A look of delight came upon the old Slovak's face
as he listened; he grabbed his buddy by the shoulders,
crying, “ You mean it?"
“ Sure meant it,” said Hal. “You want to be on the
committee to go and see the boss?”
" Pluha biedna!” cried Mike — which is something
dreadful in his own language. “By Judas, I pack up my
old box again!”
Hal felt a guilty pang. Should he let this old man into
the thing? “You think you'll have to move out of
camp?” he asked.
“Move out of state this time! Move back to old coun-
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KING COAL
try, maybe!” And Hal realised that he could not stop
him now, even if he wanted to. The old fellow was so
much excited that he hardly ate any supper, and his buddy
was afraid to leave him alone, for fear he might blurt out
the news.
It had been agreed that those who attended the meeting
should come one by one, and by different routes. Hal was
one of the first to arrive, and he saw that the shades of
the house had been drawn, and the lamps turned low. He
entered by the back door, where “ Big Jack" David stood
on guard. “Big Jack,” who had been a member of the
South Wales Federation at home, made sure of Hal's
identity, and then passed him in without a word.
Inside was Mike — the first on hand. Mrs. David, a
little black-eyed woman with a never-ceasing tongue, was
bustling about, putting things in order; she was so nervous
that she could not sit still. This couple had come from
their birth-place only a year or so ago, and had brought
all their wedding presents to their new home - pictures
and bric-a-brac and linen. It was the prettiest home Hal
had so far been in, and Mrs. David was risking it delib-
erately, because of her indignation that her husband had
had to foreswear his union in order to get work in America.
The young Italian, Rovetta, came, then old John
Edstrom. There being not chairs enough in the house,
Mrs. David had set some boxes against the wall, covering
them with cloth; and Hal noticed that each person took
one of these boxes, leaving the chairs for the later comers.
Each one as he came in would nod to the others, and then
silence would fall again.
When Mary Burke entered, Hal divined from her aspect
and manner that she had sunk back into her old mood of
pessimism. He felt a momentary resentment. He was
so thrilled with this adventure; he wanted everybody else
to be thrilled — especially Mary! Like every one who
has not suffered much, he was repelled by a condition of
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
119
perpetual suffering in another. Of course Mary had good
reasons for her black moods — but she herself considered
it necessary to apologise for what she called her “com-
plainin'"! She knew that he wanted her to help en-
courage the others; but here she was, putting herself in a
corner and watching this wonderful proceeding, as if she
had said: “I'm an ant, and I stay in line - but I'll
not pretend I have any hope in it!"
Rosa and Jerry had insisted on coming, in spite of
Hal's offer to spare them. After them came the Bul-
garian, Wresmak; then the Polacks, Klowoski and Zamie-
rowski. Hal found these difficult names to remember, but
the Polacks were not at all sensitive about this; they would
grin good-naturedly while he practised, nor would they
mind if he gave it up and called them Tony and Pete.
They were humble men, accustomed all their lives to being
driven about. Hal looked from one to another of their
bowed forms and toil-worn faces, appearing more than
ever sombre and mournful in the dim light; he wondered
if the cruel persecution which had driven them to protest
would suffice to hold them in line.
Once a newcomer, having misunderstood the orders,
came to the front door and knocked; and Hal noted that
every one started, and some rose to their feet in alarm.
Again he recognised the atmosphere of novels of Russian
revolutionary life. He had to remind himself that these
men and women, gathered here like criminals, were merely
planning to ask for a right guaranteed them by the law!
The last to come was an Austrian miner named Huszar,
with whom Olson had got into touch. Then, it being time
to begin, everybody looked uneasily at everybody else.
Few of them had conspired before, and they did not know
quite how to set about it. Olson, the one who would natu
rally have been their leader, had deliberately stayed away.
They must run this check-weighman affair for themselves !
so Somebody talk," said Mrs. David at last; and then,
120
KING COAL
>
as the silence continued, she turned to Hal. “You're
going to be the check-weighman. You talk.”
" I'm the youngest man here,” said Hal, with a smile.
“Some older fellow talk.”
But nobody else smiled. “Go on!” exclaimed old
Mike; and so at last Hal stood up. It was something he
was to experience many times in the future; because_he..)
was an American, and educated, he was forced into a posi-
tion of leadership.-.-
“As I understand it, you people want a check-weigh-
man. Now, they tell me the pay for a check-weighman
should be three dollars a day, but we've got only seven
miners among us, and that's not enough. I will offer to
take the job for twenty-five cents a day from each man,
which will make a dollar-seventy-five, less than what I'm
getting now as a buddy. If we get thirty men to come in,
then I'll take ten cents a day from each, and make the
full three dollars. Does that seem fair?”
“ Sure!” said Mike; and the others added their assent
by word or nod.
“All right. Now, there's nobody that works in this
mine but knows the men don't get their weight. It would
cost the company several hundred dollars a day to give us
our weight, and nobody should be so foolish as to imagine
they'll do it without a struggle. We've got to make up
our minds to stand together.”
“Sure, stand together!” cried Mike.
“No get check-weighman!” exclaimed Jerry, pessimis-
tically.
“Not unless we try, Jerry," said Hal.
And Mike thumped his knee. “Sure try! And get
him too!”
“Right !” cried “Big Jack.” But his little wife was
not satisfied with the response of the others. She gave
Hal his first lesson in the drilling of these polyglot masses.
“ Talk to them. Make them understand you!” And she
our weldo it withou together.”ried Mike. terty, pessimis
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
121
pointed them out one by one with her finger: “You!
-- you other Polish fellow. Want check-weighman.
Want to get all weight. Get all our money. Under-
stand?"
“Yes, yes!”
“ Get committee, go see super! Want check-weighman.
Understand ? Got to have check-weighman! No back
down, no scare.”
“No-no scare!” Klowoski, who understood some
English, explained rapidly to Zamierowski; and Zamie-
rowski, whose head was still plastered where Jeff Cotton's
revolver had hit it, nodded eagerly in assent. In spite
of his bruises, he would stand by the others, and face the
boss.
This suggested another question. “Who's going to do
the talking to the boss ?”
“ You do that,” said Mrs. David, to Hal.
“But I'm the one that's to be paid. It's not for me
to talk.”
“No one else can do it right,” declared the woman.
“Sure — got to be American feller!” said Mike.
But Hal insisted. If he did the talking, it would look
as if the check-weighman had been the source of the move-
ment, and was engaged in making a good paying job for
himself.
There was discussion back and forth, until finally John
Edstrom spoke up. “Put me on the committee."
“ You?" said Hal. “But you'll be thrown out! And
what will your wife do?”
“I think my wife is going to die to-night," said Ed-
strom, simply.
. He sat with his lips set tightly, looking straight before
him. After a pause he went on: “If it isn't to-night, it
will be to-morrow, the doctor says; and after that, nothing
will matter. I shall have to go down to Pedro to bury
122
KING COAL
her, and if I have to stay, it will make little difference to
me, so I might as well do what I can for the rest of you.
I've been a miner all my life, and Mr. Cartwright knows
it; that might have some weight with him. Let Joe Smith
and Sikoria and myself be the ones to go and see him, and
the rest of you wait, and don't give up your jobs unless
you have to.”
§ 9. Having settled the matter of the committee, Hal
told the assembly how Alec Stone had asked him to spy
upon the men. He thought they should know about it;
the bosses might try to use it against him, as Olson had
warned. “They may tell you I'm a traitor," he said.
“You must trust me."
“We trust you!” exclaimed Mike, with fervour; and
the others nodded their agreement.
“All right,” Hal answered. “You can rest sure of
this one thing — if I get onto that tipple, you're going to
get your weights ! ”
"Hear, hear!” cried “Big Jack," in English fashion.
And a murmur ran about the room. They did not dare
make much noise, but they made clear that that was what
they wanted.
Hal sat down, and began to unroll the bandage from
his wrist. “I guess I'm through with this,” he said, and
explained how he had come to wear it.
“What?" cried Old Mike. “You fool me like that?"
And he caught the wrist, and when he had made sure there
was no sign of swelling upon it, he shook it so that he
almost sprained it really, laughing until the tears ran
down his cheeks. “You old son-of-a-gun!” he exclaimed.
Meantime Klowoski was telling the story to Zamierowski,
and Jerry Minetti was explaining it to Wresmak, in the
sort of pidgin-English which does duty in the camps. Hal
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
123
had never seen such real laughter since coming to North
Valley.
But conspirators cannot lend themselves long to merri-
ment. They came back to business again. It was agreed
that the hour for the committee's visit to the superintend-
ent should be quitting-time on the morrow. And then
John Edstrom spoke, suggesting that they should agree
upon their course of action in case they were offered vio-
lence.
. “You think there's much chance of that?” said some
one.
“ Sure there be!" cried Mike Sikoria. “One time in
Cedar Mountain we go see boss, say air-course blocked.
What you think he do them fellers? He hit them one
lick in nose, he kick them three times in behind, he run
them out!”
"Well,” said Hal, “ if there's going to be anything like
that, we must be ready."
“What you do?” demanded Jerry.
It was time for Hal's leadership. “If he hits me one
lick in the nose,” he declared, “I'll hit him one lick in
the nose, that's all.”
There was a bit of applause at this. That was the way
to talk! Hal tasted the joys of his leadership. But then
his fine self-confidence met with a sudden check — a “lick
in the nose” of his pride, so to speak. There came a
woman's voice from the corner, low and grim: “Yes!
And get ye’self killed for all your trouble ! »
He looked towards Mary Burke, and saw her vivid face,
flushed and frowning. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“Would you have us turn and run away?"
“I would that!” said she. “Rather than have ye
killed, I would! What'll ye do if he pulls his gun on
ye?''
“Would he pull his gun on a committee?"
Old Mike broke in again. “One time in Barela -
124
KING COAL
UU
ain't I told you how I lose my cars? I tell weigh-boss
somebody steal my cars, and he pull gun on me, and he
say, 'Get the hell off that tipple, you old billy-goat, I
shoot you full of holes !'"
Among his class-mates at college, Hal had been wont to
argue that the proper way to handle a burglar was to call
out to him, saying, “Go ahead, old chap, and help your-
self; there's nothing here I'm willing to get shot for."
What was the value of anything a burglar could steal, in
comparison with a man's own life? And surely, one
would have thought, this was a good time to apply the
plausible theory. But for some reason Hal failed even to
remember it. He was going ahead, precisely as if a ton
of coal per day was the one thing of consequence in life!
“What shall we do?” he asked. “We don't want to
back out."
But even while he asked the question, Hal was realising
that Mary was right. His was the attitude of the leisure-
class person, used to having his own way; but Mary,
though she had a temper too, was pointing the lesson of
self-control. It was the second time to-night that she had
injured his pride. But now he forgave her in his ad-
miration; he had always known that Mary had a mind
and could help him! His admiration was increased by
what John Edstrom was saying — they must do nothing
that would injure the cause of the “big union," and so
they must resolve to offer no physical resistance, no matter
what might be done to them.
There was vehement argument on the other side. “We
fight! We fight!” declared Old Mike, and cried out sud-
denly, as if in anticipation of the pain in his injured
nose. “You say me stand that?”
“ If you fight back," said Edstrom, “ we'll all get the
worst of it. The company will say we started the trouble,
and put us in the wrong. We've got to make up our mind
to rely on moral force.”
injured his had always knadmiration was at
ne to the 20 pbt the
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
125
So, after more discussion, it was agreed; every man
would keep his temper— that is, if he could! So they
shook hands all round, pledging themselves to stand firm.
But, when the meeting was declared adjourned, and they
stole out one by one into the night, they were a very sober
and anxious lot of conspirators.
SU
§ 10. Hal slept but little that night. Amid the
sounds of the snoring of eight of Reminitsky's other board-
ers, he lay going over in his mind various things which
might happen on the morrow. Some of them were far
from pleasant things; he tried to picture himself with a
broken nose, or with tar and feathers on him. He re-
called his theory as to the handling of burglars. The
“G. F. C.” was a burglar of gigantic and terrible propor-
tions; surely this was a time to call out, “Help yourself !”
But instead of doing it, Hal thought about Edstrom's
ants, and wondered at the power which made them stay
in line.
When morning came, he went up into the mountains,
where a man may wander and renew his moral force.
When the sun had descended behind the mountain-tops,
he descended also, and met Edstrom and Sikoria in front
of the company office.
They nodded a greeting, and Edstrom told Hal that
his wife had died during the day. There being no under-
taker in North Valley, he had arranged for a woman
friend to take the body down to Pedro, so that he might
be free for the interview with Cartwright. Hal put his
hand on the old man's shoulder, but attempted no word of
condolence; he saw that Edstrom had faced the trouble
and was ready for duty.
“Come ahead,” said the old man, and the three went
into the office. While a clerk took their message to the
1:0
KING COAL
inner office, they stood for a couple of minutes, shifting
uneasily from one foot to the other, and turning their
caps in their hands in the familiar manner of the lowly.
At last Mr. Cartwright appeared in the doorway, his
small sparely-built figure eloquent of sharp authority.
* Tell, what's this?" he inquired.
"If you please," said Edstrom, "we'd like to speak to
you. We've decided, sir, that we want to have a check-
Teighman."
"What?" The word came like the snap of a whip.
*Ted like to have a check-weighman, sir.”
There as a moment's silence. « Come in here."
Ther filed into the inner office, and he shut the door.
"Now. That's this?"
Edstrom repeated his words again.
“ That put that notion into your heads ?"
"Nothing, sir; only we thought we'd be better satis-
fied."
“ You think you're not getting your weight?”
“Tell, sir, you see — some of the men - we think it
would be better if we had the check-weighman. We're
willing to pay for him."
“Tho's this check-weighman to be?"
“ Joe Smith, here."
Hal braced himself to meet the other's stare. “Oh!
So it's you!" Then, after a moment, “So that's why
you were feeling so gay!”
Hal Fas not feeling in the least gay at the moment; but
be forebore to say so. There was a silence.
" Now, why do you fellows want to throw away your
money?" The superintendent started to argue with them,
showing the absurdity of the notion that they could gain
anything by such a course. The mine had been running
for years on its present system, and there had never been
any complaint. The idea that a company as big and as
responsible as the “G. F. C.” would stoop to cheat its
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
127
workers out of a few tons of coal! And so on, for several
minutes.
“Mr. Cartwright,” said Edstrom, when the other had
finished, “ you know I've worked all my life in mines, and
most of it in this district. I am telling you something I
know when I say there is general dissatisfaction through-
out these camps because the men feel they are not getting
their weight. You say there has been no public com-
plaint; you understand the reason for this -->>
“What is the reason?”
“Well,” said Edstrom, gently, "maybe you don't know
the reason — but anyway we've decided that we want a
check-weighman."
It was evident that the superintendent had been taken
by surprise, and was uncertain how to meet the issue.
“ You can imagine,” he said, at last, “the company
doesn't relish hearing that its men believe it's cheating
them "
"We don't say the company knows anything about it,
Mr. Cartwright. It's possible that some people may be
taking advantage of us, without either the company or
yourself having anything to do with it. It's for your
protection as well as ours that a check-weighman is
needed.”
« Thank you," said the other, drily. His tone revealed
that he was holding himself in by an effort. “Very well,”
he added, at last. “That's enough about the matter, if
your minds are made up. I'll give you my decision later."
This was a dismissal, and Mike Sikoria turned humbly,
and started to the door. But Edstrom was one of the
ants that did not readily “step one side"; and Mike took
a glance at him, and then stepped back into line in a
hurry, as if hoping his delinquency had not been noted.
“ If you please, Mr. Cartwright," said Edstrom,“ ved
like your decision, so as to have the check-weighman start
in the morning."
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KING COAL
“What? You're in such a hurry?"
“There's no reason for delay, sir. We've selected our
“Who are the men who are ready to pay him ? Just
you two?”
“I am not at liberty to name the other men, sir.”
“Oh! So it's a secret movement!"
“In a way — yes, sir."
“ Indeed!" said the superintendent, ominously. “And
you don't care what the company thinks about it!”
“It's not that, Mr. Cartwright, but we don't see any-
thing for the company to object to. It's a simple business
arrangement"
“Well, if it seems simple to you, it doesn't to me,”
snapped the other. And then, getting himself in hand,
“ Understand me, the company would not have the least
objection to the men making sure of their weights, if they
really think it's necessary. The company has always been
willing to do the right thing. But it's not a matter that
can be settled off hand. I will let you know later."
Again they were dismissed, and again Old Mike turned,
and Edstrom also. But now another ant sprang into the
ditch. “Just when will you be prepared to let the check-
weighman begin work, Mr. Cartwright?” asked Hal.
The superintendent gave him a sharp look, and again
it could be seen that he made a strong effort to keep his
temper. “I'm not prepared to say,'' he replied. “I
will let you know, as soon as convenient to me. That's
all now.” And as he spoke he opened the door, putting
something into the action that was a command.
“Mr. Cartwright," said Hal, “there's no law against
our having a check-weighman, is there?”
The look which these words drew from the superin-
tendent showed that he knew full well what the law was.
Hal accepted this look as an answer, and continued, “I
have been selected by a committee of the men to act as
ut now
obman hast. when
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
129
their check-weighman, and this committee has duly noti-
fied the company. That makes me a check-weighman, I
believe, Mr. Cartwright, and so all I have to do is to as-
sume my duties.” Without waiting for the superintend-
ent's answer, he walked to the door, followed by his some-
what shocked companions.
$ 11. At the meeting on the night before it had been
agreed to spread the news of the check-weighman move-
ment, for the sake of its propaganda value. So now when
the three men came out from the office, there was a crowd
waiting to know what had happened; men clamoured ques-
tions, and each one who got the story would be surrounded
by others eager to hear. Hal made his way to the board-
ing-house, and when he had finished his supper, he set out
from place to place in the camp, telling the men about the
check-weighman plan and explaining that it was a legal
right they were demanding. All this while Old Mike
stayed on one side of him, and Edstrom on the other; for
Tom Olson had insisted strenuously that Hal should not
be left alone for a moment. Evidently the bosses had
given the same order; for when Hal came out from Remi-
nitsky's, there was “ Jake” Predovich, the store-clerk, on
the fringe of the crowd, and he followed wherever Hal
went, doubtless making note of every one he spoke to.
They consulted as to where they were to spend the night.
Old Mike was nervous, taking the activities of the spy to
mean that they were to be thugged in the darkness. He
told horrible stories of that sort of thing. What could be
an easier way for the company to settle the matter? They
would fix up some story; the world outside would believe
they had been killed in a drunken row, perhaps over some
woman. This last suggestion especially troubled Hal; he
thought of the people at home. No, he must not sleep in
the village! And on the other hand he could not go down
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KING COAL
the canyon, for if he once passed the gate, he might not
be allowed to repass it...
An idea occurred to him. Why not go up the canyon?
There was no stockade at the upper end of the village -
nothing but wilderness and rocks, without even a road.
“But where we sleep?" demanded Old Mike, aghast.
“ Outdoors,” said Hal.
" Pluha biedna! And get the night air into my
bones?”
“You think you keep the day air in your bones when
you sleep inside?" laughed Hal.
“Why don't I, when I shut them windows tight, and
cover up my bones?”
“Well, risk the night air once,” said Hal. “It's bet-
ter than having somebody let it into you with a knife.”
“But that fellow Predovich — he follow us up canyon
too!”
“Yes, but he's only one man, and we don't have to fear
him. If he went back for others, he'd never be able to
find us in the darkness."
Edstrom, whose notions of anatomy were not so crude
as Mike's, gave his support to this suggestion; so they got
their blankets and stumbled up the canyon in the still,
star-lit night. For a while they heard the spy behind
them, but finally his footsteps died away, and after they
had moved on for some distance, they believed they were
safe till daylight. Hal had slept out many a night as a
hunter, but it was a new adventure to sleep out as the
game!
At dawn they rose, and shook the dew from their blan-
kets, and wiped it from their eyes. Hal was young, and
saw the glory of the morning, while poor Mike Sikoria
groaned and grumbled over his stiff and aged joints. He
thought he had ruined himself forever, but he took courage
at Edstrom's mention of coffee, and they hurried down to
breakfast at their boarding-house.
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
131
Now came a critical time, when Hal had to be left by
himself. Edstrom was obliged to go down to see to his
wife's funeral; and it was obvious that if Mike Sikoria
were to lay off work, he would be providing the boss with
an excuse for firing him. The law which provided for a
check-weighman had failed to provide for a check-weigh-
man's body-guard !
Hal had announced his programme in that flash of de-
fiance in Cartwright's office. As soon as work started up,
he went to the tipple. “Mr. Peters," he said, to the tip-
ple-boss, “I've come to act as check-weighman.”
The tipple boss was a man with a big black moustache,
which made him look like the pictures of Nietzsche. He
stared at Hal, frankly dumbfounded. “What the devil ?”
said he.
“Some of the men have chosen me check-weighman,"
explained Hal, in a business-like manner. “When their
cars come up, I'll see to their weights."
“You keep off this tipple, young fellow !” said Peters.
His manner was equally business-like.
So the would-be check-weighman came out and sat on
the steps to wait. The tipple was a fairly public place,
and he judged he was as safe there as anywhere. Some
of the men grinned and winked at him as they went about
their work; several found a chance to whisper words of
encouragement. And all morning he sat, like a protestant
at the palace-gates of a mandarin in China. It was tedi-
ous work, but he believed that he would be able to stand
it longer than the company.
§ 12. In the middle of the morning a man came up to
him “Bud” Adams, a younger brother of the “J. P.,"
and Jeff Cotton's assistant. Bud was stocky, red-faced,
and reputed to be handy with his fists. So Hal rose up
warily when he saw him.
132
KING COAL
“ Hey, you," said Bud. “There's a telegram at the
office for you."
“For me?"
“Your name's Joe Smith, ain't it?"
“ Yes."
“Well, that's what it says."
Hal considered for a moment. There was no one to be
telegraphing Joe Smith. It was only a ruse to get him
away.
“What's in the telegram?” he asked.
“How do I know?” said Bud.
“ Where is it from?"
“I dunno that.”
“Well," said Hal, "you might bring it to me here."
The other's eyes flew open. This was not a revolt, it
was a revolution! “Who the hell's messenger boy do
you think I am?" he demanded.
“Don't the company deliver telegrams?” countered
Hal, politely. And Bud stood struggling with his human
impulses, while Hal watched him cautiously. But appar-
ently those who had sent the messenger had given him pre-
cise instructions; for he controlled his wrath, and turned
and strode away.
Hal continued his vigil. He had his lunch with him;
and was prepared to eat alone — understanding the risk
that a man would be running who showed sympathy with
him. He was surprised, therefore, when Johannson, the
giant Swede, came and sat down by his side. There also
came a young Mexican labourer, and a Greek miner. The
revolution was spreading!
Hal felt sure the company would not let this go on.
And sure enough, towards the middle of the afternoon, the
tipple-boss came out and beckoned to him. “Come here,
you!” And Hal went in.
The “weigh-room" was a fairly open place; but at one
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
133
is to get Oto Esperiebou'd bette
side was a door into an office. “This way," said the man.
But Hal stopped where he was.
“ This is where the check-weighman belongs, Mr.
Peters."
“But I want to talk to you."
“I can hear you, sir." Hal was in sight of the men,
and he knew that was his only protection.
The tipple-boss went back into the office; and a minute
later Hal saw what had been intended. The door opened
and Alec Stone came out.
He stood for a moment looking at his political hench-
man. Then he came up. “Kid,” he said, in a low voice,
“you're overdoing this. I didn't intend you to go so far.”
“This is not what you intended, Mr. Stone," answered
Hal.
The pit-boss came closer yet. “What you looking for,
kid? What you expect to get out of this?”
Hal's gaze was unwavering. “Experience,” he replied.
“You're feeling smart, sonny. But you'd better stop
and realise what you're up against. You ain't going to
get away with it, you know; get that through your head —
you ain't going to get away with it. You'd better come in
and have a talk with me."
There was a silence.
“Don't you know how it'll be, Smith? These little
fires start up — but we put 'em out. We know how to do
it, we've got the machinery. It'll all be forgotten in a
week or two, and then where'll you be at? Can't you
see?”
As Hal still made no reply, the other's voice dropped
lower. “I understand your position. Just give me a
nod, and it'll be all right. You tell the men that you've
watched the weights, and that they're all right. They'll
be satisfied, and you and me can fix it up later."
“Mr. Stone," said Hal, with intense gravity, “am I
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KING COAL
and over the tz. Stone, you haat this matte
correct in the impression that you are offering me a
bribe?"
In a flash, the man's self-control vanished. He thrust
his huge fist within an inch of Hal's nose, and uttered a
foul oath. But Hal did not remove his nose from the
danger-zone, and over the fist a pair of angry brown eyes
gazed at the pit-boss. “Mr. Stone, you had better realise
this situation. I am in dead earnest about this matter,
and I don't think it will be safe for you to offer me vio
lence."
For a moment or two the man continued to glare at Hal;
but it appeared that he, like Bud Adams, had been given
instructions. He turned abruptly and strode back into
the office.
Hal stood for a bit, until he had made sure of his com-
posure. After which he strolled over towards the scales.
A difficulty had occurred to him for the first time - that
he did not know anything about the working of coal-scales.
But he was given no time to learn. The tipple-boss re-
appeared. “Get out of here, fellow!” said he.
“But you invited me in,” remarked Hal, mildly.
“Well, now I invite you out again.”
And so the protestant resumed his vigil at the man-
darin's palace-gates.
$ 13. When the quitting-whistle blew, Mike Sikoria
came quickly to join Hal and hear what had happened.
Mike was exultant, for several new men had come up to
him and offered to join the check-weighman movement.
The old fellow was not sure whether this was owing to his
own eloquence as a propagandist, or to the fine young
American buddy he had; but in either case he was equally
proud. He gave Hal a note which had been slipped into
his hand, and which Hal recognised as coming from Tom
Olson. The organiser reported that every one in the camp
CY
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
135
esses it men stay with he added thacess,
their proceed for and Fathem
concertain - the neither of the their propres."
was talking check-weighman, and so from a propaganda
standpoint they could count their move a success, no mat-
ter what the bosses might do. He added that Hal should
have a number of men stay with him that night, so as to
have witnesses if the company tried to “pull off any-
thing.” “And be careful of the new men,” he added;
“one or two of them are sure to be spies.”
Hal and Mike discussed their programme for the sec-
ond night. Neither of them were keen for sleeping out
again — the old Slovak because of his bones, and Hal be-
cause he saw there were now several spies following them
about. At Reminitsky's, he spoke to some of those who
had offered their support, and asked them if they would
be willing to spend the night with him in Edstrom's cabin.
Not one shrank from this test of sincerity; they all
got their blankets, and repaired to the place, where Hal
lighted the lamp and held an impromptu check-weighman
meeting — and incidentally entertained himself with a
spy-hunt! .
One of the new-comers was a Pole named Wojecicowski;
this, on top of Zamierowski, caused Hal to give up all
effort to call the Poles by their names. “Woji” was an
earnest little man, with a pathetic, tired face. He ex-
plained his presence by the statement that he was sick of
being robbed; he would pay his share for a check-weigh-
man, and if they fired him, all right, he would move on,
and to hell with them. After which declaration he rolled
up in a blanket and went to snoring on the floor of the
cabin. That did not seem to be exactly the conduct of a
spy.
Another was an Italian, named Farenzena; a dark-
browed and sinister-looking fellow, who might have served
as a villain in any melodrama. He sat against the wall
and talked in guttural tones, and Hal regarded him with
deep suspicion. It was not easy to understand his Eng-
lish, but finally Hal managed to make out the story he was
sps one of top of
Poles
136
KING COAL
telling -- that he was in love with a “ fanciulla,” and that
the "fanciulla ” was playing with him. He had about
made up his mind that she was a coquette, and not worth
bothering with, so he did not care any curses if they sent
him down the canyon. “Don't fight for fanciulla, fight
for check-weighman!” he concluded, with a growl.
Another volunteer was a Greek labourer, a talkative
young chap who had sat with Hal at lunch-time, and had
given his name as Apostolikas. He entered into fluent
conversation with Hal, explaining how much interested he
was in the check-weighman plan; he wanted to know just
what they were going to do, what chance of success they
thought they had, who had started the movement and who
was in it. Hal's replies took the form of little sermons on
working-class solidarity. Each time the man would start
to “pump” him, Hal would explain the importance of
the present issue to the miners, how they must stand by
one another and make sacrifices for the good of all. After
he had talked abstract theories for half an hour, Apos-
tolikas gave up and moved on to Mike Sikoria, who, hav-
ing been given a wink by Hal, talked about “scabs," and
the dreadful things that honest workingmen would do to
them. When finally the Greek grew tired again, and lay
down on the floor, Hal moved over to Old Mike and whis-
pered that the first name of Apostolikas must be Judas!
§ 14. Old Mike went to sleep quickly; but Hal had
not worked for several days, and had exciting thoughts to
keep him awake. He had been lying quiet for a couple
of hours, when he became aware that some one was moving
in the room. There was a lamp burning dimly, and
through half-closed eyes he made out one of the men lift-
ing himself to a sitting position. At first he could not be
sure which one it was, but finally he recognised the Greek.
Hal lay motionless, and after a minute or so he stole
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
137
another look and saw the man crouching and listening, his
hands still on the floor. Through half opened eye-lids
Hal continued to steal glimpses, while the other rose and
tip-toed towards him, stepping carefully over the sleeping
forms.
Hal did his best to simulate the breathing of sleep: no
easy matter, with the man stooping over him, and a knife-
thrust as one of the possibilities of the situation. He took
the chance, however; and after what seemed an age, he felt
the man's fingers lightly touch his side. They moved
down to his coat-pocket.
“Going to search me!” thought Hal; and waited, ex-
pecting the hand to travel to other pockets. But after
what seemed an interminable period, he realised that Apos-
tolikas had risen again, and was stepping back to his place.
In a minute more he had lain down, and all was still in the
cabin.
Hal's hand moved to the pocket, and his fingers slid in-
side. They touched something, which he recognised in-
stantly as a roll of bills.
“I see!” thought he. “A frame-up!” And he
laughed to himself, his mind going back to early boyhood
- to a dilapidated trunk in the attic of his home, con-
taining story-books that his father had owned. He could
see them now, with their worn brown covers and crude
pictures : “ The Luck and Pluck Series,” by Horatio
Alger; “Live or Die," "Rough and Ready," etc. How
he had thrilled over the story of the country-boy who comes
to the city, and meets the villain who robs his employer's
cash-drawer and drops the key of it into the hero's pocket!
Evidently some one connected with the General Fuel Com-
pany had read Horatio Alger!
Hal realised that he could not be too quick about get-
ting those bills out of his pocket. He thought of return-
ing them to “ Judas,” but decided that he would save them
for Edstrom, who was likely to need money before long.
138
KING COAL
He gave the Greek half an hour to go to sleep, then with
his pocket-knife he gently picked out a hole in the cinders
of the floor and buried the money as best he could. After
which he wormed his way to another place, and lay think-
ing.
§ 15. Would they wait until morning, or would they
come soon? He was inclined to the latter guess, so he
was only slightly startled when, an hour or two later, he
heard the knob of the cabin-door turned. A moment later
came a crash and the door was burst open, with the shoul-
der of a heavy man behind it..
The room was in confusion in a second. Men sprang
to their feet, crying out; others sat up bewildered, still
half asleep. The room was bright from an electric torch
in the hands of one of the invaders. “There's the fel-
low!” cried a voice, which Hal instantly recognised as
belonging to Jeff Cotton, the camp-marshal. “Stick 'em
up, there! You, Joe Smith !." Hal did not wait to see
the glint of the marshal's revolver.
There followed a silence. As this drama was being
staged for the benefit of the other men, it was necessary to
give them time to get thoroughly awake, and to get their
eyes used to the light. Meantime Hal stood, his hands
in the air. Behind the torch he could make out the faces
of the marshal, Bud Adams, Alec Stone, Jake Predovich,
and two or three others.
“Now, men,” said Cotton, at last, "you are some of
the fellows that want a check-weighman. And this is the
man you chose. Is that right?”
There was no answer.
“I'm going to show you the kind of fellow he is. He
came to Mr. Stone here and offered to sell you out."
“It's a lie, men,” said Hal, quietly.
“He took some money from Mr. Stone to sell you out!”
insisted the marshal.
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
139
“It's a lie,” said Hal, again.
“He's got that money now!" cried the other.
And Hal cried, in turn, “ They are trying to frame
something on me, boys! Don't let them fool you!"
“ Shut up," commanded the marshal; then, to the men,
“I'll show you. I think he's got that money on him now.
Jake, search him."
The store-clerk advanced.
“Watch out, boys!” exclaimed Hal. “They will put
something in my pockets.” And then to Old Mike, who
had started angrily forward, “It's all right, Mike! Let
them alone!”
“ Jake, take off your coat,” ordered Cotton. “Roll up
your sleeves. Show your hands."
It was for all the world like the performance of a
prestidigitator. The little Jew took off his coat and rolled
up his sleeves above his elbows. He exhibited his hands
to the audience, turning them this way and that; then,
keeping them out in front of him, he came slowly towards
Hal, like a hypnotist about to put him to sleep.
“Watch him!” said Cotton. “He's got that money
on him, I know."
“Look sharp!” cried Hal. “If it isn't there, they'll
put it there.”
“ Keep your hands up, young fellow," commanded the
marshal. “ Keep back from him there!” This last to
Mike Sikoria and the other spectators, who were pressing
nearer, peering over one another's shoulders.
· It was all very serious at the time, but afterwards, when
Hal recalled the scene, he laughed over the grotesque figure
of Predovich searching his pockets while keeping as far
away from him as possible, so that every one might know
that the money had actually come out of Hal's pocket.
The searcher put his hands first in the inside pockets, then
in the pockets of Hal's shirt. Time was needed to build
up this climax!
140
KING COAL
“ Turn around,” commanded Cotton; and Hal turned,
and the Jew went through his trouser-pockets. He took
out in turn Hal's watch, his comb and mirror, his hand-
kerchief; after examining them and holding them up, he
dropped them onto the floor. There was a breathless hush
when he came to Hal's purse, and proceeded to open it.
Thanks to the greed of the company, there was nothing in
the purse but some small change. Predovich closed it and
dropped it to the floor.
"Wait now! He's not through!” cried the master of
ceremonies. “He's got that money somewhere, boys!
Did you look in his side-pockets, Jake?”
“Not yet,” said Jake.
“Look sharp!” cried the marshal; and every one craned
forward eagerly, while Predovich stooped down on one
knee, and put his hand into one coat pocket and then into
the other.
He took his hand out again, and the look of dismay
upon his face was so obvious that Hal could hardly keep
from laughing. “It ain't dere!” he declared.
“What?” cried Cotton, and they stared at each other.
“ By God, he's got rid of it!”
“There's no money on me, boys!" proclaimed Hal.
“It's a job they are trying to put over on us."
“He's hid it!" shouted the marshal. “Find it,
Jake!"
Then Predovich began to search again, swiftly, and with
less circumstance. He was not thinking so much about
the spectators now, as about all that good money gone for
nothing! He made Hal take off his coat, and ripped open
the lining; he unbuttoned the trousers and felt inside; he
thrust his fingers down inside Hal's shoes.
But there was no money, and the searchers were at a
standstill. “He took twenty-five dollars from Mr. Stone
to sell you out!” declared the marshal. “He's managed
to get rid of it somehow.”
I
THE SERFS OF KING COAL 141
“Boys," cried Hal, “ they sent a spy in here, and told
him to put money on me." He was looking at Aposto-
likas as he spoke; he saw the man start and shrink back.
“That's him! He's a scab!” cried Old Mike. “He's
got the money on him, I bet !” And he made a move to-
wards the Greek.
So the camp-marshal realised suddenly that it was time
to ring down the curtain on this drama.“ That's enough
of this foolishness,” he declared. “Bring that fellow
along here!” And in a flash a couple of the party had
seized Hal's wrists, and a third had grabbed him by the
collar of his shirt. Before the miners had time to realise
what was happening, they had rushed their prisoner out
of the cabin.
The quarter of an hour which followed was an uncom-
fortable one for the would-be check-weighman. Outside,
in the darkness, the camp-marshal was free to give vent
to his rage, and so was Alec Stone. They poured out
curses upon him, and kicked him and cuffed him as they
went along. One of the men who held his wrists twisted
his arm, until he cried out with pain; then they cursed
him harder, and bade him hold his mouth. Down the
dark and silent street they went swiftly, and into the
camp-marshal's office, and upstairs to the room which
served as the North Valley jail. Hal was glad enough
when they left him here, slamming the iron door behind
them.
$ 16. It had been a crude and stupid plot, yet Hal
realised that it was adapted to the intelligence of the men
for whom it was intended. But for the accident that he
had stayed awake, they would have found the money on
him, and next morning the whole camp would have heard
that he had sold out. Of course his immediate friends, the
members of the committee, would not have believed it; but
142
KING COAL
the mass of the workers would have believed it, and so
the purpose of Tom Olson's visit to North Valley would
have been balked. Throughout the experiences which
were to come to him, Hal retained his vivid impression of
that adventure; it served to him as a symbol of many
things. Just as the bosses had tried to bedevil him, to
destroy his influence with his followers, so later on he
saw them trying to bedevil the labour-movement, to con-
fuse the intelligence of the whole country.
Now Hal was in jail. He went to the window and
tried the bars — but found that they had been made for
such trials. Then he groped his way about in the dark-
ness, examining his prison, which proved to be a steel cage
built inside the walls of an ordinary room. In one corner
was a bench, and in another corner another bench, some-
what broader, with a mattress upon it. Hal had read a
little about jails — enough to cause him to avoid this mat-
tress. He sat upon the bare bench, and began to think.
It is a fact that there is a peculiar psychology inci- .
dental to being in jail; just as there is a peculiar psy-
chology incidental to straining your back and breaking
your hands loading coal-cars in a five foot vein; and an-
other, and quite different psychology, produced by living
at ease off the labours of coal-miners. In a jail, you have
first of all the sense of being an animal; the animal side
of your being is emphasised, the animal passions of hatred
and fear are called into prominence, and if you are to
escape being dominated by them, it can only be by intense
and concentrated effort of the mind. So, if you are a
thinking man, you do a great deal of thinking in a jail;
the days are long, and the nights still longer -- you have
time for all the thoughts you can have.
The bench was hard, and seemed to grow harder. There
was no position in which it could be made to grow soft.
Hal got up and paced about, then he lay down for a while,
then got up and walked again; and all the while he

THE SERFS OF KING COAL
143
thought, and all the while the jail-psychology was being
impressed upon his mind.
First, he thought about his immediate problem. What
were they going to do to him? The obvious thing would
be to put him out of camp, and so be done with him; but
would they rest content with that, in their irritation at the
trick he had played ? Hal had heard vaguely of that
native American institution, the “ third degree, but had
never had occasion to think of it as a possibility in his own
life. What a difference it made, to think of it in that
way!
Hal had told Tom Olson that he would not pledge him-
self to organise a union, but that he would pledge himself
to get a check-weighman; and Olson had laughed, and
seemed quite content — apparently assuming that it would
come to the same thing. And now, it rather seemed that
Olson had known what he was talking about. For 'Hal
found his thoughts no longer troubled with fears of labour
union domination and walking delegate tyranny; on the
contrary, he became suddenly willing for the people of
North Valley to have a union, and to be as tyrannical as
they knew how! And in this change, though Hal had no
idea of it, he was repeating an experience common among
reformers; many of whom begin as mild and benevolent
advocates of some obvious bit of justice, and under the
operation of the jail-psychology are made into blazing
and determined revolutionists. “Eternal spirit of the
chainless mind,” says Byron. “Greatest in dungeons
Liberty thou art!”
The poet goes on to add that “When thy sons to fet-
ters are confined —" then “Freedom's fame finds wings
on every wind.” And just as it was in Chillon, so it
seemed to be in North Valley. Dawn came, and Hal stood
at the window of his cell, and heard the whistle blow and
saw the workers going to their tasks, the toil-bent, pallid
faced creatures of the underworld, like a file of baboons
he was toef whom bilen of justic
tome obvious begin as mice common
144
KING COAL
in the half-light. He waved his hand to them, and they
stopped and stared, and then waved back; he realised that
every one of those men must be thinking about his im-
prisonment, and the reason for it -- and so the jail-psy-
chology was being communicated to them. If any of them
cherished distrust of unions, or doubt of the need of or-
ganisation in North Valley - that distrust and that doubt
were being dissipated!
- There was only one thing discouraging about the
matter, as Hal thought it over. Why should the bosses
have left him here in plain sight, when they might so
easily have put him into an automobile, and whisked him
down to Pedro before daylight? Was it a sign of the
contempt they felt for their slaves ? Did they count upon
the sight of the prisoner in the window to produce fear
instead of resentment? And might it not be that they
understood their workers better than the would-be check-
weighman? He recalled Mary Burke's pessimism about
them, and anxiety gnawed at his soul; and — such is the
operation of the jail-psychology -- he fought against this
anxiety. He hated the company for its cynicism, he
clenched his hands and set his teeth, desiring to teach the
bosses a lesson, to prove to them that their workers were
not slaves, but men!
$ 17. Toward the middle of the morning, Hal heard
footsteps in the corridor outside, and a man whom he did
not know opened the barred door and set down a pitcher
of water and a tin plate with a hunk of bread on it. When
he started to leave, Hal spoke: “ Just a minute, please.”
The other frowned at him.
“ Can you give me any idea how long I am to stay in
here?"
“I cannot," said the man.
THE SERFS OF KING COAL 145
"If I'm to be locked up," said Hal, “I've certainly a
right to know what is the charge against me."
“Go to blazes !” said the other, and slammed the door
and went down the corridor.
Hal went to the window again, and passed the time
watching the people who went by Groups of ragged
children gathered, looking up at him, grinning and making
signs — until some one appeared below and ordered them
away.
As time passed, Hal became hungry. The taste of
bread, eaten alone, becomes speedily monotonous, and the
taste of water does not relieve it; nevertheless, Hal
munched the bread, and drank the water, and wished for
more.
The day dragged by; and late in the afternoon the
keeper came again, with another hunk of bread and an-
other pitcher of water. “Listen a moment,” said Hal, as
the man was turning away.
“I got nothin' to say to you," said the other.
“I have something to say to you," pleaded Hal. “I
have read in a book — I forget where, but it was written
by some doctor — that white bread does not contain the
elements necessary to the sustaining of the human body.”
“Go on!” growled the jailer. «What yer givin' us?”
“I mean,” explained Hal, “ a diet of bread and water
is not what I'd choose to live on."
“What would yer choose?”
The tone suggested that the question was a rhetorical
one; but Hal took it in good faith. “If I could have
some beefsteak and mashed potatoes —"
The door of the cell closed with a slam whose echoes
drowned out the rest of that imaginary menu. And so
once more Hal sat on the hard bench, and munched his
hunk of bread, and thought jail-thoughts.
When the quitting-whistle blew, he stood at the win-
dow, and saw the groups of his friends once again, and got
ad in a bothing to sa you,” said the
146
KING COAL
their covert signals of encouragement. Then darkness
fell, and another long vigil began.
It was late; Hal had no means of telling how late, save
up his mind that he was in for the night, and had settled
himself on the floor with his arm for a pillow, and had
dozed off to sleep, when suddenly there came a scraping
sound against the bars of his window. He sat up with a
start, and heard another sound, unmistakably the rustling
of paper. He sprang to the window, where by the faint
light of the stars he could make out something dangling.
He caught at it; it seemed to be an ordinary note-book,
such as stenographers use, tied on the end of a pole.
Hal looked out, but could see no one. He caught hold
of the pole and jerked it, as a signal; and then he heard
a whisper which he recognised instantly as Rovetta's.
“Hello! Listen. Write your name hundred times in
book. I come back. Understand ?"
The command was a sufficiently puzzling one, but Hal
realised that this was no time for explanations. He an-
swered, “Yes," and broke the string and took the note
book. There was a pencil attached, with a piece of cloth
wrapped round the point to protect it.
The pole was withdrawn, and Hal sat on the bench, and
began to write, three or four times on a page, “ Joe Smith
- Joe Smith — Joe Smith.” It is not hard to write
“Joe Smith,” even in darkness, and so, while his hand
moved, Hal's mind was busy with this mystery. It was
fairly to be assumed that his committee did not want his
autograph to distribute for a souvenir; they must want it
for some vital purpose, to meet some new move of the
bosses. The answer to this riddle was not slow in com-
ing: having failed in their effort to find money on him,
the bosses had framed up a letter, which they were exhibit-
ing as having been written by the would-be check-weigh-
withdraw our times is not be
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
147
man. His friends wanted his signature to disprove tho
authenticity of the letter.
Hal wrote a free and rapid hand, with a generous flour-
ish; he felt sure it would be different from Alec Stone's
idea of a working-boy's scrawl. His pencil flew on and
on —“ Joe Smith -- Joe Smith -" page after page, until
he was sure that he had written a signature for every
miner in the camp, and was beginning on the buddies.
Then, hearing a whistle outside, he stopped and sprang to
the window.
“Throw it!” whispered a voice; and Hal threw it.
He saw a form vanish up the street, after which all was
quiet again. He listened for a while, to see if he had
roused his jailer; then he lay down on the bench — and
thought more jail-thoughts !
med all who would in his hands, whime along,
$ 18. Morning came, and the mine-whistle blew, and
Hal stood at the window again. This time he noticed that
some of the miners on their way to work had little strips
of paper in their hands, which strips they waved con-
spicuously for him to see. Old Mike Sikoria came along,
having a whole bunch of strips in his hands, which he was
distributing to all who would take them. Doubtless he
had been warned to proceed secretly, but the excitement of
the occasion had been too much for him; he capered about
like a young spring lamb, and waved the strips at Hal in
plain sight of all the world.
Such indiscreet behaviour met the return it invited.
As Hal watched, he saw a stocky figure come striding
round the corner, confronting the startled old Slovak.
It was Bud Adams, the mine-guard, and his hard fists were
clenched, and his whole body gathered for a blow. Mike
saw him, and was as if suddenly struck with paralysis;
his toil-bent shoulders sunk together, and his hands fell to
148
KING COAL
paper wted rabbit, mihars, with an a blow did not
with Mike at some time
Mitosa ferocall; the
Vhen unwill process to
his sides - his fingers opening, and his precious strips of
paper fluttering to the ground. Mike stared at Bud like a
fascinated rabbit, making no move to protect himself.
Hal clutched the bars, with an impulse to leap to his
friend's defence. But the expected blow did not fall; the
mine-guard contented himself with glaring ferociously,
and giving an order to the old man. Mike stooped and
picked up the papers — the process taking him some time,
as he was unable or unwilling to take his eyes off the
mine-guard's. When he got them all in his hands, there
came another order, and he gave them up to Bud. After
which he fell back a step, and the other followed, his fists
still clenched, and a blow seeming about to leap from him
every moment. Mike receded another step, and then an-
other -- so the two of them backed out of sight around the
corner. Men who had been witnesses of this little drama
turned and slunk off, and Hal was given no clue as to its
outcome.
A couple of hours afterwards, Hal's jailer came up, this
time without any bread and water. He opened the door
and commanded the prisoner to “come along." Hal went
downstairs, and entered Jeff Cotton's office.
The camp-marshal sat at his desk with a cigar between
his teeth. He was writing, and he went on writing until
the jailer had gone out and closed the door. Then he
turned his revolving chair and crossed his legs, leaning
back and looking at the young miner in his dirty blue
overalls, his hair tousled and his face pale from his period
of confinement. The camp-marshal's aristocratic face
wore a smile. “Well, young fellow," said he, “ you've
been having a lot of fun in this camp."
“Pretty fair, thank you," answered Hal.
“Beat us out all along the line, hey?" Then, after
a pause, “ Now, tell me, what do you think you're going to
get out of it?"
“That's what Alec Stone asked me,” replied Hal. “I
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
149
don't think it would do much good to explain. I doubt if
you believe in altruism any more than Stone does."
The camp-marshal took his cigar from his mouth, and
flicked off the ashes. His face became serious, and there
was a silence, while he studied Hal. “You à union or-
ganiser ?” he asked, at last.
“No," said Hal.
“You're an educated man; you're no labourer, that I
know. Who's paying you?”
“ There you are! You don't believe in altruism.”
The other blew a ring of smoke across the room. “Just
want to put the company in the hole, hey? Some kind of
agitator?"
“I am a miner who wants to be a check-weighman.”
“ Socialist ?”
“ That depends upon developments here."
“Well;" said the marshal, "you're an intelligent chap,
that I can see. So I'll lay my hand on the table and you
can study it. You're not going to serve as check-weigh-
man in North Valley, nor any other place that the 'G. F.
C.' has anything to do with. Nor are you going to have
the satisfaction of putting the company in a hole. We're
not even going to beat you up and make a martyr of you.
I was tempted to do that the other night, but I changed
my mind."
“You might change the bruises on my arm,” suggested
Hal, in a pleasant voice.
“We're going to offer you the choice of two things,"
continued the marshal, without heeding this mild sarcasm.
“Either you will sign a paper admitting that you took the
twenty-five dollars from Alec Stone, in which case we will
fire you and call it square; or else we will prove that you
took it, in which case we will send you to the pen for five
or ten years. Do you get that?”
Now when Hal had applied for the job of check-weigh-
man, he had been expecting to be thrown out of the camp,
150
KING COAL
and had intended to go, counting his education complete.
But here, as he sat and gazed into the marshal's menacing
eyes, he decided suddenly that he did not want to leave
North Valley. He wanted to stay and take the measure
of this gigantic “burglar," the General Fuel Company.
“That's a serious threat, Mr. Cotton," he remarked.
“Do you often do things like that?”
“We do them when we have to," was the reply.
“Well, it's a novel proposition. Tell me more about it.
What will the charge be?”
“ I'm not sure about that — we'll put it up to our law-
yers. Maybe they'll call it conspiracy, maybe blackmail.
They'll make it whatever carries a long enough sentence.”
“And before I enter my plea, would you mind letting
me see the letter I'm supposed to have written.”
“Oh, you've heard about the letter, have you?” said
the camp-marshal, lifting his eyebrows in mild surprise.
He took from his desk a sheet of paper and handed it to
Hal, who read:
"Dere mister Stone, You don't need worry about the
check-wayman. Pay me twenty five dollars, and I will fix
it right. Yours try, Joe Smith.”
Having taken in the words of the letter, Hal examined
the paper, and perceived that his enemies had taken the
trouble, not merely to forge a letter in his name, but to
have it photographed, to have a cut made of the photo-
graph, and to have it printed. Beyond doubt they had
distributed it broadcast in the camp. And all this in a
few hours! It was as Olson had said — a regular system
to keep the men bedevilled.
S
§ 19. Hal took a minute or so to ponder the situation.
“Mr. Cotton," he said, at last. “I know how to spell
better than that. Also my handwriting is a bit more
fluent."
THE SERFS OF KING COAL 151
There was a trace of a smile about the marshal's cruel
lips. “I know," he replied. “I've not failed to com-
pare them.”
“You have a good secret-service department ! ” said
Hal.
“Before you get through, young fellow, you'll discover
that our legal department is equally efficient."
“Well," said Hal, “ they'll need to be; for I don't see
how you can get round the fact that I'm a check-weighman,
chosen according to the law, and with a group of the men
behind me.”
“If that's what you're counting on," retorted Cotton,
“ you may as well forget it. You've got no group any
more."
“Oh! You've got rid of them?”.
“We've got rid of the ring-leaders."
“Of whom?"
“ That old billy-goat, Sikoria, for one."
“You've shipped him?"
“We have.”
“I saw the beginning of that. Where have you sent
him?"
service department!”
“And who else?"
“John Edstrom has gone down to bury his wife. It's
not the first time that dough-faced old preacher has made
trouble for us, but it'll be the last. You'll find him in
Pedro - probably in the poor-house."
“No," responded Hal, quickly — and there came just a
touch of elation in his voice —“ he won't have to go to the
poor-house at once. You see, I've just sent twenty-five
dollars to him.”
The camp-marshal frowned. “Really!” Then, after
a pause, “ You did have that money on you! I thought
that lousy Greek had got away with it!”
152
KING COAL
“No. Your knave was honest. But so was I. I
knew Edstrom had been getting short weight for years, so
he was the one person with any right to the money."
This story was untrue, of course; the money was still
buried in Edstrom's cabin. But Hal meant for the old
miner to bave it in the end, and meantime he wanted to
throw Cotton off the track.
“A clever trick, young man!” said the marshal. “But
you'll repent it before you're through. It only makes me
more determined to put you where you can't do us any
harm.”
“You mean in the pen? You understand, of course,
it will mean a jury trial. You can get a jury to do what
you want?”
“They tell me you've been taking an interest in politics
in Pedro County. Haven't you looked into our jury-
system ?"
“No, I haven't got that far."
The marshal began blowing rings of smoke again.
“Well, there are some three hundred men on our jury-list,
and we know them all. You'll find yourself facing a box
with Jake Predovich as foreman, three company-clerks,
two of Alf Raymond's saloon-keepers, a ranchman with a
mortgage held by the company-bank, and five Mexicans
who have no idea what it's all about, but would stick a
knife into your back for a drink of whiskey. The Dis-
trict Attorney is a politician who favours the miners in
his speeches, and favours us in his acts; while Judge Den-
ton, of the district court, is the law partner of Vagleman,
our chief-counsel. Do you get all that?"
“Yes," said Hal. “I've heard of the 'Empire of
Raymond’; I'm interested to see the machinery. You're
quite open about it!”
“Well," replied the marshal, “I want you to know
what you're up against. We didn't start this fight, and
we're perfectly willing to end it without trouble. All we
THE SERFS OF KING COAL 153
ask is that you make amends for the mischief you've done
us."
“By making amends, you mean I'm to disgrace my-
self — to tell the men I'm a traitor ?”
“Precisely," said the marshal.
“I think I'll have a seat while I consider the matter,"
said Hal; and he took a chair, and stretched out his legs,
and made himself elaborately comfortable. “That bench
upstairs is frightfully hard,” said he, and smiled mock-
ingly upon the camp-marshal.
$ 20. When this conversation was continued, it was
upon a new and unexpected line. “Cotton,” remarked
the prisoner, “I perceive that you are a man of educa-
tion. It occurs to me that once upon a time you must
have been what the world calls a gentleman."
The blood started into the camp-marshal's face. “You
go to hell!” said he.
“I did not intend to ask questions, continued Hal.
“I can well understand that you mightn't care to answer
them. My point is that, being an ex-gentleman, you may
appreciate certain aspects of this case which would be
beyond the understanding of a nigger-driver like Stone,
or an efficiency expert like Cartwright. One gentleman
can recognise another, even in a miner's costume. Isn't
that so?"
Hal paused for an answer, and the marshal gave him a
wary look. “I suppose so,” he said.
"Well, to begin with, one gentleman does not smoke
without inviting another to join him.”
The man gave another look. Hal thought he was going
to consign him to hades once more; but instead he took a
cigar from his vest-pocket and held it out.
“No, thank you,” said Hal, quietly. “I do not smoke.
But I like to be invited."
154
KING COAL
There was a pause, while the two men measured each
other.
“Now, Cotton," began the prisoner, “ you pictured the
scene at my trial. Let me carry on the story for you.
You have your case all framed up, your hand-picked jury
in the box, and your hand-picked judge on the bench, your
hand-picked prosecuting-attorney putting through the job;
you are ready to send your victim to prison, for an ex-
ample to the rest of your employés. But suppose that, at
the climax of the proceedings, you should make the dis-
covery that your victim is a person who cannot be sent to
prison?”
“ Cannot be sent to prison?” repeated the other. His
tone was thoughtful. (You'll have to explain.”
“Surely not to a man of your intelligence! Don't
you know, Cotton, there are people who cannot be sent to
prison?”
The camp-marshal smoked his cigar for a bit. “ There
are some in this county,” said he. “But I thought I knew
them all.”
“Well,” said Hal, “has it never occurred to you that
there might be some in this state?”
There followed a long silence. The two men were gaz-
ing into each other's eyes; and the more they gazed, the
more plainly Hal read uncertainty in the face of the
marshal,
“Think how embarrassing it would be ! ” he continued.
“You have your drama all staged — as you did the night
before last — only on a larger stage, before a more impor-
tant audience; and at the dénou ement you find that, in-
stead of vindicating yourself before the workers in North
Valley, you have convicted yourself before the public of
the state. You have shown the whole community that you
are law-breakers; worse than that — you have shown that
you are jack-asses!”
This time the camp-marshal gazed so long that his cigar
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
155
suit of evene devil are you fal. “You boa Put them
went out. And meantime Hal was lounging in his chair,
smiling at him strangely. It was as if a transformation
was taking place before the marshal's eyes; the miner's
“jumpers” fell away from Hal's figure, and there was a
suit of evening-clothes in their place!
“Who the devil are you?” cried the man.
“Well now!” laughed Hal. “You boast of the effi-
ciency of your secret service department! Put them at
work upon this problem. A young man, age twenty-one,
height five feet ten inches, weight one hundred and fifty-
two pounds, eyes brown, hair chestnut and rather wavy,
manner genial, a favourite with the ladies — at least that's
what the society notes say — missing since early in June,
supposed to be hunting mountain-goats in Mexico. As
you know, Cotton, there's only one city in the state that
has any society,' and in that city there are only twenty-
five or thirty families that count. For a secret service de-
partment like that of the 'G. F. C.', that is really too
easy."
Again there was a silence, until Hal broke it. “Your
distress is a tribute to your insight. The company is lucky
in the fact that one of its camp-marshals happens to be an
ex-gentleman.”
Again the other flushed. “Well, by God!” he said,
half to himself; and then, making a last effort to hold his
bluff — “You're kidding me! »
"Kidding,' as you call it, is one of the favourite occu-
pations of society, Cotton. A good part of our intercourse
consists of it — at least among the younger set."
Suddenly the marshal rose. "Say, he demanded,
“ would you mind going back upstairs for a few min-
utes ?”
Hal could not restrain his laughter at this. “I should
mind it very much," he said. “I have been on a bread
and water diet for thirty-six hours, and I should like very
much to get out and have a breath of fresh air.”
156
KING COAL
“But," said the other, lamely, “ I've got to send you up
there."
“That's another matter," replied Hal. “If you send
me, I'll go, but it's your look-out. You've kept me here
without legal authority, with no charge against me, and
without«giving me an opportunity to see counsel. Un-
less I'm very much mistaken, you are liable criminally for
that, and the company is liable civilly. That is your own
affair, of course. I only want to make clear my position
---- when you ask me would I mind stepping upstairs, I.
answer that I would mind very much indeed."
The camp-marshal stood for a bit, chewing nervously
on his extinct cigar. Then he went to the door. “Hey,
Gus !” he called. Hal’s jailer appeared, and Cotton
whispered to him, and he went away again. “I'm telling
him to get you some food, and you can sit and eat it here.
Will that suit you better?”
“It depends," said Hal, making the most of the situa-
tion. “Are you inviting me as your prisoner, or as your
guest ?"
“Oh, come off !” said the other.
“But I have to know my legal status. It will be of im-
portance to my lawyers.”
“Be my guest," said the camp-marshal.
“But when a guest has eaten, he is free to go out, if he
wishes to!"
“I will let you know about that before you get through.”
“Well, be quick. I'm a rapid eater."
“ You'll promise you won't go away before that?”
“If I do," was Hal's laughing reply, “it will be only
to my place of business. You can look for me at the
tipple, Cotton!”
$ 21. The marshal went out, and a few moments later
the jailer came back, with a meal which presented a sur-
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
157
prising contrast to the ones he had previously served.
There was a tray containing cold ham, a couple of soft
boiled eggs, some potato salad, and a cup of coffee with
rolls and butter.
“Well, well!” said Hal, condescendingly. “That's
even nicer than beefsteak and mashed potatoes!” He sat
and watched, not offering to help, while the other made
room for the tray on the table in front of him. Then the
man stalked out, and Hal began to eat.
Before he had finished, the camp-marshal returned. He
seated himself in his revolving chair, and appeared to be
meditative. Between bites, Hal would look up and smile
at him.
“ Cotton,” said he, “ you know there is no more certain
test of breeding than table-manners. You will observe
that I have not tucked my napkin in my neck, as Alec
Stone would have done."
“I'm getting you," replied the marshal.
Hal set his knife and fork side by side on his plate.
“Your man has overlooked the finger-bowl,” he remarked.
“However, don't bother. You might ring for him now,
and let him take the tray.”
The camp-marshal used his voice for a bell, and the
jailer came. “Unfortunately,” said Hal, “when your
people were searching me, night before last, they dropped
my purse, so I have no tip for the waiter."
The “ waiter” glared at Hal as if he would like to bite
him; but the camp-marshal grinned. “ Clear out, Gus,
and shut the door,” said he.
Then Hal stretched his legs and made himself comfort-
able again. “I must say I like being your guest better
than being your prisoner!”
There was a pause.
“I've been talking it over with Mr. Cartwright," began
the marshal. “I've got no way of telling how much of
this is bluff that you've been giving me, but it's evident
158
KING COAL
enough that you're no miner. You may be some new-
fangled kind of agitator, but I'm damned if I ever saw an
agitator that had tea-party manners. I suppose you've
been brought up to money; but if that's so, why you want
to do this kind of thing is more than I can imagine."
“Tell me, Cotton," said Hal, "did you never hear of
ennui?"
“Yes," replied the other, “but aren't you rather young
to be troubled with that complaint?"
"Suppose I've seen others suffering from it, and wanted
to try a different way of living from theirs ?”
“If you're what you say, you ought to be still in col-
lege.”
"I go back for my senior year this fall.”
“What college ? ”
“ You doubt me still, I see! ” said Hal, and smiled.
Then, unexpectedly, with a spirit which only moonlit
campuses and privilege could beget, he chanted :
“Old King Coal was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
He made him a college, all full of knowledge —
Hurrah for you and me!”
“What college is that?" asked the marshal.
And Hal sang again:
“Oh, Liza-Ann, come out with me,
The moon is a-shinin' in the monkey-puzzle tree!
Oh, Liza-Ann, I have began
To sing you the song of Harrigan!”
“Well, well !" commented the marshal, when the con-
cert was over. “Are there many more like you at Harri-
gan?"
“A little group- enough to leaven the lump."
“ And this is your idea of a vacation ?”
“No, it isn't a vacation; it's a summer-course in prac-
tical sociology."
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
159
“Oh, I see!” said the marshal; and he smiled in spite
of himself.
“All last year we let the professors of political economy
hand out their theories to us. But somehow the theories
didn't seem to correspond with the facts. I said to my-
self, “I've got to check them up. You know the phrases,
perhaps — individualism, laissez faire, freedom of con-
tract, the right of every man to work for whom he pleases.
And here you see how the theories work out — a camp-
marshal with a cruel smile on his face and a gun on his hip,
breaking the laws faster than a governor can sign them.”
The camp-marshal decided 'suddenly that he had had
enough of this “tea-party.” He rose to his feet to cut
matters short. “If you don't mind, young man,” said he,
“ we'll get down to business ! "
§ 22. He took a turn about the room, then he came and
stopped in front of Hal. He stood with his hands thrust
into his pockets, with a certain jaunty grace that was out
of keeping with his occupation. He was a handsome
devil, Hal thought — in spite of his dangerous mouth, and
the marks of dissipation on him.
“Young man," he began, with another effort at geni-
ality. “I don't know who you are, but you're wide-
awake; you've got your nerve with you, and I admire you.
So I'm willing to call the thing off, and let you go back
and finish that course at college."
Hal had been studying the other's careful smile.
“ Cotton,” he said, at last, “let me get the proposition
clear. I don't have to say I took that money ? 1
“No, we'll let you off from that.”
“And you won't send me to the pen ?"
“No. I never meant to do that, of course. I was
only trying to bluff you. All I ask is that you clear out,
and give our people a chance to forget."
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KING COAL
“But what's there in that for me, Cotton? If I had
wanted to run away, I could have done it any time during
the last eight or ten weeks."
“ Yes, of course, but now it's different. Now it's a mat-
ter of my consideration."
“Cut out the consideration !” exclaimed Hal. “You
want to get rid of me, and you'd like to do it without
trouble. But you can't - so forget it.”
The other was staring, puzzled. “You mean you ex-
pect to stay here?”
“I mean just that.”
“ Young man, I've had enough of this! I've got no
more time to play. I don't care who you are, I don't care
about your threats. I'm the marshal of this camp, and I
have the job of keeping order in it. I say you're going to
get out!"
“But, Cotton," said Hal,“ this is an incorporated town!
I have a right to walk on the streets — exactly as much
right as you."
“I'm not going to waste time arguing. I'm going to
put you into an automobile and take you down to Pedro!”
“ And suppose I go to the District Attorney and de
mand that he prosecute you?”.
“ He'll laugh at you.”
“And suppose I go to the Governor of the state ?"
“He'll laugh still louder."
“ All right, Cotton; maybe you know what you're do-
ing; but I wonder - I wonder just how sure you feel.
Has it never occurred to you that your superiors might not
care to have you take these high-handed steps?”
“My superiors ? Who do you mean?”.
“ There's one man in the state you must respect —
even though you despise the District Attorney and the
Governor. That is Peter Harrigan.”
“Peter Harrigan?” echoed the other; and then he
burst into a laugh. “Well, you are a merry lad!”
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
161
Hal continued to study him, unmoved. “I wonder if
you're sure! He'll stand for everything you've done?”
“He will!” said the other.
“For the way you treat the workers ? He knows you
are giving short weights ?”
“Oh hell!” said the other. “Where do you suppose
he got the money for your college ? ”
There was a pause; at last the marshal asked, de-
fiantly, “ Have you got what you want?”
“Yes," replied Hal. “Of course, I thought it all
along, but it's hard to convince other people. Old Peter's
not like most of these Western wolves, you know; he's a
pious high-church man.”
The marshal smiled grimly. “ So long as there are
sheep," said he, “there'll be wolves in sheep's clothing.”
"I see," said Hal. “And you leave them to feed on
the lambs!"
"If any lamb is silly enough to be fooled by that old
worn-out skin,” remarked the marshal, “it deserves to
be eaten."
Hal was studying the cynical face in front of him.
“ Cotton," he said, “the shepherds are asleep; but the
watch-dogs are barking. Haven't you heard them?”
“I hadn't noticed."
« They are barking, barking! They are going to wake
the shepherds! They are going to save the sheep!”
“ Religion don't interest me," said the other, looking
bored; “ your kind any more than Old Peter's.”
And suddenly Hal rose to his feet. “Cotton," said he,
“ my place is with the flock! I'm going back to my job at
the tipple!" And he started towards the door.
he
$ 23. Jeff Cotton sprang forward. “Stop!”
cried.
But Hal did not stop.
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KING COAL
“See here, young man!” cried the marshal. “Don't
carry this joke too far!” And he sprang to the door, just
ahead of his prisoner. His hand moved toward his hip.
“Draw your gun, Cotton," said Hal; and, as the mar-
shal obeyed, “Now I will stop. If I obey you in future,
it will be at the point of your revolver.”
The marshal's mouth was dangerous-looking. “You
may find that in this country there's not so much between
the drawing of a gun and the firing of it!"
“I've explained my attitude," replied Hal. “What
are your or plained mand the
“Come back and sit in this chair.”
So Hal sat, and the marshal went to his desk, and took
up the telephone. “Number seven,” he said, and waited
a moment. “That you, Tom? Bring the car right
away.”
He hung up the receiver, and there followed a silence;
finally Hal inquired, “I'm going to Pedro ?”
There was no reply.
“I see I've got on your nerves," said Hal. “But I
don't suppose it's occurred to you that you deprived me of
my money last night. Also, I've an account with the
company, some money coming to me for my work? What
about that?”
The marshal took up the receiver and gave another
number. “Hello, Simpson. This is Cotton. Will you
figure out the time of Joe Smith, buddy in Number Two,
and send over the cash. Get his account at the store;
and be quick, we're waiting for it. He's going out in
a hurry.” Again he hung up the receiver.
« Tell me," said Hal, - did you take that trouble for
Mike Sikoria ?”
There was silence.
“Let me suggest that when you get my time, you give
me part of it in scrip. I want it for a souvenir.”
Still there was silence.
THE SERFS OF KING COAL 163
“You know," persisted the prisoner, tormentingly,
“there's a law against paying wages in scrip.”
The marshal was goaded to speech. “We don't pay in
scrip.”
"But you do, man! You know you do!”
“We give it when they ask their money ahead."
“ The law requires you to pay them twice a month, and
you don't do it. You pay them once a month, and mean-
time, if they need money, you give them this imitation
money!”
“Well, if it satisfies them, where's your kick?"
“If it doesn't satisfy them, you put them on the train
and ship them out?”
The marshal sat in silence, tapping impatiently with
his fingers on the desk.
“ Cotton," Hal began, again, “I'm out for education,
and there's something I'd like you to explain to me -
a problem in human psychology. When a man puts
through a deal like this, what does he tell himself about
it?"
“ Young man,” said the marshal, “ if you'll pardon me,
you are getting to be a bore."
“Oh, but we've got an automobile ride before us!
Surely we can't sit in silence all the way!” After a mo-
ment he added, in a coaxing tone, “I really want to learn,
you know. You might be able to win me over.”
“No!” said Cotton, promptly. “I'll not go in for
anything like that! "
But why not?”
“Because, I'm no match for you in long-windedness.
I've heard you agitators before, you're all alike: you think
the world is run by talk — but it isn't.”
Hal had come to realise that he was not getting any-
where in his duel with the camp-marshal. He had made
every effort to get somewhere; he had argued, threat-
ened, bluffed, he had even sung songs for the marshal !
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KING COAL
But the marshal was going to ship him out, that was all
there was to it.
Hal had gone on with the quarrel, simply because he
had to wait for the automobile, and because he had en-
dured indignities and had to vent his anger and disappoint-
ment. But now he stopped quarrelling suddenly. His at-
tention was caught by the marshal's words, “ You think the
world is run by talk!" Those were the words Hal's
brother always used! And also, the marshal had said,
“ You agitators!” For years it had been one of the
taunts Hal had heard from his brother, “You will turn
into one of these agitators !” Hal had answered, with
boyish obstinacy, “I don't care if I do!” And now, here
the marshal was calling him an agitator, seriously, with-
out an apology, without the license of blood relationship.
He repeated the words, “ That's what gets me about you
agitators - you come in here trying to stir these people
up "
So that was the way Hal seemed to the “G. F. C.”!
He had come here intending to be a spectator, to stand on
the deck of the steamer and look down into the ocean of
social misery. He had considered every step so carefully
before he took it! He had merely tried to be a check-
weighman, nothing more! He had told Tom Olson he
would not go in for unionism; he had had a distrust of
union organisers, of agitators of all sorts - blind, irre-
sponsible persons who went about stirring up dangerous
passions. He had come to admire Tom Olson — but that
had only partly removed his prejudices; Olson was only
one agitator, not the whole lot of them!
But all his consideration for the company had counted
for nothing; likewise all his efforts to convince the marshal
that he was a leisure-class person. In spite of all Hal's
“tea-party manners,” the marshal had said, “You agi-
tators!” What was he judging by, Hal wondered. Had
THE SERFS OF KING COAL 165
Y
he, Hal Warner, come to look like one of these blind, irre-
sponsible persons? It was time that he took stock of him-
self!
Had two months of " dirty work" in the bowels of the
earth changed him so ? The idea was bound to be dis-
concerting to one who had been a favourite of the ladies!
Did he talk like it? — he who had been “kissing the
Blarney-stone!” The marshal had said he was “long-
winded!” Well, to be sure, he had talked a lot; but
what could the man expect -- having shut him up in jail
for two nights and a day, with only his grievances to brood
over! Was that the way real agitators were made — be-
ing shut up with grievances to brood over?
Hal recalled his broodings in the jail. He had been
embittered; he had not cared whether North Valley was
dominated by labour unions. But that had all been a
mood, the same as his answer to his brother; that was
jail psychology, a part of his summer course in practical
sociology. He had put it aside; but apparently it had
made a deeper impression upon him than he had realised.
It had changed his physical aspect! It had made him
look and talk like an agitator! It had made him “irre-
sponsible," “ blind!”
Yes, that was it! All this dirt, ignorance, disease, this
knavery and oppression, this maiming of men in body and
soul in the coal-camps of America - all this did not ex-
ist — it was the hallucination of an “irresponsible”
brain! There was the evidence of Hal's brother and the
camp-marshal to prove it; there was the evidence of the
whole world to prove it! The camp-marshal and his
brother and the whole world could not be “blind!” And
if you talked to them about these conditions, they shrugged
their shoulders, they called you a “dreamer," a "crank,"
they said you were “ off your trolley”; or else they became
angry and bitter, they called you names; they said, “You
agitators!”
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de to shirk and rock and with booze:
a go off to hit fight fairns with you
§ 24. The camp-marshal of North Valley had been
“agitated” to such an extent that he could not stay in his
chair. All the harassments of his troubled career had
come pouring into his mind. He had begun pacing the
floor, and was talking away, regardless of whether Hal
listened or not.
“A campful of lousy wops! They can't understand
any civilised language, they've only one idea in the world
- to shirk every lick of work they can, to fill up their
cars with slate and rock and blame it on some other fellow,
and go off to fill themselves with booze. They won't work
fair, they won't fight fair — they fight with a knife in the
back! And you agitators with your sympathy for them
-- why the hell do they come to this country, unless they
like it better than their own?"
Hal had heard this question before; but they had to
wait for the automobile -- and being sure that he was an
agitator now, he would make all the trouble he could!
“The reason is obvious enough,” he said. “Isn't it true
that the G. F. C.' employs agents abroad to tell them of
the wonderful pay they get in America ? "
“Well, they get it, don't they? Three times what they
ever got at home!”
“Yes, but it doesn't do them any good. There's an-
other fact which the 'G. F. C.' doesn't mention that
the cost of living is even higher than the wages. Then,
too, they're led to think of America as a land of liberty;
they come, hoping for a better chance for themselves and
their children; but they find a camp-marshal who's off in
his geography -- who thinks the Rocky Mountains are
somewhere in Russia !”
“I know that line of talk!” exclaimed the other. “I
learned to wave the starry flag when I was a kid. But I
tell you, you've got to get coal mined, and it isn't the same
thing as running a Fourth of July celebration. Some
church people make a law they shan't work on Sunday —
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167
and what comes of that? They have thirty-six hours to
get soused in, and so they can't work on Monday!”
“Surely there's a remedy, Cotton! Suppose the coni-
pany refused to rent buildings to saloon-keepers ? ”
"Good God! You think we haven't tried it? They go
down to Pedro for the stuff, and bring back all they can
carry — inside them and out. And if we stop that -
then our hands move to some other camps, where they can
spend their money as they please. No, young man, when
you have such cattle, you have to drive them! And it
takes a strong hand to do it -- a man like Peter Harrigan.
If there's to be any coal, if industry's to go on, if there's
to be any progress --"
“We have that in our song!” laughed Hal, breaking
into the camp-marshal's discourse -
“He keeps them a-roll, that merry old soul -
The wheels of industree;
A-roll and a-roll, for his pipe and his bowl
And his college facultee!”
“ Yes," growled the marshal. “It's easy enough for
you smart young chaps to make verses, while you're living
at ease on the old man's bounty. But that don't answer
any argument. Are you college boys ready to take over
his job? Or these Democrat politicians that come in here,
talking fool-talk about liberty, making labour laws for
these wops."
“I begin to understand,” said Hal. “You object to
the politicians who pass the laws, you doubt their motives
- and so you refuse to obey. But why didn't you tell me
sooner you were an anarchist ?”
“ Anarchist ?” cried the marshal. “Me an anar-
chist ?"
“ That's what an anarchist is, isn't it?"
“Good God! If that isn't the limit! You come here,
stirring up the men - a union agitator, or whatever you
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KING COAL
are --- and you know that the first idea of these people,
when they do break loose, is to put dynamite in the shafts
and set fire to the buildings !”
“Do they do that?” There was surprise in Hal's tone.
“ Haven't you read what they did in the last big strike ?
That dough-faced old preacher, John Edstrom, could tell
you. He was one of the bunch."
“No,” said Hal, "you're mistaken. Edstrom has a
different philosophy. But others did, I've no doubt.
And since I've been here, I can understand their point of
view entirely. When they set fire to the buildings, it was
because they thought you and Alec Stone might be inside.”
The marshal did not smile.
“ They want to destroy the properties," continued Hal,
“ because that's the only way they can think of to punish
the tyranny and greed of the owners. But, Cotton, sup-
pose some one were to put a new idea into their heads;
suppose some one were to say to them, “Don't destroy
the properties — take them!'"
The other stared. “Take them! So that's your idea
of morality!”
“It would be more moral than the method by which
Peter got them in the beginning."
“What method is that?” demanded the marshal, with
some appearance of indignation. “He paid the market-
price for them, didn't he?".
“He paid the market-price for politicians. Up in
Western City I happen to know a lady who was a school-
commissioner when he was buying school-lands from the
state – lands that were known to contain coal. He was
paying three dollars an acre, and everybody knew they
were worth three thousand.”
“Well,” said Cotton, “if you don't buy the politicians,
you wake up some fine morning and find that somebody
else has bought them. If you have property, you have to
protect it."
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
169
“ Cotton," said Hal, “ you sell Old Peter your time -
but surely you might keep part of your brains! Enough
to look at your monthly pay-check and realise that you too
are a wage-slave, not much better than the miners you
despise."
The other smiled. “My check might be bigger, I ad-
mit; but I've figured over it, and I think I have an easier
stay on top.”
"Well, Cotton, on that view of life, I don't wonder you
get drunk now and then. A dog-fight, with no faith or
humanity anywhere! Don't think I'm sneering at you —
I'm talking out of my heart to you. I'm not so young, nor
such a fool, that I haven't had the dog-fight aspect of
things brought to my attention. But there's something in
a fellow that insists he isn't all dog; he has at least a possi-
bility of something better. Take these poor under-dogs
sweating inside the mountain, risking their lives every
hour of the day and night to provide you and me with coal
to keep us warm — to keep the wheels of industry
a-roll '-"
§ 25. These were the last words Hal spoke. They
were obvious enough words, yet when he looked back upon
the coincidence, it seemed to him a singular one. For
while he was sitting there chatting, it happened that the
poor under-dogs inside the mountain were in the midst of
one of those experiences which make the romance and
terror of coal-mining. One of the boys who were em-
ployed underground, in violation of the child labour law,
was in the act of bungling his task. He was a “sprag-
ger," whose duty it was to thrust a stick into the wheel of
à loaded car to hold it; and he was a little chap, and
the car was in motion when he made the attempt. It
knocked him against the wall — and so there was a load
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KING COAL
of coal rolling down grade, pursued too late by half a dozen
men. Gathering momentum, it whirled round a curve
and flew from the track, crashing into timbers and knock-
ing them loose. With the timbers came a shower of coal-
dust, accumulated for decades in these old workings; and
at the same time came an electric light wire, which, as it
touched the car, produced a spark.
And so it was that Hal, chatting with the marshal, sud-
denly felt, rather than heard, a deafening roar; he felt the
air about him turn into a living thing which struck him a
mighty blow, hurling him flat upon the floor. The win-
dows of the room crashed inward upon him in a shower of
glass, and the plaster of the ceiling came down on his head
in another shower.
When he raised himself, half stunned, he saw the mar-
shal, also on the floor; these two conversationalists stared
at each other with horrified eyes. Even as they crouched,
there came a crash above their heads, and half the ceiling
of the room came toward them, with a great piece of timber
sticking through. All about them were other crashes, as
if the end of the world had come.
They struggled to their feet, and rushing to the door,
flung it open, just as a jagged piece of timber shattered
the side-walk in front of them. They sprang back again.
“ Into the cellar!” cried the marshal, leading the way to
the back-stairs.
But before they had started down these stairs, they
realised that the crashing bad ceased. “What is it?”
gasped Hal, as they stood.
Mine-explosion," said the other; and after a few
seconds they ran to the door again.
The first thing they saw was a vast pillar of dust and
smoke, rising into the sky above them. It spread before
their dazed eyes, until it made night of everything about
them. There was still a rain of lighter debris pattering
down over the village; as they stared, and got their wits
THE SERFS OF KING COAL 171
about them, remembering how things had looked before
this, they realised that the shaft-house of Number One had
disappeared.
“Blown up, by God!” cried the marshal; and the two
ran out into the street, and looking up, saw that a portion
of the wrecked building had fallen through the roof of the
jail above their heads.
The rain of debris had now ceased, but there were clouds
of dust which covered the two men black; the clouds grew
worse, until they could hardly see their way at all. And
with the darkness there fell silence, which, after the
sound of the explosion and the crashing of debris, seemed
the silence of death.
For a few moments Hal stood dazed. He saw a stream
of men and boys pouring from the breaker; while from
every street there appeared a stream of women; women
old, women young “ leaving their cooking on the stove,
their babies in the crib, with their older children scream-
ing at their skirts, they gathered in swarms about the pit-
mouth, which was like the steaming crater of a volcano.
Cartwright, the superintendent, appeared, running to
ward the fan-house. Cotton joined him, and Hal fol-
lowed. The fan-house was a wreck, the giant fan lying
on the ground a hundred feet away, its blades smashed.
Hal was too inexperienced in mine-matters to get the full
significance of this, but he saw the marshal and the super-
· intendent stare blankly at each other, and heard the
former's exclamation, “That does for us!” Cartwright
said not a word; but his thin lips were pressed together,
and there was fear in his eyes.
Back to the smoking pit-mouth the two men hurried,
with Hal following. Here were a hundred, two hundred
women crowded, clamouring questions all at once. They
swarmed about the marshal, the superintendent, the other
bosses — even about Hal, crying hysterically in Polish
and Bohemian and Greek. When Hal shook his head, in-
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KING COAL
dicating that he did not understand them, they moaned in
anguish, or shrieked aloud. Some continued to stare into
the smoking pit-mouth; others covered the sight from their
eyes, or sank down upon their knees, sobbing, praying with
uplifted hands.
Little by little Hal began to realise the full horror of a
mine-disaster. It was not noise and smoke and darkness,
nor frantic, wailing women; it was not anything above
ground, but what was below in the smoking black pit! It
was men! Men whom Hal knew, whom he had worked
with and joked with, whose smiles he had shared, whose
daily life he had come to know! Scores, possibly hun-
dreds of them, they were down here under his feet -
some dead, others injured, maimed. What would they
do? What would those on the surface do for them? Hal
tried to get to Cotton, to ask him questions; but the camp-
marshal was surrounded, besieged. He was pushing the
women back, exclaiming, “ Go away! Go home!”
What? Go home? they cried. When their men were
in the mine? They crowded about him closer, imploring,
shrieking.
“Get out!” he kept exclaiming. “There's nothing
you can do! There's nothing anybody can do yet! Go
home! Go home!” He had to beat them back by force,
to keep them from pushing one another into the pit-
mouth.
Everywhere Hal looked were women in attitudes of
grief: standing rigid, staring ahead of them as if in a
trance; sitting down, rocking to and fro; on their knees
with faces uplifted in prayer; clutching their terrified
children about their skirts. He saw an Austrian woman,
a pitiful, pale young thing with a ragged grey shawl about
her head, stretching out her hands and crying: “Mein
Mann! Mein Mann!” Presently she covered her face,
and her voice died into a wail of despair: “O, mein
Mann! O, mein Mann!” She turned away, staggering
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
173
about like some creature that has received a death wound.
Hal's eyes followed her; her cry, repeated over and over
incessantly, became the leit-motif of this symphony of
horror.
He had read about mine-disasters in his morning news-
paper; but here a mine-disaster became a thing of human
flesh and blood. The unendurable part of it was the
utter impotence of himself and of all the world. This
impotence became clearer to him each moment - from the
exclamations of Cotton and of the men he questioned. It
was monstrous, incredible - but it was so! They must
send for a new fan, they must wait for it to be brought in,
they must set it up and get it into operation; they must
wait for hours after that while smoke and gas were cleared
out of the main passages of the mine; and until this had
been done, there was nothing they could do absolutely
nothing! The men inside the mine would stay. Those
who had not been killed outright would make their way
into the remoter chambers, and barricade themselves
against the deadly “after damp.” They would wait,
without food or water, with air of doubtful quality -
they would wait and wait, until the rescue-crew could get
to them!
An in that bid Rafferty is one of the Hal
and at Zamiero little maat,
from more menumber the knew. hac
§ 26. At moments in the midst of this confusion, Hal
found himself trying to recall who had worked in Number
One, among the people he knew. He himself had been
employed in Number Two, so he had naturally come to
know more men in that mine. But he had known some
from the other mine — Old Rafferty for one, and Mary
Burke's father for another, and at least one of the mem-
bers of his check-weighman group — Zamierowski. Hal
saw in a sudden vision the face of this patient little man,
who smiled so good-naturedly while Americans were try-
ing to say his name. And Old Rafferty, with all his little
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KING COAL
Rafferties, and his piteous efforts to keep the favour of his
employers! And poor Patrick Burke, whom Hal had
never seen sober; doubtless he was sober now, if he was
still alive!
Then in the crowd Hal encountered Jerry Minetti, and
learned that another man who had been down was Faren-
zena, the Italian whose “ fanciulla ” had played with
him; and yet another was Judas Apostolikas — having
taken his thirty pieces of silver with him into the death-
trap!
People were making up lists, just as Hal was doing, by
asking questions of others. These lists were subject to
revision -- sometimes under dramatic circumstances.
You saw a woman weeping, with her apron to her eyes;
suddenly she would look up, give a piercing cry, and fling
her arms about the neck of some man. As for Hal, he
felt as if he were encountering a ghost when suddenly he
recognised Patrick Burke, standing in the midst of a group
of people. He went over and heard the old man's story
- how there was a Dago fellow who had stolen his.timbers,
and he had come up to the surface for more; so his life
had been saved, while the timber-thief was down there
still -- a judgment of Providence upon mine-miscreants !
Presently Hal asked if Burke had been to tell his
family. He had run home, he said, but there was no-
body there. So Hal began pushing his way through the
throngs, looking for Mary, or her sister Jennie, or her
brother Tommie. He persisted in this search, although
it occurred to him to wonder whether the family of a hope-
less drunkard would appreciate the interposition of Provi-
dence in his behalf.
He encountered Olson, who had had a narrow escape,
being employed as a surface-man near the hoist. All this
was an old story to the organiser, who had worked in
mines since he was eight years old, and had seen many
kinds of disaster. He began to explain things to Hal, in
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
175
a matter of fact way. The law required a certain num-
ber of openings to every mine, also an escape-way with
ladders by which men could come out; but it cost good
money to dig holes in the ground.
At this time the immediate cause of the explosion was
unknown, but they could tell it was a “dust explosion"
by the clouds of coke-dust, and no one who had been into
the mine and seen its dry condition would doubt what they
would find when they went down and traced out the
“force” and its effects. They were supposed to do regu-
lar sprinkling, but in such matters the bosses used their
own judgment.
Hal was only half listening to these explanations. The
thing was too raw and too horrible to him. What differ-
ence did it make whose fault it was? The accident had
happened, and the question was now how to meet the
emergency! Underneath Olson's sentences he heard the
cry of men and boys being asphyxiated in dark dungeons
- he heard the wailing of women, like a surf beating on a
distant shore, or the faint, persistent accompaniment of
muted strings: “O, mein Mann! O, mein Mann!”
They came upon Jeff Cotton again. With half a dozen
men to help him, he was pushing back the crowd from the
pit-mouth, and stretching barbed wired to hold them back.
He was none too gentle about it, Hal thought; but doubt-
less women are provoking when they are hysterical. He
was answering their frenzied questions, “Yes, yes!
We're getting a new fan. We're doing everything we can,
I tell you. We'll get them out. Go home and wait.”
. But of course no one would go home. How could a
woman sit in her house, or go about her ordinary tasks of
cooking or washing, while her man might be suffering
asphyxiation under the ground? The least she could do
was to stand at the pit-mouth — as near to him as she
could get! Some of them stood motionless, hour after
hour, while others wandered through the village streets,
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asking the same people, over and over again, if they had
seen their loved ones. Several bad turned up, like Pat-
rick Burke; there seemed always a chance for one more.
$ 27. In the course of the afternoon Hal came upon
Mary Burke on the street. She had long ago found her
father, and seen him off to O'Callahan's to celebrate the
favours of Providence. Now Mary was concerned with a
graver matter. Number Two Mine was in danger! The
explosion in Number One had been so violent that the
gearing of the fan of the other mine, nearly a mile up the
canyon, had been thrown out of order. So the fan had
stopped ; and when some one had gone to Alec Stone, ask-
ing that he bring out the men, Stone had refused. “What
do ye think he said ?” cried Mary. “What do ye think?
. Damn the men! Save the mules !”»
Hal had all but lost sight of the fact that there was a
second mine in the village, in which hundreds of men and
boys were still at work. “Wouldn't they know about the
explosion?” he asked.
They might have heard the noise," said Mary. “But
they'd not know what it was; and the bosses won't tell
them till they've got out the mules."
For all that he had seen in North Valley, Hal could
hardly credit that story. “How do you know it, Mary?”
“ Young Rovetta just told me. He was there, and
heard it with his own ears."
He was staring at her. “Let's go and make sure,” he
said, and they started up the main street of the village.
On the way they were joined by others — for already the
news of this fresh trouble had begun to spread. Jeff Cot-
ton went past them in an automobile, and Mary ex-
claimed, “I told ye so! When ye see him goin', ye know
there's dirty work to be done! ”
They came to the shaft-house of Number Two, and
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
177
found a swarm of people, almost a riot. Women and
children were shrieking and gesticulating, threatening to
break into the office and use the mine-telephone to warn
the men themselves. And here was the camp-marshal
driving them back. Hal and Mary arrived in time to see
Mrs. David, whose husband was at work in Number Two,
shaking her fist in the marshal's face and screaming at him
like a wild-cat. He drew his revolver upon her; and at
this Hal started forward. A blind fury seized him — he
would have thrown himself upon the marshal.
But Mary Burke stopped him, flinging her arms about
him, and pinning him by main force. “No, no!” she
cried. “Stay back, man! D’ye want to get killed ?”
He was amazed at her strength. He was amazed also
at the vehemence of her emotion. She was calling him a
crazy fool, and names even more harsh. “Have ye no
more sense than a woman? Running into the mouth of a
revolver like that!”
The crisis passed in a moment, for Mrs. David fell
back, and then the marshal put up his weapon. But Mary
continued scolding Hal, trying to drag him away. “ Come
on now! Come out of here!”
“But, Mary! We must do something !”
“Ye can do nothin', I tell ye! Ye'd ought to have
sense enough to know it. I'll not let ye get yeself mur-
dered! Come away now!” And half by force and half
by cajoling, she got him farther down the street.
He was trying to think out the situation. Were the
men in Number Two really in danger ? Could it be pos-
sible that the bosses would take such a chance in cold
blood? And right at this moment, with the disaster in
the other mine before their eyes! He could not believe
it; and meantime Mary, at his side, was declaring that the
men were in no real danger -- it was only Alec Stone's
brutal words that had set her crazy.
“Don't ye remember the time when the air-course was
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blocked before, and ye helped to get up the mules geself?
Ye thought nothin' of it then, and 'tis the same now.
They'll get everybody out in time!”.
She was concealing her real feelings in order to keep
him safe; he let her lead him on, while he tried to think
of something else to do. He would think of the men in
Number Two; they were his best friends, Jack David, Tim
Rafferty, Wresmak, Androkulos, Klowoski. He would
think of them, in their remote dungeons -- breathing bad
air, becoming sick and faint - in order that mules might
be saved! He would stop in his tracks, and Mary would
drag him on, repeating over and over, “ Ye can do nothin'!
Nothin'!” And then he would think, What could he do?
He had put up his best bluff to Jeff Cotton a few hours
earlier, and the answer had been the muzzle of the mar-
shal's revolver in his face. All he could accomplish now
would be to bring himself to Cotton's attention, and be
thrust out of camp forthwith.
§ 28. They came to Mary's home; and next door was
the home of the Slav woman, Mrs. Zamboni, about whom
in the past she had told him so many funny stories.
Mrs. Zamboni had had a new baby every year for sixteen
years, and eleven of these babies were still alive. Now
her husband was trapped in Number One, and she was
distracted, wandering about the streets with the greater
part of her brood at her heels. At intervals she would
emit a howl like a tortured animal, and her brood would
take it up in various timbres. Hal stopped to listen to
the sounds, but Mary put her fingers into her ears and fled
into the house. Hal followed her, and saw her fling her-
self into a chair and burst into hysterical weeping. And
suddenly Hal realised what a strain this terrible affair had
been upon Mary. It had been bad enough to him - but
he was a man, and more able to contemplate sights of
1
S
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
179
10 women must and desolate striure, with its
horror. Men went to their deaths in industry and war,
and other men saw them go and inured themselves to the
spectacle. But women were the mothers of these men; it
was women who bore them in pain, nursed them and
reared them with endless patience — women could never
become inured to the spectacle! Then too, the women's
fate was worse. If the men were dead, that was the end
of them; but the women must face the future, with its
bitter memories, its lonely and desolate struggle for ex-
istence. The women must see the children suffering,
dying by slow stages of deprivation.
Hal's pity for all suffering women became concentrated
upon the girl beside him. He knew how tenderhearted
she was. She had no man in the mine, but some day she
would have, and she was suffering the pangs of that in-
exorable future. He looked at her, huddled in her chair,
wiping away her tears with the hem of her old blue calico.
She seemed unspeakably pathetic — like a child that has
been hurt. She was sobbing out sentences now and then,
as if to herself: “Oh, the poor women, the poor women!
Did ye see the face of Mrs. Nonotch? She'd jumped into
the smoking pit-mouth if they'd let her!”
“Don't suffer so, Mary!” pleaded Hal — as if he
thought she could stop.
“Let me alone!” she cried. “Let me have it out!”
And Hal, who had had no experience with hysteria, stood
helplessly by.
“There's more misery than I ever knew there was!"
she went on. “'Tis everywhere ye turn, a woman with
her eyes burnin' with sufferin', wondering if she'll ever
see her man again! Or some mother whose lad may be
dying and she can do nothin' for him!”
“And neither can you do anything, Mary," Hal pleaded
again. “You're only sorrowing yourself to death."
“Ye say that to me?" she cried. “And when ye were
ready to let Jeff Cotton shoot ye, because you were so sorry
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KING COAL
for Mrs. David! No, the sights here nobody can stand.”
He could think of nothing to answer. He drew up a
chair and sat by her in silence, and after a while she began
to grow calmer, and wiped away her tears, and sat gazing
dully through the doorway into the dirty little street.
Hal's eyes followed hers. There were the ash-heaps and
tomato-cans, there were two of Mrs. Zamboni's bedraggled
brood, poking with sticks into a dump-heap -- looking for
something to eat, perhaps, or for something to play with.
There was the dry, waste grass of the road-side, grimy with
coal-dust, as was everything else in the village. Whát a
scene! — And this girl's eyes had never a sight of any.
thing more inspiring than this. Day in and day out, all
her life long, she looked at this scene! Had he ever for a
moment reproached her for her “black moods”? With
such an environment could men or women be cheerful —
could they dream of beauty, aspire to heights of nobility
and courage, to happy service of their fellows? There
was a miasma of despair over this place; it was not a
real place — it was a dream-place — a horrible, dis-
torted nightmare! It was like the black hole in the
ground which haunted Hal's imagination, with men and
boys at the bottom of it, dying of asphyxiation!
Suddenly it came to Hal — he wanted to get away from
North Valley! To get away at all costs! The place had
worn down his courage; slowly, day after day, the sight of
misery and want, of dirt and disease, of hunger, oppres-
sion, despair, had eaten the soul out of him, had under-
mined his fine structure of altruistic theories. Yes, he
wanted to escape – to a place where the sun shone, where
the grass grew green, where human beings stood erect and
laughed and were free. He wanted to shut from his eyes
the dust and smoke of this nasty little village; to stop his
ears to that tormenting sound of women wailing: “O,
mein Mann! O, mein Mann!”
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
181
He looked at the girl, who sat staring before her, bent
forward, her arms hanging limply over her knees.
“Mary,” he said, “ you must go away from here! It's
no place for a tenderhearted girl to be. It's no place for
any one!”
She gazed at him dully for a moment. “It was me that
was tellin' you to go away,” she said, at last. “Ever
since ye came here I been sayin' it! Now I guess ye know
what I mean."
“Yes," he said, “I do, and I want to go. But I want
you to go too.”
“D'ye think 'twould do me any good, Joe?" she asked.
“D'ye think 'twould do me any good to get away? Could
I ever forget the sights I've seen this day? Could I ever
have any real, honest happiness anywhere after this ? ”
He tried to reassure her, but he was far from reassured
himself. How would it be with him? Would he ever
feel that he had a right to happiness after this ? Could he
take any satisfaction in a pleasant and comfortable world,
knowing that it was based upon such hideous misery?
His thoughts went to that world, where careless, pleasure-
loving people sought gratification of their desires. It
came to him suddenly that what he wanted more than to
get away was to bring those people here, if only for a day,
for an hour, that they might hear this chorus of wailing
women!
§ 29. Mary made Hal swear that he would not get into
a fight with Cotton; then they went to Number Two.
They found the mules coming up, and the bosses promising
that in a short while the men would be coming. Every-
thing was all right - there was not a bit of danger!
But Mary was afraid to trust Hal, in spite of his promise,
so she lured him back to Number One.
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KING COAL
They found that a rescue-car had just arrived from
Pedro, bringing doctors and nurses, also several “hel-
mets." These “helmets” were strange looking contriv-
ances, fastened over the head and shoulders, air-tight, and
provided with oxygen sufficient to last for an hour or more.
The men who wore them sat in a big bucket which was let
down the shaft with a windlass, and every now and then
they pulled on a signal-cord to let those on the surface know
they were alive. When the first of them came back, he
reported that there were bodies near the foot of the shaft,
but apparently all dead. There was heavy black smoke,
indicating a fire somewhere in the mine; so nothing more
could be done until the fan had been set up. By reversing
the fan, they could draw out the smoke and gases and clear
the shaft.
The state mine-inspector had been notified, but was ill
at home, and was sending one of his deputies. Under the
law this official would have charge of all the rescue work,
but Hal found that the miners took no interest in his pres-
ence. It had been his duty to prevent the accident, and
he had not done so. When he came, he would do what
the company wanted.
Some time after dark the workers began to come out of
Number Two, and their women, waiting at the pit-mouth,
fell upon their necks with cries of thankfulness. Hal ob-
served other women, whose men were in Number One, and
would perhaps never come out again, standing and watch-
ing these greetings with wistful, tear-filled eyes. Among
those who came out was Jack David, and Hal walked home
with him and his wife, listening to the latter abuse Jeff
Cotton and Alec Stone, which was an education in the vo-
cabulary of class-consciousness. The little Welsh woman
repeated the pit-boss's saying, “Damn the men, save the
mules !” She said it again and again - it seemed to
delight her like a work of art, it summed up so perfectly
the attitude of the bosses to their men! There were many
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
183
other people repeating that saying, Hal found; it went all
over the village, in a few days it went all over the district.
It summed up what the district believed to be the attitude
of the coal-operators to the workers !
Having got over the first shock of the disaster, Hal
wanted information, and he questioned Big Jack, a solid
and well-read man who had given thought to every aspect
of the industry. In his quiet, slow way, he explained to
Hal that the frequency of accidents in this district was not
due to any special difficulty in operating these mines, the
explosiveness of the gases or the dryness of the atmosphere.
It was merely the carelessness of those in charge, their
disregard of the laws for the protection of the men. There
ought to be a law with “ teeth" in it for example, one
providing that for every man killed in a coal-mine his
heirs should receive a thousand dollars, regardless of who
had been to blame for the accident. Then you would see
how quickly the operators would get busy and find reme
dies for the “unusual” dangers !
As it was, they knew that no matter how great their
culpability, they could get off with slight loss. Already,
no doubt, their lawyers were on the spot, and by the time
the first bodies were brought out, they would be fixing
things up with the families. They would offer a widow
a ticket back to the old country; they would offer a whole
family of orphaned children, maybe fifty dollars, maybe
a hundred dollars — and it would be a case of take it or
leave it. You could get nothing from the courts; the case
was so hopeless that you could not even find a lawyer to
make the attempt. That was one reform in which the
companies believed, said “Big Jack," with sarcasm; they
had put the “shyster lawyer” out of business!
$ 30. There followed a night and then another day of
torturing suspense. The fan came, but it had to be set up
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KING COAL
before anything could be done. As volumes of black smoke
continued to pour from the shaft, the opening was made
tight with a board and canvas cover; it was necessary, the
bosses said, but to Hal it seemed the climax of horror. To
seal up men and boys in a place of deadly gases !
There was something peculiarly torturing in the idea
of men caught in a mine; they were directly under one's
feet, yet it was impossible to get to them, to communicate
with them in any way! The people on top yearned to
them, and they, down below, yearned back. It was im-
possible to forget them for even a few minutes. People
would become abstracted while they talked, and would
stand staring into space; suddenly, in the midst of a
crowd, a woman would bury her face in her hands and
burst into tears, and then all the others would follow suit.
Few people slept in North Valley during those two
nights. They held mourning parties in their homes or on
the streets. Some house-work had to be done, of course,
but no one did anything that could be left undone. The
children would not play; they stood about, silent, pale, like
wizened-up grown people, over-mature in knowledge of
trouble. The nerves of every one were on edge, the self-
control of every one balanced upon a fine point. .
It was a situation bound to be fruitful in imaginings and
rumours, stimulated to those inclined to signs and omens
- the seers of ghosts, or those who went into trances, or
possessed second sight or other mysterious gifts. There
were some living in a remote part of the village who de-
clared they had heard explosions under the ground, several
blasts in quick succession. The men underground were
setting off dynamite by way of signalling!
In the course of the second day Hal sat with Mary
Burke upon the steps of her home. Old Patrick lay
within, having found the secret of oblivion at O’Callahan's.
Now and then came the moaning of Mrs. Zamboni, who
was in her cabin with her brood of children. Mary had
Wizenes would anythino Work hotles in 7
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
185
been in to feed them, because the distracted mother let them
starve and cry. Mary was worn out, herself; the won-
derful Irish complexion had faded, and there were no
curves to the vivid lips. They had been sitting in silence,
for there was nothing to talk of but the disaster — and
they had said all there was to say about that. But Hal
had been thinking while he watched Mary.
“Listen, Mary,” he said, at last; “ when this thing is
over, you must really come away from here. I've thought
it all out — I have friends in Western City who will give
you work, so you can take care of yourself, and of your
brother and sister too. Will you go?”
But she did not answer. She continued to gaze indif-
ferently into the dirty little street.
“Truly, Mary," he went on. « Life isn't so terrible
everywhere as it is here. Come away! Hard as it is to
believe, you'll forget all this. People suffer, but then they
stop suffering; it's nature's way - to make them forget.”
“Nature's way has been to beat me dead," said she.
“Yes, Mary. Despair can become a disease, but it
hasn't with you. You're just tired out. If you'll try to
rouse yourself ” And he reached over and caught her
hand with an attempt at playfulness. “Cheer up, Mary!
You're coming away from North Valley."
She turned and looked at him. “Am I?" she asked,
impassively; and she went on studying his face. “Who
are ye, Joe Smith? What are ye doin' here?”
“Working in a coal-mine," he laughed, still trying to
divert her.
But she went on, as gravely as before. “Ye're no work-
ing man, that I know. And ye're always offering me
help! Ye're always sayin' what ye can do for me!”
She paused and there came some of the old defiance into
her face. “Joe, ye can have no idea of the feelin's that
have got hold of me just now. I'm ready to do something
desperate; ye'd best be leavin' me alone, Joe!”
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KING COAL
“I think I understand, Mary. I would hardly blame
you for anything you did.”
She took up his words eagerly. “Wouldn't ye, Joe?
Ye're sure? Then what I want is to get the truth from
ye. I want ye to talk it out fair!”.
“ All right, Mary. What is it?"
But her defiance had vanished suddenly. Her eyes
dropped, and he saw her fingers picking nervously at a
fold of her dress. “About us, Joe,” she said. “I've
thought sometimes ye cared for me. I've thought ye liked
to be with me -- not just because ye were sorry for me,
but because of me. I've not been sure, but I can't help
thinkin' it's so. Is it?"
“Yes, it is,” he said, a little uncertainly. “I do care
for you."
“Then is it that ye don't care for that other girl all the
time?"
“No," he said, “it's not that."
“Ye can care for two girls at the same time?"
He did not know what to say. “It would seem that
I can, Mary.”
She raised her eyes again and studied his face. “Ye
told me about that other girl, and I been wonderin', was
it only to put me off? Maybe it's me own fault, but I
can't make meself believe in that other girl, Joe! ”
“You're mistaken, Mary," he answered, quickly.
" What I told you was true.”
“Well, maybe so," she said, but there was no conviction
in her tone. “Ye come away from her, and ye never
go where she is or see her — it's hard to believe ye’d
do that way if ye were very close to her. I just don't
think ye love her as much as ye might. And ye say you
do care some for me. So I've thought --- I've won-
dered -"
She stopped, forcing herself to meet his gaze: "I been
1
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
187
0
tryin' to work it out! I know ye're too good a man for
me, Joe. Ye come from a better place in life, ye've a
right to expect more in a woman -
"It's not that, Mary!”
But she cut him short. “I know that's true! Ye're
only tryin' to save my feelin's. I know ye're better than
me! I've tried hard to hold me head up, I've tried a long
time not to let meself go to pieces. I've even tried to keep
cheerful, telling meself I'd not want to be like Mrs. Zam-
boni, forever complainin'. But 'tis no use tellin' yourself
lies! I been up to the church, and heard the Reverend
Spragg tell the people that the rich and poor are the same
in the sight of the Lord. And maybe 'tis so, but I'm not
the Lord, and I'll never pretend I'm not ashamed to be
livin' in a place like this."
“I'm sure the Lord has no interest in keeping you
here --" he began.
But she broke in, “ What makes it so hard to bear is
knowin' there's so many wonderful things in the world,
and ye can never have them! 'Tis as if ye had to see them
through a pane of glass, like in the window of a store.
Just think, Joe Smith — once, in a church in Sheridan, I
heard a lady sing beautiful music; once in my whole life-
time! Can ye guess what it meant to me?"
“ Yes, Mary, I can."
“But I had that all out with meself — years ago. I
knew the price a workin' girl has to pay for such things,
and I said, I'll not let meself think about them. I've
hated this place, I've wanted to get away -- but there's
only one way to go, to let some man take ye! So I've
stayed; I've kept straight, Joe. I want ye to believe
that.”
“Of course, Mary!”
“No! It's not been 'of course?! It means ye have to
fight with temptations. It's many a time I've looked at
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for a momen in the world a woman
Jeff Cotton, and thought about the things I need! And
I've done without! But now comes the thing a woman
wants more than all the other things in the world !" .
She paused, but only for a moment. “They tell ye to
love a man of your own class. Me old mother said that to
me, before she died. But suppose ye didn't happen to ?
Suppose ye'd stopped and thought what it meant, havin'
one baby after another, till ye're worn out and drop-
like me old mother did ? Suppose ye knew good manners
when ye see them — ye knew interestin' talk when ye
heard it!” She clasped her hands suddenly before her,
exclaiming, “Ah, 'tis something different ye are, Joe -
so different from anything around here! The way ye
talk, the way yo move, the gay look in your eyes! No
miner ever had that happy look, Joe; me heart stops beatin'
almost when ye look at me!” She stopped with a sharp
catching of her breath, and he saw that she was struggling
for self-control. After a moment she exclaimed, de-
fiantly: “But they'd tell ye, be careful, ye daren't love
that kind of man; ye'd only have your heart broken!”
There was silence. For this problem the amateur so-
ciologist had no solution at hand — whether for the ab-
stract question, or for its concrete application !
$ 31. Mary forced herself to go on. “This is how
I've worked it out, Joe! I said to meself, “Ye love this
man; and it's his love ye want - nothin' else! If he's
got a place in the world, ye’d only hold him back -- and
ye'd not want to do that. Ye don't want his name, or his
friends, or any of those things — ye want him!' Have
ye ever heard of such a thing as that???
Her cheeks were flaming, but she continued to meet his
gaze. “Yes, I've heard of it,” he answered, in a low
voice.
vo" What would ye say to it? Is it honest? The Rev-
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
189
1
erend Spragg would say 'twas the devil, no doubt; Father
O'Gorman, down in Pedro, would call it mortal sin; and
maybe they know — but I don't! I only know I can't
stand it any more!”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she cried out suddenly,
“Oh, take me away from here! Take me away and give
me a chance, Joe! I'll ask nothing, I'll never stand in
your way; I'll work for ye, I'll cook and wash and do
everything for ye, I'll wear my fingers to the bone! Or
I'll go out and work at some job, and earn my share. And
I'll make ye this promise — if ever ye get tired and want
to leave me, ye'll not hear a word of complaint!"
She made no conscious appeal to his senses; she sat
gazing at him honestly through her tears, and that made
it all the harder to answer her.
What could he say? He felt the old dangerous im-
pulse -- to take the girl in his arms and comfort her.
When finally he spoke it was with an effort to keep his
voice calm. “I'd say yes, Mary, if I thought it would
work."
“It would work! It would, Joe! Ye can quit when
ye want to. I mean it!"
“ There's no woman lives who can be happy on such
terms, Mary. She wants her man, and she wants him to
herself, and she wants him always; she's only deluding
herself if she believes anything else. You're over-wrought
now, what you've seen in the last few days has made you
wild __"
“No!” she exclaimed. “'Tis not only that! I been
thinkin' about it for weeks.”
"I know. You've been thinking, but you wouldn't
have spoken if it hadn't been for this horror.” He paused
for a moment, to renew his own self-possession. “It
won't do, Mary," he declared. “I've seen it tried more
than once, and I'm not so old either. My own brother
tried it once, and ruined himself.”
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KING COAL
“Ah, ye're afraid to trust me, Joe!”
“No, it's not that; what I mean is -- he ruined his own
heart, he made himself selfish. He took everything, and
gave nothing. He's much older than I, so I've had a
chance to see its effect on him. He's cold, he has no faith,
even in his own nature; when you talk to him about mak-
ing the world better he tells you you're a fool."
"It's another way of bein' afraid of me," she insisted.
“ Afraid you'd ought to marry me!”
“But, Mary -- there's the other girl. I really love her,
and I'm promised to her. What can I do?"
“'Tis that I've never believed you loved her," she said,
in a whisper. Her eyes fell and she began picking nerv-
ously again at the faded blue dress, which was smutted
and grease-stained, perhaps from her recent effort with
Mrs. Zamboni's brood. Several times Hal thought she
was going to speak, but she shut her lips tightly again;
he watched her, his heart aching.
When finally she spoke, it was still in a whisper, and
there was a note of humility he had never heard from her
before. “Ye'll not be wantin' to speak to me, Joe, after
what I've said.”
“Oh, Mary!” he exclaimed, and caught her hand,
“ don't say I've made you more unhappy! I want to help
you! Won't you let me be your friend - your real, true
friend? Let me help you to get out of this trap; you'll
have a chance to look about, you'll find a way to be happy
— the whole world will seem different to you then, and
you'll laugh at the idea that you ever wanted me!”
§ 32. The two of them went back to the pit-mouth. It
had been two days since the disaster, and still the fan had
not been started, and there was no sign of its being started.
The hysteria of the women was growing, and there was a
tension in the crowds.. Jeff Cotton had brought in a force
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
191
of men to assist him in keeping order. They had built
a fence of barbed wire about the pit-mouth and its ap-
proaches, and behind this wire they walked — hard-look-
ing citizens with policemen's “ billies," and the bulge of
revolvers plainly visible on their hips.
During this long period of waiting, Hal had talks with
members of his check-weighman group. They told what
had happened while he was in jail, and this reminded him
of something which had been driven from his mind by the
explosion. Poor old John Edstrom was down in Pedro,
perhaps in dire need. Hal went to the old Swede's cabin
that night, climbed through a window, and dug up the
buried money. There were five five-dollar bills, and he
put them in an envelope, addressed them in care of General
Delivery, Pedro, and had Mary Burke take them to the
post office and register them.
The hours dragged on, and still there was no sign of
the pit-mouth being opened. There began to be secret
gatherings of the miners and their wives to complain at
the conduct of the company; and it was natural that Hal's
friends who had started the check-weighman movement,
should take the lead in these. They were among the most
intelligent of the workers, and saw farther into the mean-
ing of events. They thought, not merely of the men who
were trapped under ground at this moment, but of thou-
sands of others who would be trapped through years to
come. Hal, especially, was pondering how he could ac-
complish something definite before he left the camp; for
of course he would have to leave soon — Jeff Cotton would
remember him, and carry out his threat to get rid of him.
Newspapers had come in, with accounts of the disaster,
and Hal and his friends read these. It was evident that
the company had been at pains to have the accounts writ-
ten from its own point of view. There existed some public
sensitiveness on the subject of mine-disasters in this state.
The death-rate from accidents was seen to be mounting
192
KING COAL
steadily; the reports of the state mine inspector showed
six per thousand in one year, eight and a half in the next,
and twenty-one and a half in the next. When fifty or a
hundred men were killed in a single accident, and when
such accidents kept happening, one on the heels of an-
other, even the most callous public could not help asking
questions. So in this case the “G. F. C.” had been care
ful to minimise the loss of life, and to make excuses. The
accident had been owing to no fault of the company's; the
mine had been regularly sprinkled, both with water and
adobe dust, and so the cause of the explosion must have
been the carelessness of the men in handling powder.
In Jack David's cabin one night there arose a discussion
as to the number of men entombed in the mine. The com-
pany's estimate of the number was forty, but Minetti and
Olson and David agreed that this was absurd. Any man
who went about in the crowds could satisfy himself that
there were two or three times as many unaccounted for.
And this falsification was deliberate, for the company had
a checking system, whereby it knew the name of every man
in the mine. But most of these names were unpronounce
able Slavish, and the owners of the names had no friends
to mention them – at least not in any language under-
stood by American newspaper editors.
It was all a part of the system, declared Jack David:
its purpose and effect being to enable the company to go
on killing men without paying for them, either in money
or in prestige. It occurred to Hal that it might be worth
while to contradict these false statements — almost as
worth while as to save the men who were at this moment
entombed. Any one who came forward to make such a
contradiction would of course be giving himself up to the
black-list; but then, Hal regarded himself as a man al-
ready condemned to that penalty.
Tom Olson spoke up. “What would you do with your
contradiction?"
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
193
“Give it to the papers," Hal answered.
“But what papers would print it?”
“ There are two rival papers in Pedro, aren't there?”
“One owned by Alf Raymond, the sheriff-emperor, and
the other by Vagleman, counsel for the 'G. F. C. Which
one would you try?”
“Well then, the outside papers - those in Western
City. There are reporters here now, and some one of
them would surely take it.”
Olson answered, declaring that they would not get any
but labour and Socialist papers to print such news. But
even that was well worth doing. And Jack David, who
was strong for unions and all their activities, put in, “ The
thing to do is to take a regular census, so as to know exactly
how many are in the mine."
The suggestion struck fire, and they agreed to set to
work that same evening. It would be a relief to do some-
thing, to have something in their minds but despair. They
passed the word to Mary Burke, to Rovetta, Klowoski,
and others; and at eleven o'clock the next morning they
met again, and the lists were put together, and it was found
that no less than a hundred and seven men and boys were
positively known to be inside Number One.
§ 33. As it happened, however, discussion of this list
and the method of giving it to the world was cut short
by a more urgent matter. Jack David came in with news
of fresh trouble at the pit-mouth. The new fan was being
put in place; but they were slow about it, so slow that some
people had become convinced that they did not mean to
start the fan at all, but were keeping the mine sealed to
prevent the fire from spreading. A group of such mal-
contents had presumed to go to Mr. Carmichael, the deputy
state mine-inspector, to urge him to take some action; and
the leader of these protestants, Huszar, the Austrian, who
194
KING COAL
.
had been one of Hal's check-weighman group, had been
taken into custody and marched at double-quick to the
gate of the stockade!
Jack David declared furthermore that he knew a car-
penter who was working in the fan-house, and who said
that no haste whatever was being made. All the men at
the fan-house shared that opinion; the mine was sealed,
and would stay sealed until the company was sure the fire
was out.
“But,” argued Hal, “if they were to open it, the fire
would spread; and wouldn't that prevent rescue work?”
“Not at all,” declared “ Big Jack.” He explained that
by reversing the fan they could draw the smoke up through
the air-course, which would clear the main passages for a
time. “But, you see, some coal might catch fire, and some
timbers; there might be falls of rock so they couldn't work
some of the rooms again.”
“How long will they keep the mine sealed ? " cried Hal,
in consternation.
. “Nobody can say. In a big mine like that, a fire might
smoulder for a week.”
“Everybody be dead ! ” cried Rosa Minetti, wringing
her hands in a sudden access of grief.
· Hal turned to Olson. “Would they possibly do such a
thing?"
“It's been done - more than once," was the organiser's
reply.
*Did you never hear about Cherry, Illinois ?" asked
David. « They did it there, and more than three hundred
people lost their lives." He went on to tell that dreadful
story, known to every coal-miner. They had sealed the
mine, while women fainted and men tore their clothes in
frenzy — some going insane. They had kept it sealed
for two weeks, and when they opened it, there were twenty-
one men still alive!
“ They did the same thing in Diamondville, Wyoming,"
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
195
added Olson. “They built up a barrier, and when they
took it away they found a heap of dead men, who had
crawled to it and torn their fingers to the bone trying to
break through.”
“My God!” cried Hal, springing to his feet. “And
this man Carmichael -- would he stand for that?”
“He'd tell you they were doing their best,” said “Big
Jack.” “And maybe he thinks they are. But you'll see
— something'll keep happening; they'll drag on from day
to day, and they'll not start the fan till they're ready."
“Why, it's murder!” cried Hal.
“It's business," said Tom Olson, quietly.
Hal looked from one to another of the faces of these
working people. Not one but had friends in that trap;
Don't Don't
“ You have to stand it! " he exclaimed, half to himself.
“Don't you see the guards at the pit-mouth?” answered
David. .“ Don't you see the guns sticking out of their
pockets?”
“They bring in more guards this morning," put in
Jerry Minetti. “Rosa, she see them get off."
“They know what they doin'!” said Rosa. “They
only fraid we find it out! They told Mrs. Zamboni she
keep away or they send her out of camp. And old Mrs.
Jonotch - her husband and three sons inside!”
* They're getting rougher and rougher,” declared Mrs.
David. “That big fellow they call Pete, that came up
from Pedro -- the way he's handling the women is a
shame!”
.“I know him," put in Olson ; “Pete Hanun. They
had him in Sheridan when the union first opened head-
quarters. He smashed one of our organisers in the mouth
and broke four of his teeth. They say he has a jail-
record.”
All through the previous year at college Hal had lis-
tened to lectures upon political economy, filled with the
A
196
KING COAL
.
and dems; it accoma-roll, itative and is
praises of a thing called “Private Ownership.” This
Private Ownership developed initiative and economy; it
kept the wheels of industry a-roll, it kept fat the pay-rolls
of college faculties; it accorded itself with the sacred laws
of supply and demand, it was the basis of the progress and
prosperity wherewith America had been blessed. And
here suddenly Hal found himself face to face with the
reality of it; he saw its wolfish eyes glaring into his own,
he felt its smoking hot breath in his face, he saw its gleam-
ing fangs and claw-like fingers, dripping with the blood
of men and women and children. Private Ownership of
coal-mines! Private Ownership of sealed-up entrances
and non-existent escape-ways! Private Ownership of fans
which did not start, of sprinklers which did not sprinkle.
Private Ownership of clubs and revolvers, and of thugs
and ex-convicts to use them, driving away rescuers and
shutting up agonised widows and orphans in their homes !
Oh, the serene and well-fed priests of Private Ownership,
chanting in academic halls the praises of the bloody
Demon!
Suddenly Hal stopped still. Something had risen in
him, the existence of which he had never suspected. There
strong man's when he spoke: “I am going to make them
open that mine!”
They looked at him. They were all of them close to the
border of hysteria, but they caught the strange note in his
utterance. “I am going to make them open that mine!”
“How?” asked Olson.
“The public doesn't know about this thing. If the
story got out, there'd be such a clamour, it couldn't go on!”
“But how will you get it out?”
“I'll give it to the newspapers! They can't suppress
such a thing — I don't care how prejudiced they are!"
" But do you think they'd believe what a miner's buddy
tells them ? ' asked Mrs. David.
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
197
“I'll find a way to make them believe me,” said Hal.
“ I'm going to make them open that mine!”
§ 34. In the course of his wanderings about the camp,
Hal had observed several wide-awake looking young men
with notebooks in their hands. He could see that these
young men were being made guests of the company, chat-
ting with the bosses upon friendly terms; nevertheless, he
believed that among them he might find one who had a con-
science — or at any rate who would yield to the tempta-
tion of a “scoop.” So, leaving the gathering at Mrs.
David's, Hal went to the pit-mouth, watching out for one
of these reporters; when be found him, he followed him for
a while, desiring to get him where no company “spotter”
might interfere. At the first chance, he stepped up, and
politely asked the reporter to come into a side street, where
they might converse undisturbed.
The reporter obeyed the request; and Hal, concealing
the intensity of his feelings, so as not to repel the other,
let it be known that he had worked in North Valley for
some months, and could tell much about conditions in the
camp. There was the matter of adobe-dust, for example.
Explosions in dry mines could be prevented by spraying
the walls with this material. Did the reporter happen to
know that the company's claim to have used it was en-
tirely false ?
No, the reporter answered, he did not know this. He
seemed interested, and asked Hal's name and occupation.
Hal told him “ Joe Smith,' a “buddy," who had recently
been chosen as check-weighman. The reporter, a lean and
keen-faced young man, asked many questions — intelli-
gent questions; incidentally he mentioned that he Tas the
local correspondent of the great press association whose
stories of the disaster were sent to erery corner of the
country. This seemed to Hal an extraordinary piece of
198
KING COAL
good fortune, and he proceeded to tell this Mr. Graham
about the census which some of the workers had taken;
they were able to give the names of a hundred and seven
men and boys who were inside the mine. The list was at
Mr. Graham's disposal if he cared to see it. Mr. Graham
seemed more interested than ever, and made notes in his
book.
Another thing, more important yet, Hal continued; the
matter of the delay in getting the fan started. It had been
three days since the explosion, but there had been no at-
tempt at entering the mine. Had Mr. Graham seen the
disturbance at the pit-mouth that morning ? Did he real-
ise that a man had been thrown out of camp merely because
he had appealed to the deputy state mine-inspector ? Hal
told what so many had come to believe — that the company
was saving property at the expense of life. He went on
to point out the human meaning of this — he told about
old Mrs. Rafferty, with her failing health and her eight
children; about Mrs. Zamboni, with eleven children; about
Mrs. Jonotch, with a husband and three sons in the mine.
Led on by the reporter's interest, Hal began to show some
of his feeling. These were human beings, not animals;
they loved and suffered, even though they were poor and
humble!
“Most certainly!" said Mr. Graham. “You're right,
and you may rest assured I'll look into this.”
“ There's one thing more," said Hal. “If my name is
mentioned, I'll be fired, you know."
“I won't mention it,” said the other.
“Of course, if you can't publish the story without giv-
ing its source -"
* I'm the source," said the reporter, with a smile.
“ Your name would not add anything.”
He spoke with quiet assurance; he seemed to know so
completely both the situation and his own duty in regard
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
199
to it, that Hal felt a thrill of triumph. It was as if a
strong wind had come blowing from the outside world,
dispelling the miasma which hung over this coal-camp.
Yes, this reporter was the outside world! He was the
power of public opinion, making itself felt in this place
of knavery and fear! He was the voice of truth, the
courage and rectitude of a great organisation of publicity,
independent of secret influences, lifted above corruption !
“ I'm indebted to you,” said Mr. Graham, at the end,
and Hal's sense of victory was complete. What an ex-
traordinary chance — that he should have run into the
agent of the great press association! The story would go
out to the great world of industry, which depended upon
coal as its life-blood. The men in the factories, the wheels
of which were turned by coal — the travellers on trains
which were moved by coal — they would hear at last of
the sufferings of those who toiled in the bowels of the earth
for them! Even the ladies, reclining upon the decks of
palatial steamships in gleaming tropic seas — so marvel-
lous was the power of modern news-spreading agencies,
that these ladies too might hear the cry for help of these
toilers, and of their wives and little ones! And from this
great world would come an answer, a universal shout of
horror, of execration, that would force even old Peter
Harrigan to give way! So Hal mused — for he was
young, and this was his first crusade.
He was so happy that he was able to think of himself
again, and to realise that he had not eaten that day. It
was noon-time, and he went into Reminitsky's, and was
about half through with the first course of Reminitsky's
two-course banquet, when his cruel disillusioning fell upon
him!
He looked up and saw Jeff Cotton striding into the
dining-room, making straight for him. There was blood
in the marshal's eye, and Hal saw it, and rose, instinctively,
200
KING COAL
had til had 10 the camp # him, thay; and
quite
“Come!” said Cotton, and took him by the coat-sleeve
and marched him out, almost before the rest of the diners
had time to catch their breath.
Hal had no opportunity now to display his “ tea-party
manners” to the camp-marshal. As they walked, Cotton
expressed his opinion of him, that he was a skunk, a puppy,
a person of undesirable ancestry; and when Hal endeav-
oured to ask a question — which he did quite genuinely,
not grasping at once the meaning of what was happening
— the marshal bade him “shut his face," and emphasised
the command by a twist at his coat-collar. At the same
time two of the huskiest mine-guards, who had been wait-
ing at the dining-room door, took him, one by each arm,
and assisted his progress.
They went down the street and past Jeff Cotton's office,
not stopping this time. Their destination was the rail-
road-station, and when Hal got there, he saw a train stand-
ing. The three men marched him to it, not releasing him
till they had jammed him down into a seat.
“Now, young fellow," said Cotton, “ we'll see who's
running this camp!”
By this time Hal had regained a part of his self-pos-
session. “Do I need a ticket?” he asked.
“I'll see to that,” said the marshal.
" And do I get my things?”
" You save some questions for your college professors,"
snapped the marshal.
So Hal waited; and a minute or two later a man ar-
rived on the run with his scanty belongings, rolled into a
bundle and tied with a piece of twine. Hal noted that this
man was big and ugly, and was addressed by the camp-
raarshal as “ Pete."
The conductor shouted, “All aboard ! ” . And at the
same time Jeff Cotton leaned over towards Hal and spoke
in a menacing whisper: “Take this from me, young fel-
THE SERFS OF KING COAL
201
low; don't stop in Pedro, move on in a hurry, or some-
thing will happen to you on a dark night.”
After which he strode down the aisle, and jumped off
the moving train. But Hal noticed that Pete Hanun, the
breaker of teeth, stayed on the car a few seats behind him.
BOOK THREE
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
§ 1. It was Hal's intention to get to Western City as
quickly as possible to call upon the newspaper editors.
But first he must have money to travel, and the best way
he could think of to get it was to find John Edstrom. He
left the train, followed by Pete Hanun; after some in-
quiry, he came upon the undertaker who had buried Ed-
strom’s wife, and who told him where the old Swede was
staying, in the home of a labouring-man nearby.
Edstrom greeted him with eager questions: Who had
been killed ? What was the situation? Hal told in brief
sentences what had happened. When he mentioned his
need of money, Edstrom answered that he had a little, and
would lend it, but it was not enough for a ticket to Western
City. Hal asked about the twenty-five dollars which Mary
Burke had sent by registered mail; the old man had heard
nothing about it, he had not been to the post-office. “Let's
go now!” said Hal, at once; but as they were starting
downstairs, a fresh difficulty occurred to him. Pete
Hanun was on the street outside, and it was likely that he
had heard about this money from Jeff Cotton; he might
hold Edstrom up and take it away.
“Let me suggest something," put in the old man.
". Come and see my friend Ed MacKellar. He may be
able to give us some advice -- even to think of some way
to get the mine open.” Edstrom explained that MacKel-
lar, an old Scotchman, had been a miner, but was now
crippled, and held some petty office in Pedro. He was a
persistent opponent of “ Alf” Raymond's machine, and
they had almost killed him on one occasion. His home
was not far away, and it would take little time to consult
him.
205
206
KING COAL
“All right,” said Hal, and they set out at once. Pete
Hanun followed them, not more than a dozen yards behind,
but did not interfere, and they turned in at the gate of a
little cottage. A woman opened the door for them, and
asked them into the dining-room where MacKellar was
sitting — a grey-haired old man, twisted up with rheuma-
tism and obliged to go about on crutches.
Hal told his story. As the Scotchman had been brought
up in the mines, it was not necessary to go into details
about the situation. When Hal told his idea of appealing
to the newspapers, the other responded at once, “You
won't have to go to Western City. There's a man right
here who'll do the business for you; Keating, of the
Gazette."
“The Western City Gazette?” exclaimed Hal. He
knew this paper; an evening journal selling for a cent, and
read by working-men. Persons of culture who referred to
it disposed of it with the adjective " yellow.”
“I know," said MacKellar, noting Hal's tone. “But
it's the only paper that will publish your story anyway."
“Where is this Keating ? '
“He's been up at the mine. It's too bad you didn't
meet him."
“ Can we get hold of him now?”
“He might be in Pedro. Try the American Hotel.”
Hal went to the telephone, and in a minute was hearing
for the first time the cheery voice of his friend and lieu-
tenant-to-be, “Billy” Keating. In a couple of minutes
more the owner of the voice was at MacKellar's door,
wiping the perspiration from his half-bald forehead. He
was round-faced, like a full moon, and as jolly as Falstaff;
when you got to know him better, you discovered that he
was loyal as a Newfoundland dog. For all his bulk,
Keating was a newspaper man, every inch of him “on the
job."
He started to question the young miner as soon as he
ephone, avoice of hai couple eltar's done
C
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
207
was introduced, and it quickly became clear to Hal that
here was the man he was looking for. Keating knew ex-
actly what questions to ask, and had the whole story in
a few minutes. “By thunder!” he cried. “My last
edition!” And he pulled out his watch, and sprang to
the telephone. “Long distance," he called; then, "I want
the city editor of the Western City Gazette. And, oper-
ator, please see if you can't rush it through. It's very
urgent, and last time I had to wait nearly half an hour.”
He turned back to Hal, and proceeded to ask more ques-
tions, at the same time pulling a bunch of copy-paper from
his pocket and making notes. He got all Hal's statements
about the lack of sprinkling, the absence of escape-ways,
the delay in starting the fan, the concealing of the number
of men in the mine. “I knew things were crooked up
there!” he exclaimed. “But I couldn't get a lead!
They kept a man with me every minute of the time. You
know a fellow named Predovich ?"
“I do,” said Hal. “The company store-clerk; he once
went through my pockets.”
Keating made a face of disgust. “Well, he was my
chaperon. Imagine trying to get the miners to talk to
you with that sneak at your heels! I said to the superin-
tendent, 'I don't need anybody to escort me around your
place.' And he looked at me with a nasty little smile.
We wouldn't want anything to happen to you while you're
in this camp, Mr. Keating. You don't consider it neces-
sary to protect the lives of the other reporters,' I said.
No,' said he; but the Gazette has made a great many
enemies, you know.' 'Drop your fooling, Mr. Cart-
wright,' I said. "You propose to have me shadowed while
I'm working on this assignment?' 'You can put it that
way,' he answered, “if you think it'll please the readers
of the Gazette.'”
« Too bad we didn't meet !” said Hal. “Or if you'd
run into any of our check-weighman crowd!”
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KING COAL
“Oh! You know about that check-weighman busi-
ness !” exclaimed the reporter. “I got a hint of it -
that's how I happened to be down here to-day. I heard
there was a man named Edstrom, who'd been shut out
for making trouble; and I thought if I could find him, I
might get a lead.”
Hal and MacKellar looked at the old Swede, and the
three of them began to laugh. “Here's your man!” said
MacKellar.
“And here's your check-weighman!” added Edstrom,
pointing to Hal.
Instantly the reporter was on his job again; he began
to fire another series of questions. He would use that
check-weighman story as a “ follow-up” for the next day,
to keep the subject of North Valley alive. The story had
a direct bearing on the disaster, because it showed what
the North Valley bosses were doing when they should have
been looking after the safety of their mine. “I'll write
it out this afternoon and send it by mail," said Keating;
he added, with a smile, “ That's one advantage of handling
news the other papers won't touch --- you don't have to
worry about losing your "scoops '!”
$ 2. Keating went to the telephone again, to worry
“long distance"; then, grumbling about his last edition,
he came back to ask more questions about Hal's experi-
ences. Before long he drew out the story of the young
man's first effort in the publicity game; at which he sank
back in his chair, and laughed until he shook, as the
nursery-rhyme describes it, " like a bowlful of jelly.”
“ Graham!” he exclaimed. “Fancy, MacKellar, he
took that story to Graham!”
The Scotchman seemed to find it equally funny; to-
gether they explained that Graham was the political re-
porter of the Eagle, the paper in Pedro which was owned
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL 209
N
by the Sheriff-emperor. One might call him Alf Ray-
mond's journalistic jackal; there was no job too dirty for
him.
“But,” cried Hal," he told me he was correspondent
for the Western press association!”
“He's that, too,” replied Billy.
“But does the press association employ spies for the
"G. F. C.'?"
The reporter answered, drily, “When you understand
the news game better, you'll realise that the one thing the
press association cares about in a correspondent is that he
should have respect for property. If respect for prop-
erty is the back-bone of his being, he can learn what news
is, and the right way to handle it."
Keating turned to the Scotchman. “Do you happen
to have a typewriter in the house, Mr. MacKellar?”
“An old one," said the other -“lame, like myself.”
“I'll make out with it. I'd ask this young man over to
my hotel, but I think he'd better keep off the streets as
much as possible.”
“You're right. If you take my advice, you'll take the
typewriter upstairs, where there's no chance of a shot
through the window.”).
“Great heavens !” exclaimed Hal. “Is this America,
or mediæval Italy?”
"It's the Empire of Raymond,” replied MacKellar.
" They shot my friend Tom Burton dead while he stood
on the steps of his home. He was opposing the machine,
and had evidence about ballot-frauds he was going to put
before the Grand Jury."
While Keating continued to fret with “long distance,"
the old Scotchman went on trying to impress upon Hal the
danger of his position. Quite recently an organiser of the
miners' union had been beaten up in broad day-light and
left insensible on the sidewalk; MacKellar had watched
the trial and acquittal of the two thugs who had committed
210
KING COAL
this crime — the foreman of the jury being a saloon-keeper,
one of Raymond's heelers, and the other jurymen being
Mexicans, unable to comprehend a word of the court pro-
ceedings.
“Exactly such a jury as Jeff Cotton promised me!”
remarked Hal, with a feeble attempt at a smile.
“Yes,” answered the other; "and don't make any mis-
take about it, if they want to put you away, they can do it.
They run the whole machine here. I know how it is, for
I had a political job myself, until they found they couldn't
use me."
The old Scotchman went on to explain that he had been
elected justice of peace, and had tried to break up the
business of policemen taking money from the women of the
town; he had been forced to resign, and his enemies had
made his life a torment. Recently he had been candidate
for district judge on the Progressive ticket, and told of his
efforts to carry on a campaign in the coal-camps — how his
circulars had been confiscated, his posters torn down, his
supporters “kangarooed.” It was exactly as Alec Stone,
the pit-boss, had explained to Hal. In some of the camps
the meeting-halls belonged to the company; in others they
belonged to saloon-keepers whose credit depended upon
Alf Raymond. In the few places where there were halls
that could be hired, the machine had gone to the extreme
of sending in rival entertainments, furnishing free music
and free beer in order to keep the crowds away from
MacKellar.
All this time Billy Keating had been chafing and scold-
ing at “ long distance.” Now at last he managed to get
his call, and silence fell in the room. “Hello, Pringle,
that you? This is Keating. Got a big story on the North
Valley disaster. Last edition put to bed yet? Put Jim
on the wire. Hello, Jim! Got your book?” And then
Billy, evidently talking to a stenographer, began to tell
the story he had got from Hal. Now and then he would
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
211
stop to repeat or spell a word; once or twice Hal corrected
him on details. So, in about a quarter of an hour, they
put the job through; and Keating turned to Hal.
“ There you are, son,” said he. “Your story'll be on
the street in Western City in a little over an hour; it'll be
down here as soon thereafter as they can get telephone con-
nections. And take my advice, if you want to keep a
whole skin, you'll be out of Pedro when that happens ! ”
§ 3. When Hal spoke, he did not answer Billy Keat-
ing's last remark. He had been listening to a retelling of
the North Valley disaster over the telephone; so he was not
thinking about his skin, but about a hundred and seven
men and boys buried inside a mine.
“Mr. Keating," said he, “are you sure the Gazette
will print that story?”
“Good Lord!” exclaimed the other. “What am I
here for?"
“Well, I've been disappointed once, you know."
“ Yes, but you got into the wrong camp. We're a poor
man's paper, and this is what we live on.”
“ There's no chance of its being 'toned down'?"
“Not the slightest, I assure you."
“ There's no chance of Peter Harrigan's suppressing
it?"
“Peter Harrigan made his attempts on the Gazette long
ago, my boy."
“Well,” said Hal," and now tell me this — will it do
the work ?”
“In what way?”
“I mean - in making them open the mine."
Keating considered for a moment. “I'm afraid it won't
do much."
Hal looked at him blankly. He had taken it for granted
that the publication of the facts would force the company
212
KING COAL
to move. But Keating explained that the Gazette was
read mainly by working-people, and so had comparatively
little influence. “We're an afternoon paper," he said;
“and when people have been reading lies all morning, it's
not easy to make them believe the truth in the afternoon."
“But won't the story go to other papers — over the
country, I mean?”
“Yes, we have a press service; but the papers are all
like the Gazette -- poor man's papers. If there's some-
thing very raw, and we keep pounding away for a long
time, we can make an impression; at least we limit the
amount of news the Western press association can sup-
press. But when it comes to a small matter like sealing
up workingmen in a mine, all we can do is to worry the
'G. F. C. a little.”
So Hal was just where he had begun! “I must find
some other plan,” he exclaimed.
“I don't see what you can do," replied the other.
There was a pause, while the young miner pondered.
“I had thought of going up to Western City and appealing
to the editors,” he said, a little uncertainly.
“Well, I can tell you about that — you might as well
save your car-fare. They wouldn't touch your story."
“Ănd if I appealed to the Governor ? "
“In the first place, he probably wouldn't see you. And
if he did, he wouldn't do anything. He's not really the
Governor, you know; he's a puppet put up there to fool
you. He only moves when Harrigan pulls a string.”
« Of course I knew he was Old Peter's man,” said Hal.
“But then ”-- and he concluded, somewhat lamely,
What can I do?”.
A smile of pity came upon the reporter's face. “I can
see this is the first time you've been up against 'big busi-
ness.'” And then he added, “You're young! When
you've had more experience, you'll leave these problems
to older heads!” But Hal failed to get the reporter's
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
213
sarcasm. He had heard these exact words in such deadly
seriousness from his brother! Besides, he had just come
from scenes of horror.
“But don't you see, Mr. Keating?” he exclaimed.
“It's impossible for me to sit still while those men die ?"
“I don't know about your sitting still," said the other.
“ All I know is that all your moving about isn't going to
« It's imon't know that all your
Hal turuny good.at all your meting stili, ko men died;
Hal turned to Edstrom and MacKellar. “Gentlemen,"
he said, “listen to me for a minute." And there was a
note of pleading in his voice — as if he thought they were
deliberately refusing to help him! “We've got to do some
thing about this. We've got to do something! I'm new
at the game, as Mr. Keating says; but you aren't. Put
your minds on it, gentlemen, and help me work out a
plan!"
There was a long silence. “God knows,” said Edstrom,
at last. - "I'd suggest something if I could.”
“ And I, too,” said MacKellar. “You're up against a
stone-wall, my boy. The government here is simply a
department of the G. F. C. The officials are crooks —
company servants, all of them."
“Just a moment now," said Hal. “Let's consider.
Suppose we had a real government - what steps would we
take? We'd carry such a case to the District Attorney,
wouldn't we?”
“Yes, no doubt of it,” said MacKellar.
“You mentioned him before," said Hal. “He threat-
ened to prosecute some mine-superintendents for ballot-
frauds, you said.”
“That was while he was running for election,” said
MacKellar.
“Oh! I remember what Jeff Cotton said that he
was friendly to the miners in his speeches, and to the
companies in his acts.”
“That's the man," said the other, drily.
214
KING COAL
“Well,” argued Hal, “oughtn't I go to him, to give him
a chance, at least? You can't tell, he might have a heart
inside him.”
“It isn't a heart he needs," replied MacKellar; “it's
a back-bone."
“But surely I ought to put it up to him! If he won't
do anything, at least I'll put him on record, and it'll make
another story for you, won't it, Mr. Keating?"
“Yes, that's true," admitted the reporter. “What
would you ask him to do?"
“Why, to lay the matter before the Grand Jury; to
bring indictments against the North Valley bosses."
“But that would take a long time; it wouldn't save the
men in the mine."
6 What might save them would be the threat of it."
MacKellar put in. “I don't think any threat of Dick
Parker's would count for that much. The bosses know
they could stop him.”
Well, isn't there somebody else? Shouldn't I try the
courts?"
“What courts?”
“I don't know. You tell me."
“ Well,” said the Scotchman, “to begin at the bottom,
there's a justice of the peace.”
“ Who's he?”
“Jim Anderson, a horse-doctor. He's like any other
J. P. you ever knew — he lives on petty graft."
“Is there a higher court?"
“ Yes, the district court; Judge Denton. He's the law-
partner of Vagleman, counsel for the 'G. F. C. How
far would you expect to get with him?"
“I suppose I'm clutching at straws,” said Hal. “But
they say that's what a drowning man does. Anyway, I'm
going to see these people, and maybe out of the lot of them
I can find one who'll act. It can't do any harm!”.
The three men thought of some harm it might do; they
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
215
tried to make Hal consider the danger of being slugged
or shot. “ They'll do it!” exclaimed MacKellar. « And
no trouble for them — they'll prove you were stabbed by a
drunken Dago, quarrelling over some woman."
But Hal had got his head set; he believed he could put
this job through before his enemies had time to lay any
plans. Nor would he let any of his friends accompany
him; he had something more important for both Edstrom
and Keating to do — and as for MacKellar, he could not
get about rapidly enough. Hal bade Edstrom go to the
post-office and get the registered letter, and proceed at
once to change the bills. It was his plan to make out affi-
davits, and if the officials here would not act, to take the
affidavits to the Governor. And for this he would need
money. Meantime, he said, let Billy Keating write out
the check-weighman story, and in a couple of hours meet
him at the American Hotel, to get copies of the affidavits
for the Gazette.
Hal was still wearing the miner's clothes he had worn
on the night of his arrest in Edstrom's cabin. But he
declined MacKellar's offer to lend him a business-suit;
the old Scotchman's clothes would not fit him, he knew,
and it would be better to make his appeal as a real miner
than as a misfit gentleman.
These matters being settled, Hal went out upon the
street, where Pete Hanun, the breaker of teeth, fell in
behind him. The young miner at once broke into a run,
and the other followed suit, and so the two of them sped
down the street, to the wonder of people on the way. As
Hal had had practice as a sprinter, no doubt Pete was glad
that the District Attorney's office was not far away!
$ 4. Mr. Richard Parker was busy, said the clerk in
the outer office; for which Hal was not sorry, as it gave
him a chance to get his breath. Seeing a young man
216
KING COAL
flushed and panting, the clerk stared with curiosity; but
Hal offered no explanation, and the breaker of teeth waited
on the street outside.
Mr. Parker received his caller in a couple of minutes.
He was a well-fed gentleman with generous neck and chin,
freshly shaved and rubbed with talcum powder. His
clothing was handsome, his linen immaculate; one got the
impression of a person who " did himself well.” There
were papers on his desk, and he looked preoccupied.
“Well ?” said he, with a swift glance at the young
miner.
“I understand that I am speaking to the District At-
torney of Pedro County?”
“ That's right.”
“Mr. Parker, have you given any attention to the cir-
cumstances of the North Valley disaster?”
“No," said Mr. Parker. “Why?"
“I have just come from North Valley, and I can give
you information which may be of interest to you. There
are a hundred and seven people entombed in the mine, and
the company officials have sealed it, and are sacrificing
those lives."
The other put down the correspondence, and made an
examination of his caller from under his heavy eyelids.
“How do you know this?"
“I left there only a few hours ago. The facts are
known to all the workers in the camp."
“ You are speaking from what you heard ? "
“I am speaking from what I know at first hand. I saw
the disaster, I saw the pit-mouth boarded over and covered
with canvas. I know a man who was driven out of camp
this morning for complaining about the delay in starting
the fan. It has been over three days since the explosion,
and still nothing has been done."
Mr. Parker proceeded to fire a series of questions, in
the sharp, suspicious manner customary to prosecuting
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
217
officials. But Hal did not mind that; it was the man's
business to make sure.
Presently he demanded to know how he could get cor-
roboration of Hal's statements.
“You'll have to go up there," was the reply.
“ You say the facts are known to the men? Give me
the names of some of them.”
“I have no authority to give their names, Mr. Parker.”
“What authority do you need? They will tell me,
won't they?"
“They may, and they may not. One man has already
lost his job; not every man cares to lose his job."
“ You expect me to go up there on your bare say-so ?”
“I offer you more than my say-so. I offer an affi-
davit.”
“ But what do I know about you?”
“You know that I worked in North Valley — or you
can verify the fact by using the telephone. My name is
Joe Smith, and I was a miner's helper in Number Two.”
But that was not sufficient, said Mr. Parker; his time
was valuable, and before hė took a trip to North Valley
he must have the names of witnesses who would corroborate
these statements.
“I offer you an affidavit !” exclaimed Hal. “I say
that I have knowledge that a crime is being committed
that a hundred and seven human lives are being sacrificed.
You don't consider that a sufficient reason for even making
inquiry?”
The District Attorney answered again that he desired
to do his duty, he desired to protect the workers in their
rights; but he could not afford to go off on a “wild goose
chase,” he must have the names of witnesses. And Hal
found himself wondering. Was the man merely taking
the first pretext for doing nothing ? Or could it be that
an official of the state would go as far as to help the com-
pany by listing the names of “ trouble-makers"?
218
KING COAL
In spite of his distrust, Hal was resolved to give the
man every chance he could. He went over the whole story
of the disaster. He took Mr. Parker up to the camp,
showed him the agonised women and terrified children
crowding about the pit-mouth, driven back with clubs and
revolvers. He named family after family, widows and
mothers and orphans. He told of the miners clamouring
for a chance to risk their lives to save their fellows. He
let his own feelings sweep him along; he pleaded with
fervour for his suffering friends.
“Young man,” said the other, breaking in upon his
eloquence,“ how long have you been working in North
Valley?"
“ About ten weeks."
“How long have you been working in coal-mines ?"
“ That was my first experience.”
“And you think that in ten weeks you have learned
enough to entitle you to bring a charge of' murder' against
men who have spent their lives in learning the business of
mining?"
“As I have told you," exclaimed Hal, “it's not merely
my opinion; it's the opinion of the oldest and most ex-
perienced of the miners. I tell you no effort whatever is
being made to save those men! The bosses care nothing
about their men! One of them, Alec Stone, was heard by
a crowd of people to say, “Damn the men! Save the
mules !'"
“Everybody up there is excited,” declared the other.
“Nobody can think straight at present — you can't think
straight yourself. If the mine's on fire, and if the fire
is spreading to such an extent that it can't be put out —"
“But, Mr. Parker, how can you say that it's spreading
to such an extent ? ”
“Well, how can you say that it isn't?”
There was a pause. “I understand there's a deputy
THE BENCHMEN OF KING COAL 219
mine inspector up there,” said the District Attorney, sud-
denly. * What's his name?”
“Carmichael,” said Hal.
“Well, and what does he say about it?”
“It was for appealing to him that the miner, Huszar,
was turned out of camp.”
“Well," said Mr. Parker — and there came a note into
his voice by which Hal knew that he had found the excuse
he sought —“Well, it's Carmichael's business, and I have
no right to butt in on it. If he comes to me and asks for
indictments, I'll act — but not otherwise. That's all I
have to say about it.”
And Hal rose.“ Very well, Mr. Parker,” said he. “I
have put the facts before you. I was told you wouldn't
do anything, but I wanted to give you a chance. Now I'm
going to ask the Governor for your removal !” And with
these words the young miner strode out of the office.
.
$ 5. Hal went down the street to the American Hotel,
where there was a public stenographer. When this young
woman discovered the nature of the material he proposed
to dictate, her fingers trembled visibly; but she did not re-
fuse the task, and Hal proceeded to set forth the circum-
stances of the sealing of the pit-mouth of Number One
Mine at North Valley, and to pray for warrants for the
arrest of Enos Cartwright and Alec Stone. Then he gave
an account of how he had been selected as check-weighman
and been refused access to the scales; and with all the legal
phraseology he could rake up, he prayed for the arrest of
Enos Cartwright and James Peters, superintendent and
tipple-boss at North Valley, for these offences. In another
affidavit he narrated how Jeff Cotton, camp-marshal, had
seized him at night, mistreated him, and shut him in prison
for thirty-six hours without warrant or charge; also how
220
KING COAL
Cotton, Pete Hanun, and two other parties by name un-
known, had illegally driven him from the town of North
Valley, threatening him with violence; for which he
prayed the arrest of Jeff Cotton, Pete Hanun, and the
two parties unknown.
Before this task was finished, Billy Keating came in,
bringing the twenty-five dollars which Edstrom had got
from the post-office. They found a notary public, before
whom Hal made oath to each document; and when these
had been duly inscribed and stamped with the seal of the
state, he gave carbon copies to Keating, who hurried off
to catch a mail-train which was just due. Billy would not
trust such things to the local post-office; for Pedro was the
hell of a town, he declared. As they went out on the
street again they noticed that their body-guard had been
increased by another husky-looking personage, who made
no attempt to conceal what he was doing.
Hal went around the corner to an office bearing the
legend, “ J. W. Anderson, Justice of the Peace.”
Jim Anderson, the horse-doctor, sat at his desk within.
He had evidently chewed tobacco before he assumed the
ermine, and his reddish-coloured moustache still showed
the stains. Hal observed such details, trying to weigh his
chances of success. He presented the affidavit describing
his treatment in North Valley, and sat waiting while His
Honour read it through with painful slowness.
“Well,” said the man, at last, “what do you want?”
“I want a warrant for Jeff Cotton's arrest.”
The other studied him for a minute. “No, young fel-
low,” said he. “You can't get no such warrant here."
" Why not?"
“Because Cotton's a deputy-sheriff; he had a right to
arrest you.”
“ To arrest me without a warrant?"
“ How do you know he didn't have a warrant ?"
“He admitted to me that he didn't.”
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL 221
Why didn't.idn't give me other, " thenerself. Wbfellow that
“Well, whether he had a warrant or not, it was his
business to keep order in the camp."
“You mean he can do anything he pleases in the
camp ?"
“What I mean is, it ain't my business to interfere.
Why didn't you see Si Adams, up to the camp?.”
“ They didn't give me any chance to see him.”
“Well,” replied the other, “there's nothing I can do
for you. You can see that for yourself. What kind of
discipline could they keep in them camps if any fellow that
had a kick could come down here and have the marshal
arrested ?"
“ Then a camp-marshal can act without regard to the
law?"
“I didn't say that.”
“ Suppose he had committed murder --- would you give
a warrant for that?”
“Yes, of course, if it was murder."
“And if you knew that he was in the act of committing
murder in a coal-camp — would you try to stop him ?”
“Yes, of course."
“ Then here's another affidavit,” said Hal; and he pro-
duced the one about the sealing of the mine. There was
silence while Justice Anderson read it through.
But again he shook his head. “No, you can't get no
such warrants here."
“Why not?"
“Because it ain't my business to run a coal-mine. I
don't understand it, and I'd make a fool of myself if I
tried to tell them people how to run their business."
Hal argued with him. Could company officials in
charge of a coal-mine commit any sort of outrage upon
their employés, and call it running their business? Their
control of the mine in such an emergency as this meant
the power of life and death over a hundred and seven men
and boys; could it be that the law had nothing to say in
222
KING COAL
such a situation? But Mr. Anderson only shook his head;
it was not his business to interfere. Hal might go up to
the court-house and see Judge Denton about it. So Hal
gathered up his affidavits and went out to the street again
- where there were now three husky-looking personages
waiting to escort him.
$ 6. The district court was in session and Hal sat for
a while in the court-room, watching Judge Denton. Here
was another prosperous and well-fed appearing gentleman,
with a rubicund visage shining over the top of his black
silk robe. The young miner found himself regarding
both the robe and the visage with suspicion. Could it be
that Hal was becoming cynical, and losing his faith in his
fellow man? What he thought of, in connection with the
Judge's appearance, was that there was a living to be
made sitting on the bench, while one's partner appeared
before the bench as coal-company counsel !
In an interval of the proceedings, Hal spoke to the
clerk, and was told that he might see the judge at four-
thirty; but a few minutes later Pete Hanun came in and
whispered to this clerk. The clerk looked at Hal, then
he went up and whispered to the Judge. At four-thirty,
when the court was declared adjourned, the Judge rose
and disappeared into his private office; and when Hal ap-
plied to the clerk, the latter brought out the message that
Judge Denton was too busy to see him.
But Hal was not to be disposed of in that easy fashion.
There was a side door to the court-room, with a corridor
beyond it, and while he stood arguing with the clerk he
saw the rubicund visage of the Judge flit past.
He darted in pursuit. He did not shout or make a
disturbance; but when he was close behind his victim, he
said, quietly, “Judge Denton, I appeal to you for jus-
tice!"
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL 223
The Judge turned and looked at him, his countenance
showing annoyance. “What do you want?”
It was a ticklish moment, for Pete Hanun was at Hal's
heels, and it would have needed no more than a nod from
the Judge to cause him to collar Hal. But the Judge,
taken by surprise, permitted himself to parley with the
young miner; and the detective hesitated, and finally fell
back a step or two.
Hal repeated his appeal. “ Your Honour, there are a
hundred and seven men and boys now dying up at the
North Valley mine. They are being murdered, and I am
trying to save their lives!”
“ Young man,” said the Judge, “I have an urgent en-
gagement down the street."
“Very well,” replied Hal, “I will walk with you and
tell you as you go." Nor did he give “His Honour” a
chance to say whether this arrangement was pleasing to
him; he set out by his side, with Pete Hanun and the
other two men some ten yards in the rear.
Hal told the story as he had told it to Mr. Richard
Parker; and he received the same response. Such mat-
ters were not easy to decide about; they were hardly a
Judge's business. There was a state official on the ground,
and it was for him to decide if there was violation of
law.
Hal repeated his statement that a man who made a com-
plaint to this official had been thrown out of camp. “ And
I was thrown out also, your Honour."
“ What for?”
“Nobody told me what for.”
“ Tut, tut, young man! They don't throw men out
without telling them the reason!”
“But they do, your Honour! Shortly before that they
locked me up in jail, and held me for thirty-six hours with-
out the slightest show of authority.”
“ You must have been doing something!”
224
KING COAL
“What I had done was to be chosen by a committee of
miners to act as their check-weighman."
“ Their check-weighman?”
“Yes, your Honour. I am informed there's a law pro-
viding that when the men demand a check-weighman, and
offer to pay for him, the company must permit him to
inspect the weights. Is that correct?”
67 It is, I believe."
“ And there's a penalty for refusing?"
“ The law always carries a penalty, young man."
« They tell me that law has been on the statute-books
for fifteen or sixteen years, and that the penalty is from
twenty-five to five hundred dollars fine. It's a case about
which there can be no dispute, your Honour — the miners
notified the superintendent that they desired my services,
and when I presented myself at the tipple, I was refused
access to the scales; then I was seized and shut up in jail,
and finally turned out of the camp. I have made affidavit
to these facts, and I think I have the right to ask for war-
rants for the guilty men.”
“ Can you produce witnesses to your statements ?”
“I can, your Honour. One of the committee of miners,
John Edstrom, is now in Pedro, having been kept out of
his home, which he had rented and paid for. The other,
Mike Sikoria, was also thrown out of camp. There are
many others at North Valley who know all about it.”
There was a pause. Judge Denton for the first time
took a good look at the young miner at his side; and then
he drew his brows together in solemn thought, and his
voice became deep and impressive. “I shall take this mat-
ter under advisement. What is your name, and where do
you live?”
“ Joe Smith, your Honour. I'm staying at Edward Mac-
Kellar's, but I don't know how long I'll be able to stay there.
There are company thugs watching the place all the time."
“That's wild talk!” said the Judge, impatiently.
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
225
three of who helped head you will see his head. « that I am
But the por-Jour head vive me one o
bave beeh Judge die in will see the North Vallenge Pete
“ As it happens,” said Hal, “ we are being followed by
three of them at this moment -- one of them the same Pete
Hanun who helped to drive me out of North Valley. If
you will turn your head you will see them behind us.”
But the portly Judge did not turn his head.
“I have been informed,” Hal continued, “that I am
taking my life in my hands by my present course of action.
I believe I'm entitled to ask for protection.”
“ What do you want me to do?"
“ To begin with, I'd like you to cause the arrest of the
men who are shadowing me."
“It's not my business to cause such arrests. You
should apply to a policeman."
“I don't see any policeman. Will you tell me where to
find one?"
His Honour was growing weary of such persistence.
“ Young man, what's the matter with you is that you've
been reading dime novels, and they've got on your nerves!”
“But the men are right behind me, your Honour!
Look at them!”
“ I've told you it's not my business, young man!”
“But, your Honour, before I can find a policeman I
may be dead!”
The other appeared to be untroubled by this possi-
bility.
“ And, your Honour, while you are taking these mat-
ters under advisement, the men in the mine will be dead!”
Again there was no reply.
“I have some affidavits here," said Hal. “Do you
wish them?"
“ You can give them to me if you want to," said the
other.
“You don't ask me for them ? "
“I haven't yet.”
“ Then just one more question — if you will pardon
me, your Honour. Can you tell me where I can find an
226
KING COAL
honest lawyer in this town — a man who might be willing
to take a case against the interests of the General Fuel
Company?"
There was a silence - a long, long silence. Judge
Denton, of the firm of Denton and Vagleman, stared
straight in front of him as he walked. Whatever compli-
cated processes might have been going on inside his mind,
his judicial features did not reveal them. “No, young
man,” he said at last, “it's not my business to give you
information about lawyers." And with that the judge
turned on his heel and went into the Elks' Club.
Judge Dendowed as befo-twenty feet
$ 7. Hal stood and watched the portly figure until it
disappeared; then he turned back and passed the three de-
tectives, who stopped. He stared at them, but made no
sign, nor did they. Some twenty feet behind him, they
fell in and followed as before.
Judge Denton had suggested consulting a policeman;
and suddenly Hal noticed that he was passing the City
Hall, and it occurred to him that this matter of his being
shadowed might properly be brought to the attention of
the mayor of Pedro. He wondered what the chief magis-
trate of such a “hell of a town” might be like; after due
inquiry, he found himself in the office of Mr. Ezra Per-
kins, a mild-mannered little gentleman who had been in
the undertaking-business, before he became a figure-head
for the so-called “Democratic” machine.
He sat pulling nervously at a neatly trimmed brown
beard, trying to wriggle out of the dilemma into which
Hal put him. Yes, it might possibly be that a young
miner was being followed on the streets of the town; but
whether or not this was against the law depended on the
circumstances. If he had made a disturbance in North
Valley, and there was reason to believe that he might be
intending trouble, doubtless the company was keeping track
A
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
227
of him. But Pedro was a law-abiding place, and he
would be protected in his rights so long as he behaved
himself.
Hal replied by citing what MacKellar had told him
about men being slugged on the streets in broad day-light.
To this Mr. Perkins answered that there was uncertainty
about the circumstances of these cases; anyhow, they had
happened before he became mayor. His was a reform ad-
ministration, and he had given strict orders to the Chief
of Police that there were to be no more incidents of the
sort.
“Will you go with me to the Chief of Police and give
him orders now?" demanded Hal.
“I do not consider it necessary,” said Mr. Perkins.
He was about to go home, it seemed. He was a pitiful
little rodent, and it was a shame to torment him; but Hal
stuck to him for ten or twenty minutes longer, arguing and
insisting — until finally the little rodent bolted for the
door, and made his escape in an automobile. “You can
go to the Chief of Police yourself,” were his last words,
as he started the machine; and Hal decided to follow the
suggestion. He had no hope left, but he was possessed
by a kind of dogged rage. He would not let go!
Upon inquiry of a passer-by, he learned that police
headquarters was in this same building, the entrance be-
ing just round the corner. He went in, and found a man
in uniform writing at a desk, who stated that the Chief
had “ stepped“ down the street.” Hal sat down to wait,
by a window through which he could look out upon the
three gunmen loitering across the way.
The man at the desk wrote on, but now and then he
eyed the young miner with that hostility which American
policemen cultivate toward the lower classes. To Hal this
was a new phenomenon, and he found himself suddenly
wishing that he had put on MacKellar's clothes. Per-
haps a policeman would not have noticed the misfit!
228
KING COAL
The Chief came in. His blue uniform concealed a
burly figure, and his moustache revealed the fact that his
errand down the street had had to do with beer. “Well,
young fellow?” said he, fixing his gaze upon Hal.
Hal explained his errand.
“What do you want me to do?" asked the Chief, in a
decidedly hostile voice.
“I want you to make those men stop following me."
“How can I make them stop?”
“You can lock them up, if necessary. I can point
them out to you, if you'll step to the window."
But the other made no move. “I reckon if they're fol-
lerin' you, they've got some reason for it. Have you been
makin' trouble in the camps?” He asked this question
with sudden force, as if it had occurred to him that it
might be his duty to lock up Hal.
"No," said Hal, speaking as bravely as he could -
“no indeed, I haven't been making trouble. I've only
been demanding my rights."
“How do I know what you been doin'?”
The young miner was willing to explain, but the other
cut him short. “You behave yourself while you're in this
town, young feller, d’you see? If you do, nobody'll bother
you.”
“But,” said Hal, “ they've already threatened to bother
me.”
“What did they say?"
“ They said something might happen to me on a dark
night."
« Well, so it might — you might fall down and hit your
nose."
The Chief was pleased with this wit, but only for a
moment. “Understand, young feller, we'll give you your
rights in this town, but we got no love for agitators, and
we don't pretend to have. See?"
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
229
“You call a man an agitator when he demands his legal
rights?"
"I ain't got time to argue with you, young feller. It's
no easy matter keepin' order in coal-camps, and I ain't
going to meddle in the business. I reckon the company
detectives has got as good a right in this town as you."
There was a pause. Hal saw that there was nothing
to be gained by further discussion with the Chief. It
was his first glimpse of the American policeman as he ap-
pears to the labouring man in revolt, and he found it an
illuminating experience. There was dynamite in his
heart as he turned and went out to the street; nor was the
amount of the explosive diminished by the mocking grins
which he noted upon the faces of Pete Hanun and the other
two husky-looking personages.
$ 8. Hal judged that he had now exhausted his legal
resources in Pedro; the Chief of Police had not suggested
any one else he might call upon, so there seemed nothing he
could do but go back to MacKellar's and await the hour of
the night train to Western City. He started to give his
guardians another run, by way of working off at least a
part of his own temper; but he found that they had antici-
pated this difficulty. An automobile came up and the
three of them stepped in. Not to be outdone, Hal en-
gaged a hack, and so the expedition returned in pomp to
MacKellar's.
Hal found the old cripple in a state of perturbation.
All that afternoon his telephone had been ringing; one per-
son after another had warned him — some pleading with
him, some abusing him. It was evident that among them
were people who had a hold on the old man; but he was
undaunted, and would not hear of Hal's going to stay at
the hotel until train-time.
230
KING COAL
Then Keating returned, with an exciting tale to tell.
Schulman, general manager of the “G. F. C.," had been
sending out messengers to hunt for him, and finally had
got him in his office, arguing and pleading, cajoling and
denouncing him by turns. He had got Cartwright on the
telephone, and the North Valley superintendent had la-
boured to convince Keating that he had done the company
a wrong. Cartwright had told a story about Hal's efforts
to hold up the company for money. “Incidentally,” said
Keating," he added the charge that you had seduced a girl
in his camp."
Hal stared at his friend. “Seduced a girl!” he ex-
claimed.
“That's what he said; a red-headed Irish girl.”
“Well, damn his soul!"
There followed a silence, broken by a laugh from Billy.
“Don't glare at me like that. I didn't say it!"
But Hal continued to glare, nevertheless. “The dirty
little skunk!"
“Take it easy, sonny," said the fat man, soothingly.
“It's quite the usual thing, to drag in a woman. It's so
easy -- for of course there always is a woman. There's
one in this case, I suppose ?"
“ There's a perfectly decent girl.”
“ But you've been friendly with her? You've been
walking around where people can see you?”
“ Yes."
“So you see, they've got you. There's nothing you can
do about a thing of that sort.”
“You wait and see!” Hal burst out.
The other gazed curiously at the angry young miner.
“What'll you do? Beat him up some night?"
But the young miner did not answer. “You say he
described the girl ?”.
“He was kind enough to say she was a red-headed
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
231
MY
beauty, and with no one to protect her but a drunken
father. I could understand that must have made it pretty
hard for her, in one of these coal-camps." There was a
pause. “But see here," said the reporter, “ you'll only
do the girl harm by making a row. Nobody believes that
women in coal-camps have any virtue. God knows, I
don't see how they do have, considering the sort of men
who run the camps, and the power they have.”
“Mr. Keating," said Hal,“ did you believe what Cart-
wright told you ?”
Keating had started to light a cigar. He stopped in
the middle, and his eyes met Hal's. “My dear boy," said
he, “I didn't consider it my business to have an opinion.”
“But what did you say to Cartwright?”
“Ah! That's another matter. I said that I'd been a
newspaper man for a good many years, and I knew his
game.”
“ Thank you for that,” said Hal. “You may be in-
terested to know there isn't any truth in the story."
“ Also you may be interested to know that I shan't drop
the matter until I've made Cartwright take it back.”
“Well, you're an enterprising cuss ! ” laughed the re-
porter. “Haven't you got enough on your hands, with
all the men you're going to get out of the mine?”
§ 9. Billy Keating went out again, saying that he knew
a man who might be willing to talk to him on the quiet,
and give him some idea what was going to happen to Hal.
Meantime Hal and Edstrom sat down to dinner with Mac-
Kellar. The family were afraid to use the dining-room
of their home, but spread a little table in the upstairs hall.
The distress of mind of MacKellar's wife and daughter
was apparent, and this brought home to Hal the terror of
232
KING COAL
life in this coal-country. Here were American women,
in an American home, a home with evidences of refinement
and culture; yet they felt and acted as if they were Rus-
sian conspirators, in terror of Siberia and the knout !
The reporter was gone a couple of hours; when he came
back, he brought news. “You can prepare for trouble,
young fellow."
“Why so?”
" Jeff Cotton's in town."
“How do you know?”
“I saw him in an automobile. If he left North Valley
at this time, it was for something serious, you may be
sure.”
“What does he mean to do?”
“There's no telling. He may have you slugged; he
may have you run out of town and dumped out in the
desert; he may just have you arrested."
Hal considered for a moment. “For slander ? "
“ Or for vagrancy; or on suspicion of having robbed a
bank in Texas, or murdered your great-grandmother in
Tasmania. The point is, he'll keep you locked up till
this trouble has blown over.”
“Well,” said Hal, “I don't want to be locked up. I
want to go up to Western City. I'm waiting for the
train."
“You may have to wait till morning,” replied Keating.
“ There's been trouble on the railroad - a freight-car
broke down and ripped up the track; it'll be some time be-
fore it's clear.”
They discussed this new problem back and forth. Mac-
Kellar wanted to get in half a dozen friends and keep
guard over Hal during the night; and Hal had about
agreed to this idea, when the discussion was given a new
turn by a chance remark of Keating's. “Somebody else
is tied up by the railroad accident. The Coal King's
son!”
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
233
“ The Coal King's son?” echoed Hal.
“Young Percy Harrigan. He's got a private car here
- or rather a whole train. Think of it -- dining-car,
drawing-room car, two whole cars with sleeping apart-
ments! Wouldn't you like to be a son of the Coal
King?"
“ Has he come on account of the mine-disaster ?”
“Mine-disaster ?" echoed Keating. “I doubt if he's
heard of it. They've been on a trip to the Grand Canyon,
I was told; there's a baggage-car with four automo-
biles."
“Is Old Peter with them?"
“No, he's in New York. Percy's the host. He's got
one of his automobiles out, and was up in town — two
other fellows and some girls."
“Who's in his party?"
“I couldn't find out. You can see, it might be a story
for the Gazette — the Coal King's son, coming by
chance at the moment when a hundred and seven of his
serfs are perishing in the mine! If I could only have got
him to say a word about the disaster! If I could even
have got him to say he didn't know about it!”
“Did you try ?
“What am I a reporter for?"
“What happened?"
“Nothing happened; except that he froze me stiff.”
“Where was this?”.
“On the street. They stopped at a drug-store, and I
stepped up. “Is this Mr. Percy Harrigan?' He was
looking into the store, over my head. "I'm a reporter,' I
said, 'and I'd like to ask you about the accident up at
North Valley. “Excuse me,' he said, in a tone - gee, it
makes your blood cold to think of it! “Just a word,
I pleaded. “I don't give interviews,' he answered; and
that was all — he continued looking over my head, and
everybody else staring in front of them. They had turned
234
KING COAL
spring-time up in - soft" all those that
to ice at my first word. If ever I felt like a frozen
worm!”
There was a pause.
“ Ain't it wonderful,” reflected Billy, “how quick you
can build up an aristocracy! When you looked at that
car, the crowd in it and the airs they wore, you'd think
they'd been running the world since the time of William
the Conqueror. And Old Peter came into this country
with a pedlar's pack on his shoulders ! ”
“We're hustlers here," put in MacKellar.
“We'll hustle all the way to hell in a generation more,”
said the reporter. Then, after a minute, "Say, but there's
one girl in that bunch that was the real thing! She sure
did get me! You know all those fluffy things they do
themselves up in - soft and fuzzy, makes you think of
spring-time orchards. This one was exactly the colour of
apple blossoms.”
* You're susceptible to the charms of the ladies ? ” in-
quired Hal, mildly.
“I am," said the other. “I know it's all fake, but just
the same, it makes my little heart go pit-a-pat. I always
want to think they're as lovely as they look.”
Hal's smile became reminiscent, and he quoted:
“Oh Liza-Ann, come out with me,
The moon is a-shinin' in the monkey-puzzle tree! ”
Then he stopped, with a laugh. “Don't wear your
heart on your sleeve, Mr. Keating. She wouldn't be above
taking a peck at it as she passed.”
“ At me? A worm of a newspaper reporter?”
“At you, a man!” laughed Hal. “I wouldn't want to
accuse the lady of posing; but a lady has her rôle in life,
and has to keep her hand in."
There was a pause. The reporter was looking at the
young miner with sudden curiosity. “See here," he re-
marked, “I've been wondering about you. How do you
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
235
come to know so much about the psychology of the leisure
class?"
“I used to have money once," said Hal. “My family's
gone down as quickly as the Harrigans have come up."
§ 10. Hal went on to question Keating about the
apple-blossom girl. “Maybe I could guess who she is.
What colour was her hair?”
“ The colour of molasses taffy when you've pulled it,"
said Billy; “but all fluffy and wonderful, with star-dust
in it. Her eyes were brown, and her cheeks pink and
cream."
“She had two rows of pearly white teeth, that flashed at
you when she smiled ?"
“ She didn't smile, unfortunately.”
“ Then her brown eyes gazed at you, wide open, full of
wonder?”
“Yes, they did — only it was into the drug-store win-
dow."
“Did she wear a white hat of soft straw, with a green
and white flower garden on it, and an olive green veil, and
maybe cream white ribbons ?”
By George, I believe you've seen her!” exclaimed the
reporter.
**Maybe," said Hal. “Or maybe I'm describing the
girl on the cover of one of the current magazines ! " He
smiled; but then, seeing the other's curiosity,“ Seriously,
I think I do know your young lady. If you announce
that Miss Jessie Arthur is a member of the Harrigan
party, you won't be taking a long chance.”
“I can't afford to take any chance at all,” said the
reporter. “You mean Robert Arthur's daughter?”
"Heiress-apparent of the banking business of Arthur
and Sons," said Hal. “It happens I know her by sight.”
“How's that?”
236
KING COAL
“I worked in a grocery-store where she used to come.”.
“ Whereabouts ?"
“Peterson and Company, in Western City."
“Oho! And you used to sell her candy."
“ Stuffed dates."
“And your little heart used to go pit-a-pat, so that
you could hardly count the change ? ”
“ Gave her too much, several times !”
“And you wondered if she was as good as she was beau-
tiful! One day you were thrilled with hope, the next you
were cynical and bitter — till at last you gave up in de-
spair, and ran away to work in a coal-mine!”
They laughed, and MacKellar and Edstrom joined in.
But suddenly Keating became serious again. “I ought
to be away on that story!” he exclaimed. “I've got to
get something out of that crowd about the disaster. Think
what copy it would make!”
“But how can you do it?”
“I don't know; I only know I ought to be trying. I'll
hang round the train, and maybe I can get one of the
porters to talk."
"Interview with the Coal King's porter!” chuckled
Hal. “How it feels to make up a multi-millionaire's
bed!”
“How it feels to sell stuffed dates to a banker's daugh-
ter!” countered the other.
But suddenly it was Hal's turn to become serious.
“Listen, Mr. Keating," said he, “why not let me inter-
so young Harrigan, said he, ton to become se
“Yes! I'm the proper person — one of his miners !
I help to make his money for him, don't I ? I'm the one
to tell him about North Valley.”
Hal saw the reporter staring at him in sudden excite-
ment; he continued: “I've been to the District Attorney,
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL 237
the Justice of the Peace, the District Judge, the Mayor
and the Chief of Police. Now, why shouldn't I go to the
Owner ? "
“By thunder!” cried Billy. “I believe you'd have the
nerve!”
“I believe I would,” replied Hal, quietly.
The other scrambled out of his chair, wild with delight.
“I dare you!” he exclaimed.
“I'm ready,” said Hal.
“ You mean it?"
“Of course I mean it."
“ In that costume?"
“ Certainly. I'm one of his miners."
“But it won't go," cried the reporter. “You'll stand
no chance to get near him unless you're well dressed.”
“ Are you sure of that? What I've got on might
be the garb of a railroad-hand. Suppose there was some-
thing out of order in one of the cars — the plumbing, for
example ? "
“But you couldn't fool the conductor or the porter."
“I might be able to. Let's try it.”
There was a pause, while Keating thought. “The
truth is," he said, “it doesn't matter whether you succeed
or not — it's a story if you even make the attempt. The
Coal King's son appealed to by one of his serfs! The
hard heart of Plutocracy rejects the cry of Labour!”
“Yes,” said Hal, “but I really mean to get to him.
Do you suppose he's got back to the train yet ? "
- They were starting to it when I left."
“And where is the train ?".
“ Two or three hundred yards east of the station, I was
told.”
MacKellar and Edstrom had been listening enthralled
to this exciting conversation. “That ought to be just back
of my house,” said the former.
238
KING COAL
+ 13
“It's a short train — four parlour-cars and a baggage-
car,” added Keating. “It ought to be easy to recog-
nise."
The old Scotchman put in an objection. “The diffi-
culty may be to get out of this house. I don't believe they
mean to let you get away to-night.”
:“By Jove, that's so !” exclaimed Keating. “We're
talking too much — let's get busy. Are they watching the
back door, do you suppose ?”
“ They've been watching it all day," said MacKellar.
“ Listen,” broke in Hal — “ I've an idea. They haven't
tried to interfere with your going out, have they, Mr. Keat-
ing?"
“No, not yet.”
“Nor with you, Mr. MacKellar?"
“No, not yet," said the Scotchman.
“Well,” Hal suggested, “suppose you lend me your
crutches?”
Whereat Keating gave an exclamation of delight.
« The very thing!"
“I'll take your over-coat and hat," Hal added. “I've
watched you get about, and I think I can give an imita-
tion. As for Mr. Keating, he's not easy to mistake."
“Billy, the fat boy!” laughed the other. “Come, let's
get on the job!”
“I'll go out by the front door at the same time," put in
Edstrom, his old voice trembling with excitement. “May-
be that'll help to throw them off the track."
$ 11. They had been sitting upstairs in MacKellar's
room. Now they rose, and were starting for the stairs,
when suddenly there came a ring at the front door bell.
They stopped and stared at one another. “There they
are!" whispered Keating.
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL 239
And MacKellar sat down suddenly, and held out his
crutches to Hal. “The hat and coat are in the front
hall,” he exclaimed. “Make a try for it!” His words
were full of vigour, but like Edstrom, his voice was
trembling. He was no longer young, and could not take
adventure gaily.
Hal and Keating ran downstairs, followed by Edstrom.
Hal put on the coat and hat, and they went to the back
door, while at the same time Edstrom answered the bell in
front.
The back door opened into a yard, and this gave, through
a side gate, into an alley. Hal's heart was pounding furi-
ously as he began to hobble along with the crutches. He
had to go at MacKellar's slow pace — while Keating, at
his side, started talking. He informed “Mr. MacKel-
lar, in a casual voice, that the Gazette was a newspaper
which believed in the people's cause, and was pledged to
publish the people's side of all public questions. Dis-
coursing thus, they went out of the gate and into the
alley.
A man emerged from the shadows and walked by them.
He passed within three feet of Hal, and peered at him,
narrowly. Fortunately there was no moon; Hal could
not see the man's face, and hoped the man could not see
his.
Meantime Keating was proceeding with his discourse.
“You understand, Mr. MacKellar,” he was saying,
“sometimes it's difficult to find out the truth in a situa-
tion like this. When the interests are filling their news-
papers with falsehoods and exaggerations, it's a tempta-
tion for us to publish falsehoods and exaggerations on the
other side. But we find in the long run that it pays best to
publish the truth, Mr. MacKellar — we can stand by it,
and there's no come-back."
Hal, it must be admitted, was not paying much atten-
tion to this edifying sermon. He was looking ahead, to
paper for us tº But we Mr. Mac
240
KING COAL
where the alley debouched onto the street. It was the
street behind MacKellar's house, and only a block from the
railroad-track.
He dared not look behind, but he was straining his ears.
Suddenly he heard a shout, in John Edstrom's voice.
“Run! Run!”
In a flash, Hal dropped the two crutches, and started
down the alley, Keating at his heels. They heard cries
behind them, and a voice, sounding quite near, com-
manded, “Halt!” They had reached the end of the
alley, and were in the act of swerving, when a shot
rang out and there was a crash of glass in a house beyond
them on the far side of the street.
Farther on was a vacant lot with a path running across
it. Following this, they dodged behind some shanties,
and came to another street — and so to the railroad
tracks. There was a long line of freight-cars before them,
and they ran between two of these, and climbing over the
couplings, saw a great engine standing, its headlight gleam-
ing full in their eyes. They sprang in front of it, and
alongside the train, passing a tender, then a baggage-car,
then a parlour-car.
“Here we are !” exclaimed Keating, who was puffing
like a bellows.
Hal saw that there were only three more cars to the
train; also, he saw a man in a blue uniform standing at
the steps. He dashed towards him. “Your car's on
fire!” he cried.
“What?” exclaimed the man. “Where?”
“Here!” cried Hal; and in a flash he had sprung past
the other, up the steps and into the car.
There was a long, narrow corridor, to be recognised as
the kitchen portion of a dining-car; at the other end of
this corridor was a swinging door, and to this Hal leaped.
He heard the conductor shouting to him to stop, but he
paid no heed. He slipped off his over-coat and hat; and
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
241
then, pushing open the door, he entered a brightly lighted
apartment — and the presence of the Coal King's son.
1
§ 12. White linen and cut glass of the dining-saloon
shone brilliantly under electric lights, softened to the eye
by pink shades. Seated at the tables were half a dozen
young men and as many young ladies, all in evening cos-
tume; also two or three older ladies. They had begun
the first course of their meal, and were laughing and chat-
ting, when suddenly came this unexpected visitor, clad in
coal-stained miner's jumpers. He was not disturbing in
the manner of his entry; but immediately behind him came
a fat man, perspiring, wild of aspect, and wheezing like
an old fashioned steam-engine; behind him came the con-
ductor of the train, in a no less evident state of agita-
tion. So, of course, conversation ceased. The young
ladies turned in their chairs, while several of the young
men sprang to their feet.
There followed a silence: until finally one of the young
men took a step forward. “What's this?” he demanded,
as one who had a right to demand.
Hal advanced towards the speaker, a slender youth,
correct in appearance, but not distinguished looking.
“Hello, Percy!” said Hal.
A look of amazement came upon the other's face. He
stared, but seemed unable to believe what he saw. And
then suddenly came a cry from one of the young ladies;
the one having hair the colour of molasses taffy when
you've pulled it — but all fluffy and wonderful, with star-
dust in it. Her cheeks were pink and cream, and her
brown eyes gazed, wide open, full of wonder. She wore a
dinner gown of soft olive green, with a cream white scarf
of some filmy material thrown about her bare shoulders.
She had started to her feet. “It's Hal!” she cried.
men took a had a right to the speaker inguished
242
KING COAL
“Hal Warner!” echoed young Harrigan. “Why,
what in the world —?”
He was interrupted by a clamour outside. “Wait a
moment,” said Hal, quietly. “I think some one else is
coming in."
The door was pushed violently open. It was pushed so
violently that Billy Keating and the conductor were
thrust to one side; and Jeff Cotton appeared in the en-
trance.
The camp-marshal was breathless, his face full of the
passion of the hunt. In his right hand he carried a re-
volver. He glared about him, and saw the two men he
was chasing; also he saw the Coal King's son, and the rest
of the astonished company. He stood, stricken dumb.
The door was pushed again, forcing him aside, and two
more men crowded in, both of them carrying revolvers in
their hands. The foremost was Pete Hanun, and he also
stood staring. The “breaker of teeth” had two teeth of
his own missing, and when his prize-fighter's jaw dropped
down, the deficiency became conspicuous. It was proba-
bly his first entrance into society, and he was like an over-
grown boy caught in the jam-closet.
Percy Harrigan's manner became distinctly imperious.
“ What does this mean?” he demanded.
It was Hal who answered. “I am seeking a crimi-
nal, Percy."
“What?” There were little cries of alarm from the
women.
“Yes, a criminal; the man who sealed up the mine."
“ Sealed up the mine?” echoed the other. “What do
you mean?”
“Let me explain. First, I will introduce my friends.
Harrigan, this is my friend Keating."
Billy suddenly realised that he had a hat on his head.
He jerked it off; but for the rest, his social instincts failed
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
243
him. He could only stare. He had not yet got all his
breath.
“ Billy's a reporter,” said Hal. “But you needn't
worry - he's a gentleman, and won't betray a confidence.
You understand, Billy.”
“Y — yes," said Billy, faintly.
“ And this," said Hal, "is Jeff Cotton, camp-marshal at
North Valley. I suppose you know, Percy, that the
North Valley mines belong to the 'G. F. C. Cotton, this
is Mr. Harrigan."
Then Cotton remembered his hat; also his revolver,
which he tried to get out of sight behind his back.
“And this," continued Hal, “is Mr. Pete Hanun, by
profession a breaker of teeth. This other gentleman,
whose name I don't know, is presumably an assistant-
breaker.” So Hal went on, observing the forms of social
intercourse, his purpose being to give his mind a chance
to work. So much depended upon the tactics he chose in
this emergency! Should he take Percy to one side and
tell him the story quietly, leaving it to his sense of jus-
tice and humanity? No, that was not the way one dealt
with the Harrigans! They had bullied their way to the
front; if anything were done with them, it would be by
force! If anything were done with Percy, it would be by
laying hold of him before these guests, exposing the situa-
tion, and using their feelings to coerce him!
The Coal King's son was asking questions again.
What was all this about? So Hal began to describe the
condition of the men inside the mine. “They have no
food or water, except what they had in their dinner-pails;
and it's been three days and a half since the explosion !
They are breathing bad air; their heads are aching, the
veins swelling in their foreheads; their tongues are crack-
ing, they are lying on the ground, gasping. But they are
waiting — kept alive by the faith they have in their friends
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on the surface, who will try to get to them. They dare
not take down the barriers, because the gases would kill
them at once. But they know the rescuers will come, so
they listen for the sounds of axes and picks. That is the
situation.”
Hal stopped and waited for some sign of concern from
young Harrigan. But no such sign was given. Hal
went on:
“ Think of it, Percy! There is one old man in that
mine, an Irishman who has a wife and eight children wait-
ing to learn about his fate. I know one woman who has
a husband and three sons in the mine. For three days and
a half the women and children have been standing at the
pit-mouth; I have seen them sitting with their heads sunk
upon their knees, or shaking their fists, screaming curses
at the criminal who is to blame.”
There was a pause. «The criminal ?" inquired
young Harrigan. “I don't understand!”
“You'll hardly be able to believe it; but nothing has
been done to rescue these men. The criminal has nailed
a cover of boards over the pit-mouth, and put tarpaulin
over it — sealing up men and boys to die!”
There was a murmur of horror from the diners.
“I know, you can't conceive such a thing. The reason
is, there's a fire in the mine; if the fan is set to working,
the coal will burn. But at the same time, some of the
passages could be got clear of smoke, and some of the men
could be rescued. So it's a question of property against
lives; and the criminal has decided for the property. He
proposes to wait a week, two weeks, until the fire has been
smothered; then of course the men and boys will be dead."
There was a silence. It was broken by young Harri-
gan. “Who has done this?"
“ His name is Enos Cartwright."
" But who is he?"
“ Just now when I said that I was seeking the crimi-
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
245
nal, I misled you a little, Percy. I did it because I
wanted to collect my thoughts." Hal paused: when he con-
tinued, his voice was sharper, his sentences falling like
blows. “The criminal I've been telling you about is the
superintendent of the mine — a man employed and put in
authority by the General Fuel Company. The one who is
being chased is not the one who sealed up the mine, but the
one who proposed to have it opened. He is being treated
as a malefactor, because the laws of the state, as well as
the laws of humanity, have been suppressed by the Gen-
eral Fuel Company; he was forced to seek refuge in your
car, in order to save his life from thugs and gunmen in the
company's employ!”
$ 13. Knowing these people well, Hal could measure
the effect of the thunderbolt he had hurled among them.
1
the virtues; he knew how he was offending them. If he
was to win them to the least extent, he must explain his
presence here - a trespasser upon the property of the
Harrigans.
“Percy," he continued, “you remember how you used
to jump on me last year at college, because I listened to
muck-rakers.' You saw fit to take personal offence at
it. You knew that their tales couldn't be true. But I
wanted to see for myself, so I went to work in a coal-
mine. I saw the explosion; I saw this man, Jeff Cot-
ton, driving women and children away from the pit-mouth
with blows and curses. I set out to help the men in the
mine, and the marshal rushed me out of camp. He told
me that if I didn't go about my business, something would
happen to me on a dark night. And you see - this is a
dark night!"
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KING COAL
Hal waited, to give young Harrigan a chance to grasp
this situation and to take command. But apparently
young Harrigan was not aware of the presence of the camp-
marshal and his revolver. Hal tried again:
“Evidently these men wouldn't have minded killing
me; they fired at me just now. The marshal still has the
revolver and you can smell the powder-smoke. So I took
the liberty of entering your car, Percy. It was to save
my life, and you'll have to excuse me.”
The Coal King's son had here a sudden opportunity to
be magnanimous. He made haste to avail himself of it.
“Of course, Hal,” he said. “It was quite all right to
come here. If our employés were behaving in such fash-
ion, it was without authority, and they will surely pay for
it.” He spoke with quiet certainty; it was the Harrigan
manner, and before it Jeff Cotton and the two mine-guards
seemed to wither and shrink.
“Thank you, Percy,” said Hal. “It's what I knew
you'd say. I'm sorry to have disturbed your dinner-
party -"
“Not at all, Hal; it was nothing of a party.”
“You see, Percy, it was not only to save myself, but
the people in the mine! They are dying, and every mo-
ment is precious. It will take a day at least to get to
them, so they'll be at their last gasp. Whatever's to be
done must be done at once.”
Again Hal waited — until the pause became awkward.
The diners had so far been looking at him; but now
they were looking at young Harrigan, and young Harrigan
felt the change.
“I don't know just what you expect of me, Hal. My
father employs competent men to manage his business, and
I certainly don't feel that I know enough to give them any
suggestions.” This again in the Harrigan manner; but
it weakened before Hal's firm gaze. “What can I do?”
“You can give the order to open the mine, to reverse the
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL 247
fan and start it. That will draw out the smoke and gases,
and the rescuers can go down."
"But Hal, I assure you I have no authority to give
such an order."
“You must take the authority. Your father's in the
East, the officers of the company are in their beds at
home; you are here!”
“But I don't understand such things, Hal! I don't
know anything of the situation - except what you tell me.
And while I don't doubt your word, any man may make
a mistake in such a situation.”
" Come and see for yourself, Percy! That's all I ask,
and it's easy enough. Here is your train, your engine
branch, and we can be at the mine in half an hour. Then
— let me take you to the men who know! Men who've
been working all their lives in mines, who've seen acci-
dents like this many times, and who will tell you the truth
— that there's a chance of saving many lives, and that the
chance is being thrown away to save some thousands of
dollars' worth of coal and timbers and track.”
“But even if that's true, Hal, I have no power!"
“If you come there, you can cut the red-tape in one
minute. What those bosses are doing is a thing that can
only be done in darkness !”
Under the pressure of Hal's vehemence, the Harrigan
manner was failing; the Coal King's son was becoming
a bewildered and quite ordinary youth. But there was a
power greater than Hal behind him. He shook his head.
<It's the old man's business, Hal. I've no right to butt
in!”
The other, in his desperate need, turned to the rest
of the party. His gaze, moving from one face to an-
other, rested upon the mazagine-cover countenance, with
the brown eyes wide open, full of wonder.
“ Jessię! What do you think about it?"
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KING COAL
The girl started, and distress leaped into her face.
“How do you mean, Hal?”
“ Tell him he ought to save those lives!”
The moments seemed ages as Hal waited. It was a
test, he realised. The brown eyes dropped. “I don't
understand such things, Hal!”
“But, Jessie, I am explaining them! Here are men
and boys being suffocated to death, in order to save a little
money. Isn't that plain?”
“But how can I know, Hal?”
“I'm giving you my word, Jessie. Surely I wouldn't
appeal to you unless I knew."
Still she hesitated. And there came a swift note of
feeling into his voice: “ Jessie, dear!”
As if under a spell, the girl's eyes were raised to his;
he saw a scarlet flame of embarrassment spreading over her
throat and cheeks.“ Jessie, I know - it seems an intolera-
ble thing to ask! You've never been rude to a friend.
But I remember once you forgot your good manners, when
you saw a rough fellow on the street beating an old drudge-
horse. Don't you remember how you rushed at him
like a wild thing! And now — think of it, dear, here are
old drudge-creatures being tortured to death; but not
horses — working-men!”
Still the girl gazed at him. He could read grief, dis-
may in her eyes; he saw tears steal from them, and stream
down her cheeks. “Oh, I don't know, I don't know !”
she cried; and hid her face in her hands, and began to sob
aloud.
$ 14. There was a painful pause. Hal's gaze travelled
on, and came to a grey-haired lady in a black dinner-
gown, with a rope of pearls about her neck. “Mrs. Cur-
tis! Surely you will advise him!”
The grey-haired lady started — was there no limit to his
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
249
impudence? She had witnessed the torturing of Jessie.
But Jessie was his fiancée; he had no such claim upon Mrs.
Curtis. She answered, with iciness in her tone: “I
could not undertake to dictate to my host in such a mat-
ter."
“Mrs. Curtis! You have founded a charity for the
helping of stray cats and dogs!” These words rose to
Hal's lips; but he did not say them. His eyes moved on.
Who else might help to bully a Harrigan?
Next to Mrs. Curtis sat Reggie Porter, with a rose in
the button-hole of his dinner-jacket. Hal knew the rôle
in which Reggie was there — a kind of male chaperon,
an assistant host, an admirer to the wealthy, a solace to
the bored. Poor Reggie lived other people's lives, his soul
perpetually a-quiver with other people's excitements, with
gossip, preparations for tea-parties, praise of tea-parties
past. · And always the soul was pushing; calculating,
measuring opportunities, making up in tact and elegance
for distressing lack of money. Hal got one swift glimpse
of the face; the sharp little black moustaches seemed
standing up with excitement, and in a flash of horrible in-
tuition Hal read the situation — Reggie was expecting
to be questioned, and had got ready an answer that would
increase his social capital in the Harrigan family bank!
Across the aisle sat Genevieve Halsey: tall, erect, built
on the scale of a statue. You thought of the ox-eyed
Juno, and imagined stately emotions; but when you came
to know Genevieve, you discovered that her mind was slow,
and entirely occupied with herself. Next to her was
Bob Creston, smooth-shaven, rosy-cheeked, exuding well-
being — what is called a “good fellow," with a wholesome
ambition to win cups for his athletic club, and to keep up
the score of his rifle-team of the state militia. Jolly Bob
might have spoken, out of his good heart; but he was in
love with a cousin of Percy's, Betty Gunnison, who sat
across the table from him and Hal saw her black eyes
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KING COAL
shining, her little fists clenched tightly, her lips pressed
white. Hal understood Betty -- she was one of the Har-
rigans, working at the Harrigan family task of making the
children of a pack-pedlar into leaders in the "younger
set”!
Next sat “ Vivie” Cass, whose talk was of horses and
dogs and such ungirlish matters; Hal had discussed social
questions in her presence, and heard her view expressed in
one flashing sentence _“If a man eats with his knife, I
consider him my personal enemy!” Over her shoulder
peered the face of a man with pale eyes and yellow mous-
taches — Bert Atkins, cynical and world-weary, whom the
papers referred to as a “club-man," and whom Hal's
brother had called a “tame cat." There was “ Dicky"
Everson, like Hal, a favourite of the ladies, but nothing
more; “ Billy” Harris, son of another “coal man";
Daisy, his sister; and Blanche Vagleman, whose father
was Old Peter's head lawyer, whose brother was the local
counsel, and publisher of the Pedro Star.
So Hal's eyes moved from face to face, and his mind
from personality to personality. It was like the unrolling
of a scroll; a panorama of a world he had half forgotten.
He had no time for reflection, but one impression came to
him, swift and overwhelming. Once he had lived in this
world and taken it as a matter of course. He had known
these people, gone about with them; they had seemed
friendly, obliging, a good sort of people on the whole.
And now, what a change! They seemed no longer
friendly! Was the change in them? Or was it Hal who
had become cynical — so that he saw them in this terri-
fying new light, cold, and unconcerned as the stars about
men who were dying a few miles away!
Hal's eyes came back to the Coal King's son, and he
discovered that Percy was white with anger. “I assure
you, Hal, there's no use going on with this. I have no
intention of letting myself be bulldozed.”.
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
251
Percy's gaze shifted with sudden purpose to the
camp-marshal. “Cotton, what do you say about this?
Is Mr. Warner correct in his idea of the situation?”
“You know what such a man would say, Percy!”
broke in Hal.
“I don't,” was the reply. “I wish to know. What
is it, Cotton?”
“He's mistaken, Mr. Harrigan.” The marshal's voice
was sharp and defiant.
“In what way?”
“ The company's doing everything to get the mine
open, and has been from the beginning."
“Oh!” And there was triumph in Percy's voice.
" What is the cause of the delay ? "
“ The fan was broken, and we had to send for a new
one. It's a job to set it up -such things can't be done in
an hour.”
Percy turned to Hal. “You see! There are two
opinions, at least ! ”
snapping at Hal. She would have said more, but Hal in-
terrupted, stepping closer to his host. “Percy,” he said,
in a low voice,“ come back here, please. I have a word
to say to you alone.”
There was just a hint of menace in Hal's voice; his
gaze went to the far end of the car, a space occupied only
by two negro waiters. These retired in haste as the young
men moved towards them; and so, having the Coal King's
son to himself, Hal went in to finish this fight.
§ 15. Percy Harrigan was known to Hal, as a college-
boy is known to his class-mates. He was not brutal, like
his grim old father; he was merely self-indulgent, as one
who had always had everything; he was weak, as one who
had never had to take a bold resolve. He had been brought
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KING COAL
up by the women of the family, to be a part of what they
called "society”; in which process he had been given high
notions of his own importance. The life of the Harri-
gans was dominated by one painful memory -- that of a
pedlar's pack; and Hal knew that Percy's most urgent
purpose was to be regarded as a real and true and free-
handed aristocrat. It was this knowledge Hal was using
in his attack.
He began with apologies, attempting to soothe the other's
anger. He had not meant to make a scene like this; it
was the gunmen who had forced it, putting his life in
danger. It was the very devil, being chased about at
night and shot at! He had lost his nerve, really; he
had forgot what little manners he had been able to keep
as a miner's buddy. He had made a spectacle of himself;
good Lord yes, he realised how he must seem!
- And Hal looked at his dirty miner's jumpers, and
then at Percy. He could see that Percy was in hearty
agreement thus far — he had indeed made a spectacle of
himself, and of Percy too! Hal was sorry about this lat-
ter, but here they were, in a pickle, and it was certainly too
late now. This story was out there could be no sup-
pressing it! Hal might sit down on his reporter-friend,
Percy might sit down on the waiters and the con-
ductor and the camp-marshal and the gunmen -- but he
could not possibly sit down on all his friends! They
would talk about nothing else for weeks! The story would
be all over Western City in a day — this amazing, melo-
dramatic, ten-twenty-thirty story of a miner's buddy in the
private car of the Coal King's son!
“And you must see, Percy," Hal went on," it's the sort
of thing that sticks to a man. It's the thing by which
everybody will form their idea of you as long as you live !"
“I'll take my chances with my friends' criticism," said
the other, with some attempt at the Harrigan manner.
“You can make it whichever kind of story you choose,”
ter, but here this story was it down on
over West nothing else on all h;
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
253
continued Hal, implacably. “The world will say, He de-
cided for the dollars; or it will say, He decided for the
lives. Surely, Percy, your family doesn't need those par-
ticular dollars so badly! Why, you've spent more on this
one train-trip!”
And Hal waited, to give his victim time to calculate.
The result of the thinking was a question worthy of Old
Peter. “What are you getting out of this?".
“Percy,” said Hal, “ you must know I'm getting noth-
ing! If you can't understand it otherwise, say to yourself
that you are dealing with a man who's irresponsible. I've
seen so many terrible things — I've been chased around so
much by camp-marshals — why, Percy, that man Cotton
has six notches on his gun! I'm simply crazy!” And
into the brown eyes of this miner's buddy came a look wild
enough to convince a stronger man than Percy Harrigan.
“I've got just one idea left in the world, Percy — to save
those miners! You make a mistake unless you realise how
desperate I am. So far I've done this thing incog! I've
been Joe Smith, a miner's buddy. If I'd come out and
told my real name — well, maybe I wouldn't have made
them open the mine, but at least I'd have made a lot of
trouble for the G. F. C.! But I didn't do it; I knew what
a scandal it would make, and there was something I owed
my father. But if I see there's no other way, if it's a
question of letting those people perish, I'll throw every-
thing else to the winds. Tell your father that; tell him I
threatened to turn this man Keating loose and blow the
thing wide open --- denounce the company, appeal to the
Governor, raise a disturbance and get arrested on the
street, if necessary, in order to force the facts before the
public. You see, I've got the facts, Percy! I've been
there and seen with my own eyes. Can't you realise
that?"
The other did not answer, but it was evident that he
realised.
Felipe perish, I'll way, if it's a
threatened to the winds.
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KING COAL
“On the other hand, see how you can fix it, if you
choose. You were on a pleasure trip when you heard of
this disaster; you rushed up and took command, you
opened the mine, you saved the lives of your employés.
That is the way the papers will handle it.”
Hal, watching his victim intently, and groping for the
path to his mind, perceived that he had gone wrong.
Crude as the Harrigans were, they had learned that it is
not aristocratic to be picturesque.
“ All right then!” said Hal, quickly. “ If you prefer,
you needn't be mentioned. The bosses up at the camp
have the reporters under their thumbs, they'll handle the
story any way you want it. The one thing I care about is
that you run your car up and see the mine opened. Won't
you do it, Percy?”
Hal was gazing into the other's eyes, knowing that life
and death for the miners hung upon his nod. “Well?
What is the answer?”
“Hal,” exclaimed Percy, “my old man will give me
hell!"
“All right; but on the other hand, I'll give you hell;
and which will be worse ? "
Again there was a silence. « Come along, Percy! For
God's sake!” And Hal's tone was desperate, alarming.
And suddenly the other gave way. “ All right!”
Hal drew a breath. “But mind you !” he added.
“You're not going up there to let them fool you! They'll
try to bluff you out — they may go as far as to refuse to
obey you. But you must stand by your guns —- for, you
see, I'm going along, I'm going to see that mine open.
I'll never quit till the rescuers have gone down!”
“ Will they go, Hal?”
“ Will they go ? Good God, man, they're clamouring
for the chance to go! They've almost been rioting for it.
I'll go with them — and you, too, Percy — the whole
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
255
crowd of us idlers will go! When we come out, we'll
know something about the business of coal-mining!”
“ All right, I'm with you," said the Coal King's son.
§ 16. Hal never knew what Percy said to Cartwright
that night; he only knew that when they arrived at the
mine the superintendent was summoned to a consultation,
and half an hour later Percy emerged smiling, with the
announcement that Hal Warner had been mistaken all
along; the mine authorities had been making all possible
haste to get the fan ready, with the intention of opening
the mine at the earliest moment. The work was now com-
pleted, and in an hour or two the fan was to be started, and
by morning there would be a chance of rescuers getting in.
Percy said this so innocently that for a moment Hal won-
dered if Percy himself might not believe it. Hal's posi-
tion as guest of course required that he should graciously
pretend to believe it, consenting to appear as a fool before
the rest of the company.
Percy invited Hal and Billy Keating to spend the night
in the train; but this Hal declined. He was too dirty, he
said; besides, he wanted to be up at daylight, to be one of
the first to go down the shaft. Percy answered that the
superintendent had vetoed this proposition - he did not
want any one to go down but experienced men, who could
take care of themselves. When there were so many on
hand ready and eager to go, there was no need to imperil
the lives of amateurs.
At the risk of seeming ungracious, Hal declared that he
would “hang around" and see them take the cover off
the pit-mouth. There were mourning parties in some of
the cabins, where women were gathered together who could
not sleep, and it would be an act of charity to take them
the good news.
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KING COAL
in pretty soon forut, she rushhat they res
Hal and Keating set out; they went first to the Raf-
ferties', and saw Mrs. Rafferty spring up and stare at
them, and then scream aloud to the Holy Virgin, waking
all the little Rafferties to frightened clamour. When
the woman had made sure that they really knew what they
were talking about, she rushed out to spread the news, and
so pretty soon the streets were alive with hurrying figures,
and a crowd gathered once more at the pit-mouth.
Hal and Keating went on to Jerry Minetti's. Out of a
sense of loyalty to Percy, Hal did no more than repeat
Percy's own announcement, that it had been Cartwright's
intention all along to have the mine opened. It was funny
to see the effect of this statement — the face with which
Jerry looked at Hal! But they wasted no time in dis-
cussion; Jerry slipped into his clothes and hurried with
them to the pit-mouth.
Sure enough, a gang was already tearing off the boards
and canvas. Never since Hal had been in North Valley
had he seen men working with such a will! Soon the
great fan began to stir, and then to roar, and then to sing;
and there was a crowd of a hundred people, roaring and
singing also.
It would be some hours before anything more could be
done; and suddenly Hal realised that he was exhausted.
He and Billy Keating went back to the Minetti cabin,
and spreading themselves a blanket on the floor, lay down
with sighs of relief. As for Billy, he was soon snoring;
but to Hal there came sudden reaction from all the excite
ment, and sleep was far from him.
An ocean of thoughts came flooding into his mind: the
world outside, his world, which he had banished deliber-
ately for several months, and which he had so suddenly
been compelled to remember! It had seemed so simple,
what he had set out to do that summer: to take another
name, to become a member of another class, to live its life
and think its thoughts, and then come back to his own
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
257
world with a new and fascinting adventure to tell about!
The possibility that his own world, the world of Hal
Warner, might find him out as Joe Smith, the miner's
buddy -- that was a possibility which had never come to
his mind. He was like a burglar, working away at a job
in darkness, and suddenly finding the room flooded with
light.
He had gone into the adventure, prepared to find things
that would shock him; he had known that somehow, some-
where, he would have to fight the “system.” But he had
never expected to find himself in the thick of the class-
war, leading a charge upon the trenches of his own associ-
ates. Nor was this the end, he knew; this war would not
be settled by the winning of a trench! Lying here in the
darkness and silence, Hal was realising what he had got
himself in for. To employ another simile, he was a man
who begins a flirtation on the street, and wakes up next
morning to find himself married.
It was not that he had regrets for the course he had
taken with Percy. No other course had been thinkable.
But while Hal had known these North Valley people for
ten weeks, he had known the occupants of Percy's car for
as many years. So these latter personalities loomed large
in his consciousness, and here in the darkness their
thoughts about him, whether actively hostile or passively
astonished, laid siege to the defences of his mind.
Particularly he found himself wrestling with Jessie
Arthur. Her face rose up before him, appealing, yearn-
ing. She had one of those perfect faces, which irre-
sistibly compel the soul of a man. Her brown eyes, soft
and shining, full of tenderness; her lips, quick to tremble
with emotion; her skin like apple-blossoms, her hair with
star-dust in it! Hal was cynical enough about coal-oper-
ators and mine-guards, but it never occurred to him that
Jessie's soul might be anything but what these bodily
charms implied. He was in love with her; and he was too
258
KING COAL
young, too inexperienced in love to realise that under-
neath the sweetness of girlhood, so genuine and so lovable,
might lie deep, unconscious cruelty, inherited and in-
stinctive — the cruelty of caste, the hardness of worldly
prejudice. A man has to come to middle age, and to suf-
fer much, before he understands that the charms of women,
those rare and magical perfections of eyes and teeth and
hair, that softness of skin and delicacy of feature, have
cost labour and care of many generations, and imply in-
evitably that life has been feral, that customs and conven-
tions have been murderous and inhuman.
Jessie had failed Hal in his desperate emergency. But
now he went over the scene, and told himself that the test
had been an unfair one. He had known her since child-
hood, and loved her, and never before had he seen an act
or heard a word that was not gracious and kind. But —
so he told himself — she gave her sympathy to those she
knew; and what chance had she ever had to know work-
ing-people?. He must give her the chance; he must com-
pel her, even against her will, to broaden her understand-
ing of life! The process might hurt her, it might mar the
unlined softness of her face, but nevertheless, it would be
good for her -- it would be a “growing pain " !
So, lying there in the darkness and silence, Hal found
himself absorbed in long conversation with his sweetheart.
He escorted her about the camp, explaining things to her,
introducing her to this one and that. He took others of
his private-car friends and introduced them to his North
Valley friends. There were individuals who had qualities
in common, and would surely hit it off! Bob Creston,
for example, who was good at a “song and dance ”- he
would surely be interested in “Blinky," the vaudeville
specialist of the camp! Mrs. Curtis, who liked cats,
would find a bond of sisterhood with old Mrs. Nagle,
who lived next door to the Minettis, and kept five i
And even Vivie Cass, who hated men who ate with their
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL 259
knives — she would be driven to murder by the table-
manners of Reminitsky's boarders, but she would take de-
light in “ Dago Charlie,” the tobacco-chewing mule which
had once been Hal's pet! Hal could hardly wait for day-
light to come, so that he might begin these efforts at social
amalgamation!
§ 17. Towards dawn Hal fell asleep; he was awakened
by Billy Keating, who sat up yawning, at the same time
grumbling and bewailing. Hal realised that Billy also
had discovered troubles during the night. Never in all
his career as a journalist had he had such a story; never
had any man had such a story — and it must be killed !
Cartwright had got the reporters together late the night
before and told them the news -- that the company had at
last succeeded in getting the mine ready to be opened; also
that young Mr. Harrigan was there in his private train,
prompted by his concern for the entombed miners. The
reporters would mention his coming, of course, but were
requested not to “play it up,” nor to mention the names
of Mr. Harrigan's guests. Needless to say they were not
told that the “buddy” who had been thrown out of camp
for insubordination had turned out to be the son of Ed-
ward S. Warner, the “ coal magnate."
A fine, cold rain was falling, and Hal borrowed an old
coat of Jerry's and slipped it on. Little Jerry clamoured
to go with him, and after some controversy Hal wrapped
him in a shawl and slung him onto his shoulder. It was
barely daylight, but already the whole population of the
village was on hand at the pit-mouth. The helmet-men
had gone down to make tests, so the hour of final revela-
tion was at hand. Women stood with wet shawls about
their hunched shoulders, their faces white and strained,
their suspense too great for any sort of utterance. A
ghastly thought it was, that while they were shuddering in
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as swung hen at below
the wet, their men below might be expiring for lack of a
few drops of water!
The helmet-men, coming up, reported that lights would
burn at the bottom of the shaft; so it was safe for men to
go down without helmets, and the volunteers of the first
rescue party made ready. All night there had been a clat-
tering of hammers, where the carpenters were working on
a new cage. Now it was swung from the hoist, and the
men took their places in it. When at last the hoist be-
gan to move, and the group disappeared below the surface
of the ground, you could hear a sigh from a thousand
throats, like the moaning of wind in a pine-tree. They
were leaving women and children above, yet not one of
these women would have asked them to stay -- such was
the deep unconscious bond of solidarity which made these
toilers of twenty nations one!
It was a slow process, letting down the cage; on account
of the danger of gas, and the newness of the cage, it was
necessary to proceed a few feet at a time, waiting for a
pull upon the signal-cord to tell that the men were all
right. After they had reached the bottom, there would
be more time, no one could say how long, before they came
upon survivors with signs of life in them. There were
bodies near the foot of the shaft, according to the reports
of the helmet-men, but there was no use delaying to bring
these up, for they must have been dead for days. Hal saw
a crowd of women clamouring about the helmet-men, try-
ing to find out if these bodies had been recognised. Also
he saw Jeff Cotton and Bud Adams at their old duty of
driving the women back.
The cage returned for a second load of men. There was
less need of caution now; the hoist worked quickly, and
group after group of men with silent, set faces, and pick-
axes and crow-bars and shovels in their hands, went down
into the pit of terror. They would scatter through the
workings, testing everywhere ahead of them with safety-
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
261
lamps, and looking for barriers erected by the imprisoned
men for defence against the gases. As they hammered
on these barriers, perhaps they would hear the signals of
living men on the other side; or they would break through
in silence, and find men too far gone to make a sound, yet
possibly with the spark of life still in them.
One by one, Hal's friends went down —“Big Jack”
David, and Wresmak, the Bohemian, Klowoski, the Pole,
and finally Jerry Minetti. Little Jerry waved his hand
from his perch on Hal's shoulder; while Rosa, who had
come out and joined them, was clinging to Hal's arm, si-
lent, as if her soul were going down in the cage. There
went blue-eyed Tim Rafferty to look for his father, and
black-eyed " Andy,” the Greek boy, whose father had per-
ished in a similar disaster years ago; there went Rovetta,
and Carmino, the pit-boss, Jerry's cousin. One by one
their names ran through the crowd, as of heroes marching
out to battle.
s clinging the ca father, per
§ 18. Looking about, Hal saw some of the guests of the
Harrigan party. There was Vivie Cass, standing under
an umbrella with Bert Atkins; and there was Bob Cres-
ton with Dicky Everson. These two had on mackin-
toshes and water-proof hats, and were talking to Cart-
wright; tall, immaculate men, who seemed like creatures
of another world beside the stunted and coal-smutted
miners.
Seeing Hal, they moved over to him. “Where did you
get the kid ? ” inquired Bob, his rosy, smooth-shaven face
breaking into a smile.
"I picked him up,” said Hal, giving Little Jerry a toss
and sliding him off his shoulder.
“Hello, kid!” said Bob.
And the answer came promptly, “Hello, yourself !”
Little Jerry knew how to talk American; he was a match
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for any society man! “My father's went down in that
cage,” said he, looking up at the tall stranger, his bright
black eyes sparkling.
“Is that so!” replied the other. “Why don't you
go?"
:
up?»
“My father'll get 'em out. He ain't afraid o' nothin',
my father!”
“What's your father's name?"
“Big Jerry."
“Oho! And what'll you be when you grow up?."
“I'm goin' to be a shot-firer.”
“In this mine?"
“ You bet not!”
“ Why not?”
Little Jerry looked mysterious. “I ain't tellin' all I
know," said he.
The two young fellows laughed. Here was education
for them! “Maybe you'll go back to the old country?”
put in Dicky Everson.
“No, sir-ee!” said Little Jerry. “I'm American.”
“Maybe you'll be president some day.”
“That's what my father says,” replied the little chap -
" president of a miners' union."
Again they laughed; but Rosa gave a nervous whisper
and caught at the child's sleeve. That was not the sort
of thing to say to mysterious and rich-looking strangers !
“ This is Little Jerry's mother, Mrs. Minetti," put in Hal,
by way of reassuring her.
“Glad to meet you, Mrs. Minetti," said the two young
men, taking off their hats with elaborate bows; they stared,
for Rosa was a pretty object as she blushed and made her
shy response. She was much embarrassed, having never
before in her life been bowed to by men like these.
And here they were greeting Joe Smith as an old friend,
and calling him by a strange name! She turned her black
Italian eyes upon Hal in inquiry, and he felt a flush creep-
1
er life been bouting Joe Smshe turned ash creep
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
263
ing over him. It was almost as uncomfortable to be found
out by North Valley as to be found out by Western City!
The men talked about the rescue-work, and what Cart-
wright had been telling of its progress. The fire was in
one of the main passages, and was burning out the timber-
ing, spreading rapidly under the draft from the reversed
fan. There could be little hope of rescue in this part of
the mine, but the helmet-men would defy the heat and
smoke in the burned out passages. They knew how likely
was the collapse of such portions of the mine; but also
they knew that men had been working here before the ex-
plosion. “I must say they're a game lot!” remarked
Dicky.
A group of women and children were gathered about to
listen, their shyness overcome by their torturing anxiety
for news. They made one think of women in war-time,
listening to the roar of distant guns and waiting for the
bringing in of the wounded. Hal saw Bob and Dicky
glance now and then at the ring of faces about them; they
were getting something of this mood, and that was a part
of what he had desired for them.
“Are the others coming out ?” he asked.
"I don't know," said Bob. “I suppose they're having
breakfast. It's time we went in.”
“Won't you come with us?” added Dicky.
“No, thanks,” replied Hal, “I've an engagement with
the kid here." And he gave Little Jerry's hand a squeeze.
“But tell some of the other fellows to come. They'll be
interested in these things.”
“ All right,” said the two, as they moved away.
§ 19. After allowing a sufficient time for the party in
the dining-car to finish breakfast, Hal went down to the
tracks, and induced the porter to take in his name to
Percy Harrigan. He was hoping to persuade Percy to see
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the village under other than company chaperonage; he
heard with dismay the announcement that the party
had arranged to depart in the course of a couple of
hours.
“But you haven't seen anything at all!” Hal pro-
tested.
“They won't let us into the mine,” replied the other.
“What else is there we can do ?”
“I wanted you to talk to the people and learn some-
thing about conditions here. You ought not to lose this
chance, Percy!”
“That's all right, Hal, but you might understand this
isn't a convenient time. I've got a lot of people with me,
and I've no right to ask them to wait."
“But can't they learn something also, Percy?"
“It's raining," was the reply;“ and ladies would hardly
care to stand round in a crowd and see dead bodies brought
out of a mine."
Hal got the rebuke. Yes, he had grown callous since
coming to North Valley; he had lost that delicacy of
feeling, that intuitive understanding of the sentiments of
ladies, which he would surely have exhibited a short time
earlier in his life. He was excited about this disaster; it
was a personal thing to him, and he lost sight of the fact
that to the ladies of the Harrigan party it was, in its de-
tails, merely sordid and repelling. If they went out in
the mud and rain of a mining-village and stood about star-
ing; they would feel that they were exhibiting, not human
compassion, but idle curiosity. The sights they would see
would harrow them to no purpose; and incidentally they
would be exposing themselves to distressing publicity. As
for offering sympathy to widows and orphans — well,
these were foreigners mostly, who could not understand
what was said to them, and who might be more embarrassed
than helped by the intrusion into their grief of persons
from an alien world.
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
265
The business of offering sympathy had been reduced to
a system by the civilisation which these ladies helped to
maintain; and, as it happened, there was one present who
was familiar with this system. Mrs. Curtis had already
acted, so Percy informed Hal; she had passed about a
subscription-paper, and in a couple of minutes over a thou-
sand dollars had been pledged. This would be paid by
check to the “Red Cross," whose agents would under-
stand how to distribute relief among such sufferers. So
the members of Percy's party felt that they had done the
proper and delicate thing, and might go their ways with a
quiet conscience.
“ The world can't stop moving just because there's been
a mine-disaster," said the Coal King's son. “People have
engagements they must keep.”
And he went on to explain what these engagements
were. He himself had to go to a dinner that evening, and
would barely be able to make it. Bert Atkins was to play
a challenge match at billiards, and Mrs. Curtis was to at-
tend a committee meeting of a woman's club. Also it was
the last Friday of the month; had Hal forgotten what that
meant ?
After a moment Hal remembered - the “ Young Peo-
ple's Night” at the country club! He had a sudden
vision of the white colonial mansion on the mountain-side,
with its doors and windows thrown wide, and the strains
of an orchestra floating out. In the ball-room the young
ladies of Percy's party would appear — Jessie, his sweet-
heart, among them — gowned in filmy chiffons and laces,
floating in a mist of perfume and colour and music. They
would laugh and chatter, they would flirt and scheme
against one another for the sovereignty of the ball-room ---
while here in North Valley the sobbing widows would be
clutching their mangled dead in their arms! How strange,
how ghastly it seemed! How like the scenes one read of
on the eve of the French Revolution !
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$ 20. Percy wanted Hal to come away with the party.
He suggested this tactfully at first, and then, as Hal did
not take the hint, he began to press the matter, showing
signs of irritation. The mine was open now -- what
more did Hal want? When Hal suggested that Cart-
wright might order it closed again, Percy revealed the
fact that the matter was in his father's hands. The super-
intendent had sent a long telegram the night before, and
an answer was due at any moment. Whatever the an-
swer ordered would have to be done.
There was a grim look upon Hal's face, but he forced
himself to speak politely. “If your father orders any-
thing that interferes with the rescuing of the men - don't
you see, Percy, that I have to fight him?”.
“ But how can you fight him?”
“With the one weapon I have - publicity.”
“ You mean —” Percy stopped, and stared.
“I mean what I said before -- I'd turn Billy Keating
loose and blow this whole story wide open.”
“Well, by God!” cried young Harrigan. “I must say
I'd call it damned dirty of you! You said you'd not do
it, if I'd come here and open the mine!” .
“But what good does it do to open it, if you close it
again before the men are out?" Hal paused, and when
he went on it was in a sincere attempt at apology.
“Percy, don't imagine I fail to appreciate the embarrass-
ments of this situation. I know I must seem a cad to you
- more than you've cared to tell me. I called you my
friend in spite of all our quarrels. All I can do is to
assure you that I never intended to get into such a position
as this."
“Well, what the hell did you want to come here for?
You knew it was the property of a friend -"
“That's the question at issue between us, Percy. Have
you forgotten our arguments? I tried to convince you
what it meant that you and I should own the things by
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
267
which other people have to live. I said we were ignorant
of the conditions under which our properties were worked,
we were a bunch of parasites and idlers. But you laughed
at me, called me a crank, an anarchist, said I swallowed
what any muck-raker fed me. So I said: “I'll go to one
of Percy's mines! Then, when he tries to argue with me,
I'll have him!' That was the way the thing started -
as a joke. But then I got drawn into things. I don't
want to be nasty, but no man with a drop of red blood in
his veins could stay in this place a week without wanting
to fight! That's why I want you to stay -- you ought, to
stay, to meet some of the people and see for yourself.”
« Well, I can't stay," said the other, coldly. “And
all I can tell you is that I wish you'd go somewhere else
to do your sociology."
“But where could I go, Percy ? Somebody owns every-
thing. If it's a big thing, it's almost certain to be some-
body we know.”
Said Percy, "If I might make a suggestion, you could
have begun with the coal-mines of the Warner Company."
Hal laughed. “You may be sure I thought of that,
Percy. But see the situation! If I was to accomplish
my purpose, it was essential that I shouldn't be known.
And I had met some of my father's superintendents in his
office, and I knew they'd recognise me. So I had to go to
some other mines."
“Most fortunate for the Warner Company," replied
Percy, in an ugly tone.
Hal answered, gravely, “Let me tell you, I don't intend
to leave the Warner Company permanently out of my so-
ciology.”
“Well," replied the other, "all I can say is that we pass
one of their properties on our way back, and nothing would
please me better than to stop the train and let you off !”
1
$ 21. Hal went into the drawing-room car. There
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were Mrs. Curtis and Reggie Porter, playing bridge with
Genevieve Halsey and young Everson. Bob Creston was
chatting with Betty Gunnison, telling her what he had
seen outside, no doubt. Bert Atkins was looking over the
morning paper, yawning. Hal went on, seeking Jessie
Arthur, and found her in one of the compartments of the
car, looking out of the rain-drenched window -- learning
about a mining-camp in the manner permitted to young
ladies of her class.
He expected to find her in a disturbed state of mind,
and was prepared to apologise. But when he met the look
of distress she turned upon him, he did not know just
where to begin. He tried to speak casually -- he had
heard she was going away. But she caught him by the
hand, exclaiming: “Hal, you are coming with us ! ”
He did not answer for a moment, but sat down by her.
“Have I made you suffer so much, Jessie?”
He saw tears start into her eyes. “Haven't you known
you were making me suffer? Here I was as Percy's guest;
and to have you put such questions to me! What could I
say? What do I know about the way Mr. Harrigan
should run his business?”
“Yes, dear," he said, humbly. “Perhaps I shouldn't
have drawn you into it. But the matter was so compli-
cated and so sudden. Can't you understand that, and
forgive me ? Everything has turned out so well!”
But she did not think that everything had turned out
well. “In the first place, for you to be here, in such a
plight! And when I thought you were hunting mountain-
goats in Mexico!”.
He could not help laughing; but Jessie had not even a
smile. “And then — to have you drag our love into the
thing, there before every one!"
“Was that really so terrible, Jessie?"
She looked at him with amazement. That he, Hal
Warner, could have done such a thing, and not realise how
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
269
terrible it was! To put her in a position where she had to
break either the laws of love or the laws of good-breeding!
Why, it had amounted to a public quarrel. It would be
the talk of the town -- there was no end to the embarrass-
ment of it!
“But, sweetheart!” argued Hal. “Try to see the
reality of this thing — think about those people in the
mine. You really must do that!”
She looked at him, and noticed the new, grim lines that
had come upon his youthful face. Also, she caught the
note of suppressed passion in his voice. He was pale and
weary looking, in dirty clothes, his hair unkempt and his
face only half washed. It was terrifying --- as if he had
gone to war.
“Listen to me, Jessie,” he insisted. “I want you to
know about these things. If you and I are ever to make
each other happy, you must try to grow up with me. That
was why I was glad to have you here --- you would have
a chance to see for yourself. Now I ask you not to go
without seeing.”
“But I have to go, Hal. I can't ask Percy Harrigan
to stay and inconvenience everybody!”
“ You can stay without him. You can ask one of the
ladies to chaperon you.”
She gazed at him in dismay. “Why, Hal! What a
thing to suggest !”
“Why so ?”
“ Think how it would look !"
“I can't think so much about looks, dear _"
She broke in: “ Think what Mamma would say !"
“She wouldn't like it, I know —”
“ She would be wild! She would never forgive either
of us. She would never forgive any one who stayed with
me. And what would Percy say, if I came here as his
guest, and stayed to spy on him and his father? Don't
you see how preposterous it would be?”
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KING COAL
Yes, he saw. He was defying all the conventions of
her world, and it seemed to her a course of madness. She
clutched his hands in hers, and the tears ran down her
cheeks.
“Hal," she cried, “I can't leave you in this dreadful
place! You look like a ghost, and a scarecrow, too! I
want you to go and get some decent clothes and come home
on this train.”
But he shook his head. “It's not possible, Jessie.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have a duty to do here. Can't you under-
stand, dear? All my life, I've been living on the labour
of coal-miners, and I've never taken the trouble to go near
them, to see how my money was got!”
“But, Hal! These aren't your people! They are Mr.
Harrigan's people!”
“Yes," he said, “but it's all the same. They toil, and
we live on their toil, and take it as a matter of course.”
“But what can one do about it, Hal?"
“One can understand it, if nothing else. And you see
what I was able to do in this case — to get the mine open."
“Hal,” she exclaimed, “I can't understand you!
You've become so cynical, you don't believe in any one!
You're quite convinced that these officials meant to murder
their working people! As if Mr. Harrigan would let his
mines be run that way!”
“Mr. Harrigan, Jessie? He passes the collection plate
at St. George's! That's the only place you've ever seen
him, and that's all you know about him.”
“I know what everybody says, Hal! Papa knows him,
and my brothers — yes, your own brother, too! Isn't it
true that Edward would disapprove what you're doing?”
“ Yes, dear, I fear so."
“And you set yourself up against them — against
everybody you know! Is it reasonable to think the older
people are all wrong, and only you are right? Isn't it at
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL 271
least possible you're making a mistake? Think about it
- honestly, Hal, for my sake!”
She was looking at him pleadingly; and he leaned for-
ward and took her hand.“ Jessie," he said, his voice
trembling, “I know that these working people are op-
pressed; I know it, because I have been one of them! And
I know that such men as Peter Harrigan, and even my own
brother, are to blame! And they've got to be faced by
some one — they've got to be made to see! I've come to
see it clearly this summer — that's the job I have to do!”
She was gazing at him with her wide-open, beautiful
eyes; underneath her protests and her terror, she was thrill-
ing with awe at this amazing madman she loved. “They
will kill you !" she cried.
“No, dearest --- you don't need to worry about that -
I don't think they'll kill me.”
“But they shot at you!”
“No, they shot at Joe Smith, a miner's buddy. They
won't shoot at the son of a millionaire — not in America,
Jessie."
“But some dark night —”
“Set your mind at rest,” he said, “ I've got Percy tied
up in this, and everybody knows it. There's no way they
could kill me without the whole story's coming out - and
so I'm as safe as I would be in my bed at home!”
$ 22. Hal was still possessed by his idea that Jessie
must be taught --- she must have knowledge forced upon
her, whether she would or no. The train would not start
for a couple of hours, and he tried to think of some use
he could make of that precious interval. He recalled that
Rosa Minetti had returned to her cabin to attend to her
baby. A sudden vision came to him of Jessie in that little
home. Rosa was sweet and good, and assuredly Little
Jerry was a “winner."
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KING COAL
« Sweetheart," he said, “I wish you'd come for a walk
with me."
“But it's raining, Hal!"
“It won't hurt you to spoil one dress; you have plenty."
“ I'm not thinking of that "
“I wish you'd come.”
“I don't feel comfortable about it, Hal. I'm here as
Percy's guest, and he mightn't like -
“I'll ask him if he objects to your taking a stroll,” he
suggested, with pretended gravity.,
"No, no! That would make it worse!” Jessie had
no humour whatever about these matters.
“Well, Vivie Cass was out, and some of the others are
going. He hasn't objected to that."
“I know, Hal. But he knows they're all right.”
Hal laughed. “Come on, Jessie. Percy won't hold
you for my sins! You have a long train journey before
you, and some fresh air will be good for you.”
She saw that she must make some concession to him, if
she was to keep any of her influence over him.
“All right," she said, with resignation, and disappeared
and returned with a heavy veil over her face, to conceal
her from prying reportorial eyes; also an equipment of
mackintosh, umbrella and overshoes, against the rain.
The two stole out of the car, feeling like a couple of crimi-
nals.
Skirting the edge of the throng about the pit-mouth, they
had their homes; he held her arm, steering her through
the miniature sloughs and creeks. It was thrilling to him
to have her with him thus, to see her sweet face and hear
her voice full of love. Many a time he had thought of her
here, and told her in his imagination of his experi-
ences !
He told her now — about the Minetti family, and how
he had met Big and Little Jerry on the street, and how
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
273
they had taken him in, and then been driven by fear to
let him go again. He told his check-weighman story, and
was telling how Jeff Cotton had arrested him; but they
came to the Minetti cabin, and the terrifying narrative
was cut short.
It was Little Jerry who came to the door, with the re-
mains of breakfast distributed upon his cheeks; he stared
in wonder at the mysteriously veiled figure. Entering,
they saw Rosa sitting in a chair nursing her baby. She
rose in confusion; but she did not quite like to turn her
back upon her guests, so she stood trying to hide her breast
as best she could, blushing and looking very girlish and
pretty.
Hal introduced Jessie, as an old friend who was in-
terested to meet his new friends, and Jessie threw back her
veil and sat down. Little Jerry wiped off his face at his
mother's command, and then came where he could stare at
this incredibly lovely vision.
“I've been telling Miss Arthur what good care you took
of me,” said Hal to Rosa. “She wanted to come and
thank you for it.”
“Yes," added Jessie, graciously. “Anybody who is
good to Hal earns my gratitude."
Rosa started to murmur something; but Little Jerry
broke in, with his cheerful voice, “Why you call him
Hal ? His name's Joe!”
“Ssh!” cried Rosa. But Hal and Jessie laughed —
and so the process of Americanising Little Jerry was con-
tinued.
“I've got lots of names," said Hal. “They called me
Hal when I was a kid like you."
“Did she know you then?” inquired Little Jerry.
“ Yes, indeed."
“Is she your girl?”
Rosa laughed shyly, and Jessie blushed, and looked
charming. She realised vaguely a difference in manners.
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KING COAL
These people accepted the existence of “girls," not con-
cealing their interest in the phenomenon.
“It's a secret," warned Hal. “Don't you tell on us ! ”
“I can keep a secret,” said Little Jerry. After a
moment's pause he added, dropping his voice,“ You gotta
keep secrets if you work in North Valley."
"You bet your life," said Hal.
"My father's a Socialist,” continued the other, ad-
dressing Jessie; then, since one thing leads on to an-
other, “My father's a shot-firer.”
“What's a shot-firer?” asked Jessie, by way of being
sociable.
“Jesus!” exclaimed Little Jerry. “Don't you know
nothin' about minin'?”
“No," said Jessie. “You tell me.”
“ You couldn't get no coal without a shot-firer," de-
clared Little Jerry. “You gotta get a good one, too, or
maybe you bust up the mine. My father's the best they
got."
“ What does he do?"
“Well, they got a drill — long, long, like this, all the
way across the room; and they turn it and bore holes in
the coal. Sometimes they got machines to drill, only we
don't like them machines, 'cause it takes the men's jobs.
When they got the holes, then the shot-firer comes and
sets off the powder. You gotta have ” and here Little
Jerry slowed up, pronouncing each syllable very care-
fully -—“per-miss-i-ble powder - what don't make no
flame. And you gotta know just how much to put in.
If you put in too much, you smash the coal, and the miner
raises hell; if you don't put in enough, you make too much
work for him, an' he raises hell again. So you gotta get
a good shot-firer.”
Jessie looked at Hal, and he saw that her dismay was
mingled with genuine amusement. He judged this a
good way for her to get her education, so he proceeded to
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
275
draw out Little Jerry on other aspects of coal-mining: on
short weights and long hours, grafting bosses and camp-
marshals, company-stores and boarding houses, Socialist
agitators and union organisers. Little Jerry talked freely
of the secrets of the camp. “It's all right for you to
know," he remarked gravely. “You're Joe's girl! ”
“ You little cherub!” exclaimed Jessie.
“ What's a cherub?" was Little Jerry's reply.
$ 23. So the time passed in a way that was pleasant.
Jessie was completely won by this little Dago mine-urchin,
in spite of all his frightful curse-words; and Hal saw that
she was won, and was delighted by the success of this ex-
periment in social amalgamation. He could not read
Jessie's mind, and realise that underneath her genuine de-
light were reservations born of her prejudices, the in-
stinctive cruelty of caste. Yes, this little mine chap was a
cherub, now; but how about when he grew big? He would
grow ugly and coarse-looking, in ten years one would not
know him from any other of the rough and dirty men of
the village. Jessie took the fact that common people grow
ugly as they mature as a proof that they are, in some deep
and permanent way, the inferiors of those above them.
Hal was throwing away his time and strength, trying to
make them into something which Nature had obviously not
intended them to be! She decided to make that point to
Hal on their way back to the train. She realised that he
had brought her here to educate her; like all the rest of
the world, she resented forcible education, and she was not
without hope that she might turn the tables and educate
Hal.
Pretty soon Rosa finished nursing the baby, and Jessie
remarked the little one's black eyes. This topic broke
down the mother's shyness, and they were chatting pleas-
antly, when suddenly they heard sounds outside which
ended them to mething which Natur strength, trying +
Preted the ther's
TT
276
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caused them to start up. It was a clamour of women's
voices; and Hal and Rosa sprang to the door. Just now
was a critical time, when every one was on edge for news.
Hal threw open the door and called to those outside,
“What is it?” There came a response, in a woman's
voice, “ They've found Rafferty!”
“Alive ? »
“Nobody knows yet."
" Where?”
“In Room Seventeen. Eleven of them — Rafferty,
and young Flanagan, and Johannson, the Swede.
They're near dead — can't speak, they say. They won't
let anybody near them.”
Other voices broke in; but the one which answered Hal
had a different quality; it was a warm, rich voice, un-
mistakably Irish, and it held Jessie's attention. “They've
got them in the tipple-room, and the women want to know
about their men, and they won't tell them. They're
beatin' them back like dogs!”
There was a tumult of weeping, and Hal stepped out
of the cabin, and in a minute or so he entered again, sup-
porting on his arm a girl, clad in a faded blue calico dress,
and having a head of very conspicuous red hair. She
seemed half fainting, and kept moaning that it was hor-
rible, horrible. Hal led her to a chair, and she sank into
it and hid her face in her hands, sobbing, talking inco-
herently between her sobs.
Jessie stood looking at this girl. She felt the in-
tensity of her excitement, and shared it; yet at the same
time there was something in Jessie that resented it. She
did not wish to be upset about things like this, which she
could not help. Of course these unfortunate people were
suffering; but what a shocking lot of noise the poor
thing was making! A part of the poor thing's excitement
was rage, and Jessie realised that, and resented it still
more. It was as if it were a personal challenge to her; the
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
277
same as Hal's fierce social passions, which so bewildered
and shocked her.
“ They're beatin' the women back like dogs!” the girl
repeated.
“ Mary,” said Hal, trying to soothe her, “the doctors
will be doing their best. The women couldn't expect to
crowd about them!”
“Maybe they couldn't; but that's not it, Joe, and ye
know it! They been bringin' up dead bodies, some they
found where the explosion was — blown all to pieces.
And they won't let anybody see them. Is that because of
the doctors ? No, it ain't! It's because they want to tell
lies about the number killed! They want to count four or
five legs to a man! And that's what's drivin' the women
crazy! I saw Mrs. Zamboni, tryin' to get into the shed,
and Pete Hanun caught her by the breasts and shoved her
back. 'I want my man!' she screamed. Well, what do
you want him for? He's all in pieces!' 'I want the
pieces!' 'What good'll they do you? Are you goin' to
eat him?'"
There were cries of horror now, even from Jessie; and
the strange girl hid her face in her hands and began to
sob again. Hal put his hand gently on her arm.
“Mary," he pleaded, “it's not so bad — at least they're
getting the people out.”
“How do ye know what they're doin'? They might be
sealin' up parts of the mine down below! That's what
makes it so horrible — nobody knows what's happenin'!
Ye should have heard poor Mrs. Rafferty screamin'. Joe,
it went through me like a knife. Just think, it's been half
an hour since they brought him up, and the poor lady can't
be told if her man is alive.”
§ 24. Hal stood for a few moments in thought. He
was surprised that such things should be happening while
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KING COAL
Percy Harrigan's train was in the village. He was con-
sidering whether he should go to Percy, or whether a hint
to Cotton or Cartwright would not be sufficient.
“Mary,” he said, in a quiet voice," you needn't distress
yourself so. We can get better treatment for the women,
I'm sure.”
But her sobbing went on. “What can ye do? They're
- bound to have their way!”
“No," said Hal. « There's a difference now. Be-
lieve me — something can be done. I'll step over and
have a word with Jeff Cotton.”
He started towards the door; but there came a cry:
“Hal!” 'It was Jessie, whom he had almost forgotten in
his sudden anger at the bosses.
At her protest he turned and looked at her; then he
looked at Mary. He saw the latter's hands fall from her
tear-stained face, and her expression of grief give way to
one of wonder. “Hal!”
“Excuse me," he said, quickly. “Miss Burke, this is
my friend, Miss Arthur.” Then, not quite sure if this
was a satisfactory introduction, he added, “ Jessie, this is
They “Miss B
my friends Factory inthur.”
Jessie's training could not fail in any emergency.
“Miss Burke,” she said, and smiled with perfect
politeness. But Mary said nothing, and the strained look
did not leave her face.
In the first excitement she had almost failed to notice
this stranger; but now she stared, and realisation grew
upon her. Here was a girl, beautiful with a kind of
beauty hardly to be conceived of in a mining-camp; re-
served, yet obviously expensive -- even in a mackintosh
and rubber-shoes. Mary was used to the expensiveness of
Mrs. O'Callahan, but here was a new kind of expensive-
ness, subtle and compelling, strangely unconscious. And
she laid claim to Joe Smith, the miner's buddy! She
called him by a name hitherto unknown to his North
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
279
Valley associates! It needed no word from Little Jerry
to guide Mary's instinct; she knew in a flash that here was
the “other girl.”
Mary was seized with sudden acute consciousness of the
blue calico dress, patched at the shoulder and stained with
grease-spots; of her hands, big and rough with hard labour;
of her feet, clad in shoes worn sideways at the heel, and
threatening to break out at the toes. And as for Jessie,
she too had the woman's instinct; she too saw a girl who
was beautiful, with a kind of beauty of which which she
did not approve, but which she could not deny -- the
beauty of robust health, of abounding animal energy.
Jessie was not unaware of the nature of her own charms,
having been carefully educated to conserve them; nor did
she fail to make note of the other girl's handicaps - the
patched and greasy dress, the big rough hands, the shoes
worn sideways. But even so, she realised that “Red
Mary” had a quality which she lacked — that beside this
wild rose of a mining-camp, she, Jessie Arthur, might pos-
sibly seem a garden flower, fragile and insipid.
She had seen Hal lay his hand upon Mary's arm, and
heard her speak to him. She called him Joe! And a
sudden fear had leaped into Jessie's heart.
Like many girls who have been delicately reared, Jessie
Arthur knew more than she admitted, even to herself.
She knew enough to realise that young men with ample
means and leisure are not always saints and ascetics.
Also, she had heard the remark many times made that
these women of the lower orders had “no morals." Just
what did such a remark mean? What would be the atti-
tude of such a girl as Mary Burke -- full-blooded and in-
tense, dissatisfied with her lot in life -- to a man of culture
and charm like Hal? She would covet him, of course; no
woman who knew him could fail to covet him. And she
would try to steal him away from his friends, from the
world to which he belonged, the future of happiness and
280
KING COAL
ease to which he was entitled. She would have powers -
dark and terrible powers, all the more appalling to Jessie
because they were mysterious. Might they possibly be
able to overcome even the handicap of a dirty calico dress,
of big rough hands and shoes worn sideways ?
These reflections, which have taken many words to ex-
plain, came to Jessie in one flash of intuition. She under-
stood now, all at once, the incomprehensible phenomenon
- that Hal should leave friends and home and career, to
come and live amid this squalor and suffering! She saw
the old drama of the soul of man, heaven and hell con-
tending for mastery of it; and she knew that she was
heaven, and that this " Red Mary” was hell.
She looked at Hal. He seemed to her so fine and true;
his face was frank, he was the soul of honourableness.
No, it was impossible to believe that he had yielded to
such a lure! If that had been the case, he would never
have brought her to this cabin, he would never have
taken a chance of her meeting the girl. No; but he
might be struggling against temptation, he might be in the
toils of it, and only half aware of it. He was a man, and
therefore blind; he was a dreamer, and it would be like
him to idealise this girl, calling her naïve and primitive,
thinking that she had no wiles! Jessie had come just in
time to save him! And she would fight to save him —
using wiles more subtle than those at the command of
any mining-camp hussy!
§ 25. It was the surging up in Jessie Arthur of that
instinctive self, the creature of hereditary cruelty, of the
existence of which Hal had no idea. She drew back, and
there was a quiet hauteur in her tone as she spoke. “Hal,
come here, please."
He came; and she waited until he was close enough for
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL
281
intimacy, and then said, “ Have you forgotten you have to
take me back to the train ?”
“Can't you come with me for a few minutes ?” he
pleaded. “It would have such a good effect if you did.”
“I can't go into that crowd," she answered; and sud-
denly her voice trembled, and the tears came into her
sweet brown eyes. “Don't you know, Hal, that I couldn't
stand such terrible sights? This poor girl — she is used
to them -- she is hardened! But I—I-oh, take me
away, take me away, dear Hal!” This cry of a woman
for protection came with a familiar echo to Hal's mind.
He did not stop to think --- he was moved by it instinct-
ively. Yes, he had exposed the girl he loved to suffering!
He had meant it for her own good, but even so, it was
cruel!
He stood close to her, and saw the love-light in her eyes;
he saw the tears, the trembling of her sensitive chin. She
swayed to him, and he caught her in his arms — and there,
before these witnesses, she let him press her to him, while
she sobbed and whispered her distress. She had been shy
of caresses hitherto, watched and admonished by an expe-
rienced mother; certainly she had never before made what
could by the remotest stretch of the imagination be con-
sidered an advance towards him. But now she made it,
and there was a cry of triumph in her soul as she saw that
he responded to it. He was still hers - and these low
people should know it, this “ other girl” should know it!
Yet, in the midst of this very exultation, Jessie Arthur
really felt the grief she expressed for the women of North
Valley; she really felt horror at the story of Mrs. Zam-
boni's “man”: so intricate is the soul of woman, so
puzzling that faculty, older than the ages, which enables
her to be hysterical, and at the same time to be guided in
the use of that hysteria by deep and infallible calcula-
tion.
But she made Hal realise that it was necessary for him
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to take her away. He turned to Mary Burke and said,
“Miss Arthur's train is leaving in a short time. I'll have
to take her back, and then I'll go to the pit-mouth with you
and see what I can do."
“Very well,” Mary answered; and her voice was hard
and cold. But Hal did not notice this. He was a man,
and not able to keep up with the emotions of one woman -
to say nothing of two women at the same time.
He took Jessie out, and all the way back to the train
she fought a desperate fight to get him away from here.
She no longer even suggested that he get decent clothing;
she was willing for him to come as he was, in his coal-
stained mining-jumpers, in the private train of the Coal
King's son. She besought him in the name of their af-
fection. She threatened him that if he did not come, this
might be the last time they would meet. She even broke
down in the middle of the street, and let him stand there
in plain sight of miners' wives and children, and of pos-
sible newspaper reporters, holding her in his arms and
comforting her.
Hal was much puzzled; but he would not give way. The
idea of going off in Percy Harrigan's train had come to
seen morally repulsive to him; he hated Percy Harrigan's
train, and Percy Harrigan also, he declared. And Jessie
saw that she was only making him unreasonable - that
before long he might be hating her. With her instinctive
savoir faire, she brought up his suggestion that she might
find some one to chaperon her, and stay with him at North
Valley until he was ready to come away.
Hal's heart leaped at that; he had no idea what was in
her mind — the certainty that no one of the ladies of the
Harrigan party would run the risk of offending her host
by staying under such circumstances.
“ You mean it, sweetheart?” he cried, happily.
She answered, “I mean that I love you, Hal.”
THE HENCHMEN OF KING COAL 283
“All right, dear!” he said. “We'll see if we can
arrange it.”
But as they walked on, she managed, without his realis-
ing it, to cause him to reflect upon the effect of her staying.
She was willing to do it, if it was what he wanted; but it
would injure, perhaps irrevocably, his standing with her
parents. They would telegraph her to come at once; and
if she did not obey, they would come by the next train.
So on, until at last Hal was moved to withdraw his own
suggestion. After all, what was the use of her staying, if
her mind was on the people at home, if she would simply
keep him in hot water? Before the conversation was over
Hal had become clear in his mind that North Valley was
no place for Jessie Arthur, and that he had been a fool to
think he could bring the two together.
She tried to get him to promise to leave as soon as the
last man had been brought out of the mine. He answered
that he intended to leave then, unless some new emer-
gency should arise. She tried to get an unqualified
promise; and failing in that, when they had nearly got to
the train she suddenly made a complete surrender. Let
him do what he pleased — but let him remember that she
loved him, that she needed him, that she could not do
without him. No matter what he might do, no matter
what people might say about him, she believed in him, she
would stand by him. Hal was deeply touched, and took
her in his arms again and kissed her tenderly under the
umbrella, in the presence of the wondering stares of sev-
eral urchins with coal-smutted faces. He pledged anew
his love for her, assuring her that no amount of interest in
mining-camps should ever steal him from her.
Then he put her on the train, and shook hands with the
departing guests. He was so very sombre and harassed-
looking that the young men forbore to “kid ” him as they
would otherwise have done. He stood on the station-plat-
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KING COAL.
form and saw the train roll away - and felt, to his own
desperate bewilderment, that he hated these friends of his
boyhood and youth. His reason protested against it; he
told himself there was nothing they could do, no reason on
earth for them to stay - and yet he hated them. They
were hurrying off to dance and flirt at the country club —
while he was going back to the pit-mouth, to try to get Mrs.
Zamboni the right to inspect the pieces of her "man”!
BOOK FOUR
THE WILL OF KING COAL
$ 1. The pit of death was giving up its secrets. The
hoist was busy, and cage-load after cage-load came up, with
bodies dead and bodies living and bodies only to be classi-
fied after machines had pumped air into them for a while.
Hal stood in the rain and watched the crowd and thought
that he had never witnessed a scene so compelling to pity
and terror. The silence that would fall when any one
appeared who might have news to tell! The sudden
shriek of anguish from some woman whose hopes were
struck dead! The moans of sympathy that ran through
the crowd, alternating with cheers at some good tidings,
shaking the souls of the multitude as a storm of wind
shakes a reed-field!
And the stories that ran through the camp - brought
up from the underground world — stories of incredible
sufferings, and of still more incredible heroisms! Men
who had been four days without food or water, yet had re-
sisted being carried out of the mine, proposing to stay and
help rescue others ! Men who had lain together in the
darkness and silence, keeping themselves aliye by the water
which seeped from the rocks overhead, taking turns lying
face upwards where the drops fell, or wetting pieces of
their clothing and sucking out the moisture! Members of
the rescue parties would tell how they knocked upon the
barriers, and heard the faint answering signals of the im-
prisoned men; how madly they toiled to cut through, and
how, when at last a little hole appeared, they heard the
cries of joy, and saw the eyes of men shining from the
darkness, while they waited, gasping, for the hole to grow
bigger, so that water and food might be passed in!
In some places they were fighting the fire. Long lines
of hose had been sent down, and men were moving forward
foot by foot, as the smoke and steam were sucked out ahead
287
288
KING COAL
their lives in their hands, yet they went without hesita-
tion. There was always hope of finding men in barri-
caded rooms beyond.
Hal sought out Jeff Cotton at the entrance to the tipple-
room, which had been turned into a temporary hospital.
It was the first time the two had met since the revelation in
Percy's car, and the .camp-marshal's face took on a rather
sheepish grin. “Well, Mr. Warner, you win," he re-
marked; and after a little arguing he agreed to permit a
couple of women to go into the tipple-room and make a list
of the injured, and go out and give the news to the crowd.
Hal went to the Minettis to ask Mary Burke to attend to
this; but Rosa said that Mary had gone out after he and
Miss Arthur had left, and no one knew where she was.
So Hal went to Mrs. David, who consented to get a couple
of friends, and do the work without being called a “com-
mittee.” “I won't have any damned committees ! ” the
camp-marshal had declared.
So the night passed, and part of another day. A clerk
from the office came to Hal with a sealed envelope, con-
taining a telegram, addressed in care of Cartwright. “I
most urgently beg of you to come home at once. It will
be distressing to Dad if he hears what has happened, and it
will not be possible to keep the matter from him for
long."
As Hal read, he frowned; evidently the Harrigans had
got busy without delay! He went to the office and tele-
phoned his answer. “ Am planning to leave in a day or
two. Trust you will make an effort to spare Dad until you
have heard my story."
This message troubled Hal. It started in his mind long
arguments with his brother, and explanations and apolo-
gies to his father. He loved the old man tenderly. What
à shame if some emissary of the Harrigans were to get to
him to upset him with misrepresentations!
THE WILL OF KING COAL
289
Also these ideas had a tendency to make Hal homesick;
they brought more vividly to his thoughts the outside
world, with its physical allurements - there being a limit
to the amount of unwholesome meals and dirty beds and
repulsive sights a man of refinement can force himself to
endure. Hal found himself obsessed by a vision of a club
dining-room, with odours of grilled steaks and hot rolls,
and the colours of salads and fresh fruits and cream. The
conviction grew suddenly strong in him that his work in
North Valley was nearly done!
Another night passed, and another day. The last of
the bodies had been brought out, and the corpses shipped
down to Pedro for one of those big wholesale funerals
which are a feature of mine-life. The fire was out, and
the rescue-crews had given place to a swarm of carpenters
and timbermen, repairing the damage and making the
mine safe. The reporters had gone; Billy Keating hav-
ing clasped Hal's hand, and promised to meet him for
luncheon at the club. An agent of the “Red Cross” was
on hand, and was feeding the hungry out of Mrs. Curtis's
subscription-list. What more was there for Hal to do —
except to bid good-bye to his friends, and assure them of
his help in the future?
First among these friends was Mary Burke, whom he
had had no chance to talk to since the meeting with Jessie.
He realised that Mary had been deliberately avoiding him.
She was not in her home, and he went to inquire at the
Rafferties', and stopped for a good-bye chat with the old
woman whose husband he had saved.
Rafferty was going to pull through. His wife had been
allowed in to see him, and tears rolled down her shrunken
cheeks as she told about it. He had been four days and
nights blocked up in a little tunnel, with no food or water,
save for a few drops of coffee which he had shared with
other men. He could still not speak, he could hardly
move a hand; but there was life in his eyes, and his look
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KING COAL
had been a greeting from the soul she had loved and served
these thirty years and more. Mrs. Rafferty sang praises
to the Rafferty God, who had brought him safely through
these perils; it seemed obvious that He must be more effi-
cient than the Protestant God of Johannson, the giant
Swede, who had lain by Rafferty's side and given up the
ghost.
But the doctor had stated that the old Irishman would
never be good to work again; and Hal saw a shadow of
terror cross the sunshine of Mrs. Rafferty's rejoicing.
How could a doctor say a thing like that? Rafferty was
old, to be sure; but he was tough — and could any doctor
imagine how hard a man would try who had a family look-
ing to him? Sure, he was not the one to give up for a bit
of pain now and then! Besides him, there was only Tim
who was earning; and though Tim was a good lad, and
worked steady, any doctor ought to know that a big family
could not be kept going on the wages of one eighteen-year-
old pit-boy. As for the other lads, there was a law that said
they were too young to work. Mrs. Rafferty thought there
should be some one to put a little sense into the heads of
them that made the laws — for if they wanted to forbid
children to work in coal-mines, they should surely provide
some other way to feed the children.
Hal listened, agreeing sympathetically, and meantime
watching her, and learning more from her actions than
from her words. She had been obedient to the teachings
of her religion, to be fruitful and multiply; she had fed
three grown sons into the maw of industry, and had still
eight children and a man to care for. Hal wondered if
she had ever rested a single minute of daylight in all her
fifty-four years. Certainly not while he had been in her
house! Even now, while praising the Rafferty God and
blaming the capitalist law-makers, she was getting a sup-
per, moving swiftly, silently, like a machine. She was
lean as an old horse that has toiled across a desert; the skin
THE WILL OF KING COAL
over her cheek-bones was tight as stretched rubber, and
cords stood out in her wrists like piano-wires.
And now she was cringing before the spectre of destitu-
tion. He asked what she would do about it, and saw the
shadow of terror cross her face again. There was one re-
course from starvation, it seemed to have her children
taken from her, and put in some institution! At the men-
tion of this, one of the special nightmares of the poor, the
old woman began to sob and cry again that the doctor was
wrong; he would see, and Hal would see — Old Rafferty
would be back at his job in a week or two!
§ 2. Hal went out on the street again. It was the
hour which would have been sunset in a level region; the
tops of the mountains were touched with a purple light,
and the air was fresh and chill with early fall. Down the
darkening streets he saw a gathering of men; there was
shouting, and people running towards the place, so he hur-
ried up, with the thought in his mind, “What's the matter
now?” There were perhaps a hundred men crying out,
their voices mingling like the sound of waves on the sea.
He could make out words: “Go on! Go on! We've
had enough of it! Hurrah!”
“What's happened ?” he asked, of some one on the out-
skirts; and the man, recognising him, raised a cry which
ran through the throng: “ Joe Smith! He's the boy for
us! Come in here, Joe! Give us a speech!”
But even while Hal was asking questions, trying to get
the situation clear, other shouts had drowned out his name.
“We've had enough of them walking over us!” And
somebody cried, more loudly, “ Tell us about it! Tell it
again! Go on!”
A man was standing upon the steps of a building at one
side. Hal stared in amazement; it was Tim Rafferty.
Of all people in the world -- Tim, the light-hearted and
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KING COAL
simple, Tim of the laughing face and the merry Irish blue
eyes! Now his sandy hair was tousled and his features
distorted with rage. “Him near dead!” he yelled.
“ Him with his voice gone, and couldn't move his hand !
Eleven years he's slaved for them, and near killed in an
accident that's their own fault -- every man in this crowd
knows it's their own fault, by God!"
« Sure thing! You're right!” cried a chorus of voices.
“ Tell it all! »
“ They give him twenty-five dollars and his hospital
expenses — and what'll his hospital expenses be? They'll
have him out on the street again before he's able to stand.
You know that they done it to Pete Cullen!"
“ You bet they did!”
“ Them damned lawyers in there --- gettin' 'em to sign
papers when they don't know what they're doin'. An' me
that might help him can't get near! By Christ, I say it's
too much! Are we slaves, or are we dogs, that we have to
stand such things?”
“We'll stand no more of it!” shouted one. “We'll go
in there and see to it ourselves!”
« Come on!” shouted another. “To hell with their
gunmen!”
Hal pushed his way into the crowd. “Tim!” he cried.
“How do you know this?”
“ There's a fellow in there seen it."
“ Who?"
“I can't tell you — they'd fire him; but it's somebody
you know as well as me. He come and told me. They're
beatin' me old father out of damages ! ”
“They do it all the time!" shouted Wauchope, an Eng-
lish miner at Hal's side. “That's why they won't let us
in there."
“ They done the same thing to my father!” put in an-
other voice. Hal recognised Andy, the Greek boy.
" And they want to start Number Two in the mornin'!"
THE WILL OF KING COAL
293
yelled Tim. “ Who'll go down there again? And with
Alec Stone, him that damns the men and saves the mules ! ”
“We'll not go back in them mines till they're safe ! ”
shouted Wauchope. “Let them sprinkle them — or I'm
done with the whole business."
“And let 'em give us our weights ! ” cried another.
“We'll have a check-weighman, and we'll get what we
earn!”
So again came the cry, “ Joe Smith! Give us a speech,
Joe! Soak it to 'em! You're the boy!"
Hal stood helpless, dismayed. He had counted his fight
won — and here was another beginning! The men were
looking to him, calling upon him as the boldest of the
rebels. Only a few of them knew about the sudden change
in his fortunes.
Even while he hesitated, the line of battle had swept past
him; the Englishman, Wauchope, sprang upon the steps
and began to address the throng. He was one of the
bowed and stunted men, but in this emergency he de-
veloped sudden lung-power. Hal listened in astonish-
ment; this silent and dull-looking fellow was the last he
would have picked for a fighter. Tom Olson had sounded
him out, and reported that he would hear nothing, so they
had dismissed him from mind. And here he was, shout-
ing terrible defiance !
* They're a set of robbers and murderers! They rob
us everywhere we turn! For my part, I've had enough of
it! Have you?”
There was a roar from every one within reach of his
voice. They had all had enough.
“ All right, then — we'll fight them!”
“Hurrah ! Hurrah! We'll have our rights!”
Jeff Cotton came up on the run, with “ Bud” Adams
and two or three of the gunmen at his heels. The crowd
turned upon them, the men on the outskirts clenching their
fists, showing their teeth like angry dogs. Cotton's face
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KING COAL
was red with rage, but he saw that he had a serious matter
in hand; he turned and went for more help — and the mob
roared with delight. Already they had begun their fight!
Already they had won their first victory!
$ 3. The crowd moved down the street, shouting and
cursing as it went. Some one started to sing the Mar-
seillaise, and others took it up, and the words mounted to
a frenzy:
“ To arms! To arms, ye brave!
March on, march on, all hearts resolved
On victory or death!”
There were the oppressed of many nations in this crowd;
they sang in a score of languages, but it was the same
song. They would sing a few bars, and the yells of others
would drown them out. “March on! March on! All
hearts resolved!” Some rushed away in different direc-
tions to spread the news, and very soon the whole popula-
tion of the village was on the spot; the men waving their
caps, the women lifting up their hands and shrieking —
or standing terrified, realising that babies could not be fod
upon revolutionary singing.
Tim Rafferty was raised up on the shoulders of the
crowd and made to tell his story once more. While he was
telling it, his old mother came running, and her shrieks
rang above the clamour: “ Tim! Tim! Come down
from there! What's the matter wid ye?” She was twist-
ing her hands together in an agony of fright; seeing Hal,
she rushed up to him. “Get him out of there, Joe!
Sure, the lad's gone crazy! They'll turn us out of the
camp, they'll give us nothin' at all --- and what'll become
of us? Mother of God, what's the matter with the b’y?"
She called to Tim again; but Tim paid no attention, if he
heard her. Tim was on the march to Versailles !
THE WILL OF KING COAL
295
would so damned lead in tha
Some one shouted that they would go to the hospital to
protect the injured men from the « damned lawyers.”
Here was something definite, and the crowd moved in that
direction, Hal following with the stragglers, the women
and children, and the less bold among the men. He no-
ticed some of the clerks and salaried employés of the com-
pany; presently he saw Jeff Cotton again, and heard him
ordering these men to the office to get revolvers.
“Big Jack”. David came along with Jerry Minetti, and
Hal drew back to consult with them. Jerry was on fire.
It had come — the revolt he had been looking forward to
for years! Why were they not making speeches, getting
control of the men and organising them?
Jack David voiced uncertainty. They had to consider
if this outburst could mean anything permanent.
Jerry answered that it would mean what they chose to
make it mean. If they took charge, they could guide the
men and hold them together. Wasn't that what Tom
Olson had wanted ?
No, said the big Welshman, Olson had been trying
to organise the men secretly, as preliminary to a revolt in
all the camps. That was quite another thing from an open
movement, limited to one camp. Was there any hope of
success for such a movement ? If not, they would be fool-
ish to start, they would only be making sure of their own
expulsion.
Jerry turned to Hal. What did he think?
And so at last Hal had to speak. It was hard for him
to judge, he said. He knew so little about labour matters.
It was to learn about them that he had come to North
Valley. It was a hard thing to advise men to submit to
such treatment as they had been getting; but on the other
hand, any one could see that a futile outbreak would dis-
courage everybody, and make it harder than ever to organ-
ise them.
So much Hal spoke; but there was more in his mind,
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KING COAL
which he could not speak. He could not say to these
men, “I am a friend of yours, but I am also a friend of
your enemy, and in this crisis I cannot make up my mind
to which side I owe allegiance. I'm bound by a duty of
politeness to the masters of your lives; also, I'm
anxious not to distress the girl I am to marry!" No, he
could not say such things. He felt himself a traitor for
having them in his mind, and he could hardly bring him-
self to look these men in the eye. Jerry knew that he was
in some way connected with the Harrigans; probably he
had told the rest of Hal's friends, and they had been dis-
cussing it and speculating about the meaning of it. Sup-
pose they should think he was a spy?
So Hal was relieved when Jack David spoke firmly.
They would only be playing the game of the enemy if they
let themselves be drawn in prematurely. They ought to
have the advice of Tom Olson.
Where was Olson? Hal asked; and David explained
that on the day when Hal had been thrown out of camp,
Olson had got his "time" and set out for Sheridan, the
local headquarters of the union, to report the situation.
He would probably not come back; he had got his little
group together, he had planted the seed of revolt in North
Valley.
They discussed back and forth the problem of getting
advice. It was impossible to telephone from North Valley
without everything they said being listened to; but the
evening train for Pedro left in a few minutes, and “Big
Jack” declared that some one ought to take it. The town
of Sheridan was only fifteen or twenty miles from Pedro,
and there would be a union official there to advise them;
or they might use the long distance telephone, and per-
suade one of the union leaders in Western City to take the
midnight train, and be in Pedro next morning.
Hal, still hoping to withdraw himself, put this task off
on Jack David. They emptied out the contents of their
THE WILL OF KING COAL
297
pockets, so that he might have funds enough, and the big
Welshman darted off to catch the train. In the meantime
Jerry and Hal agreed to keep in the background, and to
seek out the other members of their group and warn them
to do the same.
§ 4. This programme was a convenient one for Hal;
but as he was to find almost at once, it had been adopted
too late. He and Jerry started after the crowd, which had
stopped in front of one of the company buildings; and as
they came nearer they heard some one making a speech.
It was the voice of a woman, the tones rising clear and
compelling. They could not see the speaker, because of
the throng, but Hal recognised her voice, and caught his
companion by the arm. “It's Mary Burke!”
Mary Burke it was, for a fact; and she seemed to have
the crowd in a kind of frenzy. She would speak one sen-
tence, and there would come a roar from the throng; she
would speak another sentence, and there would come an-
other roar. Hal and Jerry pushed their way in, to where
they could make out the words of this litany of rage.
“Would they go down into the pit themselves, do ye
think ?"
“ They would not!"
“Would they be dressed in silks and laces, do ye
think?"
“ They would not!”
“Would they have such fine soft hands, do ye think?”
“ They would not!"
“ Would they hold themselves too good to look at ye?"
“ They would not! They would not!”
And Mary swept on: “If only ye'd stand together,
they'd come to ye on their knees to ask for terms! But
ye're cowards, and they play on your fears! Ye're trait-
ors, and they buy ye out! They break ye into pieces,
298
KING COAL
they do what they please with ye — and then ride off in
their private cars, and leave gunmen to beat ye down and
trample on your faces! How long will ye stand it?
How long ?”
The roar of the mob rolled down the street and back
again. “We'll not stand it! We'll not stand it!” Men
shook their clenched fists, women shrieked, even children
shouted curses. “We'll fight them! We'll slave no more
for them !”
And Mary found a magic word. “We'll have a
union!” she shouted. “We'll get together and stay to-
gether! If they refuse us our rights, we'll know what to .
answer — we'll have a strike!”
There was a roar like the crashing of thunder in the
mountains. Yes, Mary had found the word! For many
years it had not been spoken aloud in North Valley, but
now it ran like a flash of gunpowder through the throng.
“ Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike!" It seemed as if
they would never have enough of it. Not all of them had
understood Mary's speech, but they knew this word,
“ Strike!” They translated and proclaimed it in
Polish and Bohemian and Italian and Greek. Men waved
their caps, women waved their aprons — in the semi-dark-
ness it was like some strange kind of vegetation tossed by a
storm. Men clasped one another's hands, the more demon-
strative of the foreigners fell upon one another's necks.
“ Strike! Strike! Strike!"
“We're no longer slaves ! ” cried the speaker. “We're
men — and we'll live as men! We'll work as men— or
we'll not work at all! We'll no longer be a herd of cattle,
that they can drive about as they please! We'll organise,
we'll stand together — shoulder to shoulder! Either we'll
win together, or we'll starve and die together! And not a
man of us will yield, not a man of us will turn traitor!
Is there anybody here who'll scab on his fellows?"
There was a howl, which might have come from a pack
Wees erikend Bob
in
ness it WM en clasped oners fell upon one
strative Men clasphe strange kimaprons
THE WILL OF KING COAL
299
of wolves. Let the man who would scab on his fellows
show his dirty face in that crowd !
“ Ye'll stand by the union?"
“ We'll stand by it!"
“ Ye'll swear?”
“We'll swear!”
She flung her arms to heaven with a gesture of passion-
ate adjuration. “Swear it on your lives! To stick to
the rest of us, and never a man of ye give way till ye've
won! Swear! Swear!”
Men stood, imitating her gesture, their hands stretched
up to the sky. “We swear! We swear!”
“Ye'll not let them break ye! Ye'll not let them
frighten ye!”
No! No!”
“ Stand by your word, men! Stand by it! 'Tis the
one chance for your wives and childer!” The girl
rushed on -- exhorting with leaping words and passionate
out-flung arms — a tall, swaying figure of furious re-
bellion. Hal listened to the speech and watched the
speaker, marvelling. Here was a miracle of the human
soul, here was hope born of despair! And the crowd
around her — they were sharing the wonderful rebirth;
their waving arms, their swaying forms responded to
Mary as an orchestra to the baton of a leader.
A thrill shook Hal -- a thrill of triumph! He had
been beaten down himself, he had wanted to run from this
place of torment; but now there was hope in North Valley
— now there would be victory, freedom!
Ever since he had come to the coal-country, the knowl-
edge had been growing in Hal that the real tragedy of
these people's lives was not their physical suffering, but
their mental depression - the dull, hopeless misery in
their minds. This had been driven into his consciousness
day by day, both by what he saw and by what others told
him. Tom Olson had first put it into words: “Your
300
KING COAL
worst troubles are inside the heads of the fellows you're
trying to help!” How could hope be given to men in this
environment of terrorism? Even Hal himself, young and
free as he was, had been brought to despair. He came
from a class which is accustomed to say, “Do this,” or “ Do
that," and it will be done. But these mine-slaves had
never known that sense of power, of certainty; on the con-
trary, they were accustomed to having their efforts balked
at every turn, their every impulse to happiness or achieve
ment crushed by another's will.
But here was this miracle of the human soul! Here
was hope in North Valley! Here were the people rising
- and Mary Burke at their head! It was his vision come
true — Mary Burke with a glory in her face, and her hair
shining like a crown of gold! Mary Burke mounted upon
a snow-white horse, wearing a robe of white, soft and lus-
trous - like Joan of Arc, or a leader in a suffrage parade!
Yes, and she was at the head of a host, he had the music
of its marching in his ears!
Underneath Hal's jesting words had been a real vision,
a real faith in this girl. Since that day when he had first
discovered her, a wild rose of the mining-camp taking in
the family wash, he had realised that she was no pretty
young working-girl, but a woman with a mind and a per-
sonality. She saw farther, she felt more deeply than the
average of these wage-slaves. Her problem was the same
as theirs, yet more complex. When he had wanted to help
her and had offered to get her a job, she had made clear
that what she craved was not merely relief from drudgery,
but a life with intellectual interest. So then the idea had
come to him that Mary should become a teacher, a leader
of her people. She loved them, she suffered for them
and with them, and at the same time she had a mind that
was capable of seeking out the causes of their misery. But
when he had gone to her with plans of leadership, he had
been met by her corroding despair; her pessimism had
youality. Shese wage-slaes
Whenol
THE WILL OF KING COAL
301
seemed to mock his dreams, her contempt for these mine-
slaves had belittled his efforts in their behalf and in bers.
And now, here she was taking up the rôle he had planned
for her! Her very soul was in this shouting throng, he
thought. She had lived the lives of these people, shared
their every wrong, been driven to rebellion with them.
Being a mere man, Hal missed one important point about
this startling development; he did not realise that Mary's
eloquence was addressed, not merely to the Rafferties and
the Wauchopes, and the rest of the North Valley mine-
slaves, but to a certain magazine-cover girl, clad in a mack-
intosh and a pale green hat and a soft and filmy and hor-
ribly expensive motoring veil!
§ 5. Mary's speech was brought to a sudden end. A
group of the men had moved down the street, and there
arose a disturbance there. The noise of it swelled louder,
and more people began to move in that direction. Mary
turned to look, and all at once the whole throng surged
down the street.
The trouble was at the hospital. In front of this build-
ing was a porch, and on it Cartwright and Alec Stone were
standing, with a group of the clerks and office-employés,
among whom Hal saw Predovich, Johnson, the postmaster,
and Si Adams. At the foot of the steps stood Tim Raf-
ferty, with a swarm of determined men at his back. He
was shouting, “ We want them lawyers out of there!”
The superintendent himself had undertaken to parley
with him. “ There are no lawyers in here, Rafferty.”
“We don't trust you!” And the crowd took up the
cry: “We'll see for ourselves ! "
“ You can't go into this building,” declared Cartwright.
“ I'm goin' to see my father ! shouted Tim. "I've
got a right to see my father, ain't I?”
“You can see him in the morning. You can take him
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KING COAL
away, if you want to. We've no desire to keep him. But
he's asleep now, and you can't disturb the others.”
“You weren't afraid to disturb them with your damned
lawyers!” And there was a roar of approval — so loud
that Cartwright's denial could hardly be heard.
"There have been no lawyers near him, I tell you."
“It's a lie!” shouted Wauchope. “They been in there
all day, and you know it. We mean to have them out.”
“Go on, Tim!” cried Andy, the Greek boy, pushing his
way to the front. “Go on!” cried the others; and thus
encouraged, Rafferty started up the steps.
“I mean to see my father!" As Cartwright caught
him by the shoulder, he yelled, “Let me go, I say!”
It was evident that the superintendent was trying his
best not to use violence; he was ordering his own followers
back at the same time that he was holding the boy. But
Tim's blood was up; he shoved forward, and the superin-
tendent, either striking him or trying to ward off a blow,
threw him backwards down the steps. There was an up-
roar of rage from the throng; they surged forward, and at
the same time some of the men on the porch drew re-
volvers.
The meaning of that situation was plain enough. In a
moment more the mob would be up the steps, and there
would be shooting. And if once that happened, who could
guess the end ? Wrought up as the crowd was, it might
not stop till it had fired every company building, perhaps
not until it had murdered every company representative.
Hal had resolved to keep in the back-ground, but he saw
that to keep in the back-ground at that moment would be
an act of cowardice, almost a crime. He sprang forward,
his cry rising above the clamour. “ Stop, men! Stop!"
There was probably no other man in North Valley who
could have got himself heeded at that moment. But Hal
had their confidence, he had earned the right to be heard.
Had he not been to prison for them, had they not seen him
THE WILL OF KING COAL
303
behind the bars ? «Joe Smith!” The cry ran from one
end of the excited throng to the other.
Hal was fighting his way forward, shoving men to one
side, imploring, commanding silence. « Tim Rafferty!
Wait!” And Tim, recognising the voice, obeyed.
Once clear of the press, Hal sprang upon the porch,
where Cartwright did not attempt to interfere with him.
“Men!” he cried. “Hold on a moment! This isn't
what you want! You don't want a fight!” He paused
for an instant; but he knew that no mere negative would
hold them at that moment. They must be told what they
did want. Just now he had learned the particular words
that would carry, and he proclaimed them at the top of his
voice: “What you want is a union! A strike!”
He was answered by a roar from the crowd, the loudest
yet. Yes, that was what they wanted! A strike! And
they wanted Joe Smith to organise it, to lead it. He had
been their leader once, he had been thrown out of camp for
it. How he had got back they were not quite clear - but
here he was, and he was their darling. Hurrah for him!
They would follow him to hell and back!
And wasn't be the boy with the nerve! Standing there
on the porch of the hospital, right under the very noses of
the bosses, making a union speech to them, and the bosses
never daring to touch him! The crowd, realising this situ-
ation, went wild with delight. The English-speaking men
shouted assent to his words; and those who could not un-
derstand, shouted because the others did.
They did not want fighting — of course not! Fight-
ing would not help them! What would help them was to
get together, and stand a solid body of free men. There
would be a union committee, able to speak for all of them,
to say that no man would go to work any more until justice
was secured! They would have an end to the business
of discharging men because they asked for their rights, of
blacklisting men and driving them out of the district be-
say that union cand a soldat wouldurse ne
30.4
KING COAL
tilu56 che presumed to want what the laws of the stato
awarded them!
So. How long could a man expect to stand on the steps
of a company building, with a super and a pit-boss at his
back, and organise it union of mine-workers ? Hal realised
that he musi more the crowd from that perilous place.
"You'll do what I say, now?” he demanded; and when
ther greed in chorus, he added the warning: “There'll
be 10 fighting! And no drinking! If you see any man
drunk ro-night, sit on him and hold him down ! ”
They laughed and cheered. Yes, they would keep
siraight. Here was a job for sober men, you bet!
* And now," Hal continued, "the people in the hos-
pital. We'll have a committee go in and see about them.
No noise - Te don't want to disturb the sick men. We
only want to make sure nobody else is disturbing them.
Some one will go in and stay with them. Does that suit
Fou?"
Yes, that suited them.
"All right," said Hal. “Keep quiet for a moment."
And he turned to the superintendent. “Cartwright,"
said he, "we ant a committee to go in and stay with our
people. Then, as the superintendent started to expostu-
late, he added, in a low voice, “Don't be a fool, man!
Don't you see I'm trying to save your life?”
The superintendent knew how bad it would be for disci-
pline to let Hal carry his point with the crowd; but also
he saw the immediate danger — and he was not sure of the
courage and shooting ability of book-keepers and stenog-
raphers.
* Be quick, man! " exclaimed Hal. “I can't hold these
people long. If you don't want hell breaking loose, come
to your senses."
“ All right," said Cartwright, swallowing his dignity.
1
THE WILL OF KING I
J
.
305
COAL
L
VA
dit VA
.
And Hal turned to the men and announced the concession.
Thoro was a shout of triumph.
“Now, who's to go?” said Ilal, when he could be heard
again; and he looked about at the upturned faces. There
were Tim and Wauchope, the most obvious oncs; but llal
decided to keep them under his eye. He thought of Jerry
Minetti and of Mrs. David — but remembered his agroe-
ment with “Big Jack," to keep their own little group in
the back-ground. Then he thought of Mary Burke; ssho
had already done herself all the harm she could do, and she
was a person the crowd would trust. He called her, and
called Mrs. Ferris, an American woman in the crowd.
The two came up the steps, and Hal turned to Cart-
wright.
“Now, let's have an understanding," he said. “These
people are going in to stay with the sick men, and to talk
to them if they want to, and nobody's going to give them
any orders but the doctors and nurses. Is that right?”
“ All right,” said the superintendent, sullenly.
“Good !” said Hal. “And for God's sake have a little
sense and stand by your word; this crowd has had all it
can endure, and if you do any more to provoke it, the con-
sequences will be on you. And while you're about it, see
that the saloons are closed and kept closed until this trouble
is settled. And keep your people out of the way — don't
let them go about showing their guns and making faces."
Without waiting to hear the superintendent's reply, Hal
turned to the throng, and held up his hand for silence.
“Men,” he said, “ we have a big job to do — we're going
to organise a union. And we can't do it here in front of
the hospital. We've made too much noise already. Let's
go off quietly, and have our meeting on the dump in back
of the power-house. Does that suit you?”
They answered that it suited them; and Hal, haring
seen the two women passed safely into the hospital, sprang
down from the porch to lead the way. Jerry Minetti came
306
KING COAL
to his side, trembling with delight; and Hal clutched him
by the arm and whispered, excitedly, “ Sing, Jerry! Sing
them some Dago song!”
$ 7. They got to the place appointed without any fight-
ing. And meantime Hal had worked out in his mind a
plan for communicating with this polyglot horde. He
knew that half the men could not understand a word of
English, and that half the remainder understood very
little. Obviously, if he was to make matters clear to them,
they must be sorted out according to nationality, and a re-
liable interpreter found for each group.
The process of sorting proved a slow one, involving no
end of shouting and good-natured jostling - Polish here,
Bohemian here, Greek here, Italian here! When this job
had been done, and a man found from each nationality who
understood enough English to translate to his fellows, Hal
started in to make a speech. But before he had spoken
many sentences, pandemonium broke loose. All the in-
terpreters started interpreting at the same time — and at
the top of their lungs; it was like a parade with the bands
close together! Hal was struck dumb; then he began to
laugh, and the various audiences began to laugh; the ora-
tors stopped, perplexed — then they too began to laugh.
So wave after wave of merriment rolled over the throng;
the mood of the assembly was changed all at oncé, from
rage and determination to the wildest hilarity. Hal
learned his first lesson in the handling of these hordes of
child-like people, whose moods were quick, whose tempers
were balanced upon a fine point.
It was necessary for him to make his speech through to
the end, and then move the various audiences apart, to be
addressed by the various interpreters. But then arose a
new difficulty. How could any one control these floods of
eloquence? How be sure that the message was not being
THE WILL OF KING COAL
307
distorted ? Hal had been warned by Olson of company
detectives who posed as workers, gaining the confidence of
men in order to incite them to violence. And certainly
some of these interpreters were violent-looking, and one's
remarks sounded strange in their translations!
There was the Greek orator, for example; a wild man,
with wild hair and eyes, who tore all his passions to tat-
ters. He stood upon a barrel-head, with the light of two
pit-lamps upon him, and some two score of his compatriots
at his feet; he waved his arms, he shook his fists, he
shrieked, he bellowed. But when Hal, becoming uneasy,
went over and asked another English-speaking Greek what
the orator was saying, the answer was that he was promis-
ing that the law should be enforced in North Valley!
Hal stood watching this perfervid little man, a study
in the possibilities of gesture. He drew back his shoul-
ders and puffed out his chest, almost throwing himself
backwards off the barrel-head; he was saying that the
miners would be able to live like men. He crouched down
and bowed his head, moaning; he was telling them what
would happen if they gave up. He fastened his fingers in
his long black hair and began tugging desperately; he
pulled, and then stretched out his empty hands; he pulled
again, so hard that it almost made one cry out with pain to
watch him. Hal asked what that was for; and the answer
was, “He say, 'Stand by union! Pull one hair, he come
out; pull all hairs, no come out'!” It carried one back to
the days of Æsop and his fables !
Tom Olson had told Hal something about the technique
of an organiser, who wished to drill these ignorant hordes.
He had to repeat and repeat, until the dullest in his audi-
ence had grasped his meaning, had got into his head the
all-saving idea of solidarity. When the various orators
had talked themselves out, and the audiences had come
back to the cinder-heap, Hal made his speech all over
again, in words of one syllable, in the kind of pidgin-
in
the pull alloy Stand what made one pty handperately
308
KING COAL
by stay organisincipal lana set of
English which does duty in the camps. Sometimes he
would stop to reinforce it with Greek or Italian or Slavish
words he had picked up. Or perhaps his eloquence would
inflame some one of the interpreters afresh, and he would
wait while the man shouted a few sentences to his com-
patriots. It was not necessary to consider the possi-
bility of boring any one, for these were patient and long-
suffering men, and now desperately in earnest.
They were going to have a union; they were going to do
the thing in regular form, with membership cards and of-
ficials chosen by ballot. So Hal explained to them, step
by step. There was no use organising unless they meant
to stay organised. They would choose leaders, one from
each of the principal language groups; and these leaders
would meet and draw up a set of demands, which would be
submitted in mass-meeting, and ratified, and then pre-
sented to the bosses with the announcement that until these
terms were granted, not a single North Valley worker
would go back into the pits.
Jerry Minetti, who knew all about unions, advised Hal
to enroll the men at once; he counted on the psychological
effect of having each man come forward and give in his
name. But here at once they met a difficulty encountered
by all would-be organisers — lack of funds. There must
be pencils and paper for the enrollment; and Hal had
emptied his pockets for Jack David! He was forced to
borrow a quarter, and send a messenger off to the store. It
was voted by the delegates that each member as he joined
the union should be assessed a dime. There would have
to be some telegraphing and telephoning if they were going
to get help from the outside world.
A temporary committee was named, consisting of Tim
Rafferty, Wauchope and Hal, to keep the lists and the
funds, and to run things until another meeting could be
held on the morrow; also a body-guard of a dozen of the
sturdiest and most reliable men were named to stay by the
THE WILL OF KING COAL
309
committee. The messenger came back with pads and
pencils, and sitting on the ground by the light of pit-
lamps, the interpreters wrote down the names of the men
who wished to join the union, each man in turn pledging
his word for solidarity and discipline. Then the meeting
was declared adjourned till daylight of the morrow, and
the workers scattered to their homes to sleep, with a joy
and sense of power such as few of them had ever known in
their lives before.
$ 8. The committee and its body-guard repaired to the
dining-room of Reminitsky's, where they stretched them-
selves out on the floor; no one attempted to interfere with
them, and while the majority snored peacefully, Hal and
a small group sat writing out the list of demands which
were to be submitted to the bosses in the morning. It
was arranged that Jerry should go down to Pedro by the
early morning train, to get into touch with Jack David
and the union officials, and report to them the latest de
velopments. Because the officials were sure to have de
tectives following them, Hal warned Jerry to go to Mac-
Kellar's house, and have MacKellar bring “ Big Jack"
to meet him there. Also Jerry must have MacKellar get
the Gazette on the long distance phone, and tell Billy
Keating about the strike.
A hundred things like this Hal had to think of; his head
was a-buzz with them, so that when he lay down to sleep he
could not. He thought about the bosses, and what they
might be doing. The bosses would not be sleeping, he felt
sure!
And then came thoughts about his private-car friends;
about the strangeness of this plight into which he had got
himself! He laughed aloud in a kind of desperation as he
recalled Percy's efforts to get him away from here. And
poor Jessie! What could he say to her now?
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The bosses made no move that night; and when morn-
ing came, the strikers hurried to the meeting-place, some
of them without even stopping for breakfast. They came
tousled and unkempt, looking anxiously at their fellows, as
if unable to credit the memory of the bold thing they had
done on the night before. But finding the committee and
its body-guard on hand and ready for business, their cour-
age revived, they felt again the wonderful sentiment of
solidarity which had made men of them. Pretty soon
speech-making began, and cheering and singing, which
brought out the laggards and the cowards. So in a short
while the movement was in full swing, with practically
every man, woman and child among the workers present.
Mary Burke came from the hospital, where she had
spent the night. She looked weary and bedraggled, but
her spirit of battle had not slumped. She reported that
she had talked with some of the injured men, and that
many of them had signed “releases," whereby the com-
pany protected itself against even the threat of a lawsuit.
Others had refused to sign, and Mary had been vehement
in warning them to stand out. Two other women volun-
teered to go to the hospital, in order that she might have a
chance to rest; but Mary did not wish to rest, she did not
feel as if she could ever rest again.
The members of the newly-organised union proceeded to
elect officers. They sought to make Hal president, but he
was shy of binding himself in that irrevocable way, and
succeeded in putting the honour off on Wauchope. Tim
Rafferty was made treasurer and secretary. Then a com-
mittee was chosen to go to Cartwright with the demands of
the men. It included Hal, Wauchope, and Tim; an Ital-
ian named Marcelli, whom Jerry had vouched for; a repre-
sentative of the Slavs and one of the Greeks — Rusick and
Zammakis, both of them solid and faithful men. Finally,
with a good deal of laughter and cheering, the meeting
voted to add Mary Burke to this committee. It was a new
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311
thing to have a woman in such a rôle, but Mary was the
daughter of a miner and the sister of a breaker-boy, and
had as good a right to speak as any one in North Valley.
and propeines show the most deman
$ 9. Hal read the document which had been prepared
the night before. They demanded the right to have a
union without being discharged for it. They demanded a
check-weighman, to be elected by the men themselves.
They demanded that the mines should be sprinkled to pre-
vent explosions, and properly timbered to prevent falls.
They demanded the right to trade at any store they pleased.
Hal called attention to the fact that every one of these de-
mands was for a right guaranteed by the laws of the state;
this was a significant fact, and he urged the men not to in-
clude other demands. After some argument they voted
down the proposition of the radicals, who wanted a ten
per cent. increase in wages. Also they voted down the
proposition of a syndicalist-anarchist, who explained to
them in a jumble of English and Italian that the mines
belonged to them, and that they should refuse all com-
promise and turn the bosses out forthwith.
While this speech was being delivered, young Rovetta
pushed his way through the crowd and drew Hal to one
side. He had been down by the railroad-station and seen
the morning train come in. From it had descended a
crowd of thirty or forty men, of that "hard citizen” type
which every miner in the district could recognise at the
first glance. Evidently the company officials had been
keeping the telephone-wires busy that night; they were
bringing in, not merely this train-load of guards, but auto-
mobile loads from other camps -- from the Northeastern
down the canyon, and from Barela, in a side canyon over
the mountain.
Hal told this news to the meeting, which received it
with howls of rage. So that was the bosses' plan! Hot-
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KING COAL
heads sprang i speeches at ones by main,
They we
heads sprang upon the cinder-heap, half a dozen of them
trying to make speeches at once. The leaders had to sup-
press these too impetuous ones by main force; once more
Hal gave the warning of “No fighting!” They were go-
ing to have faith in their union; they were going to present
a solid front to the company, and the company would learn
the lesson that intimidation would not win a strike.
So it was agreed, and the committee set out for the com-
pany's office, Wauchope carrying in his hand the written
demands of the meeting. Behind the committee marched
the crowd in a solid mass; they packed the street in front
of the office, while the heroic seven went up the steps and
passed into the building. Wauchope made inquiry for
Mr. Cartwright, and a clerk took in the message.
They stood waiting; and meanwhile, one of the office-
people, coming in from the street, beckoned to Hal. He
had an envelope in his hand, and gave it over without a
word. It was addressed, “Joe Smith," and Hal opened
it, and found within a small visiting card, at which he
stared. “Edward S. Warner, Jr."!
For a moment Hal could hardly believe the evidence of
his eyesight. Edward in North Valley! Then, turning
the card over, he read, in his brother's familiar handwrit-
ing, “I am at Cartwright's house. I must see you. The
matter concerns Dad. Come instantly.”
Fear leaped into Hal's heart. What could such a mes-
sage mean?
He turned quickly to the committee and explained.
“My father's an old man, and had a stroke of apoplexy
three years ago. I'm afraid he may be dead, or very ill.
I must go.”
“It's a trick!” cried Wauchope excitedly.
“No, not possibly," answered Hal. "I know my
brother's handwriting. I must see him."
“Well,” declared the other, “ we'll wait. We'll not see
Cartwright until you get back.”
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313
Hal considered this. “I don't think that's wise," he
said. “You can do what you have to do just as well with-
out me."
“But I wanted you to do the talking!”
“No," replied Hal, “ that's your business, Wauchope.
You are the president of the union. You know what the
men want, as well as I do; you know what they complain
of. And besides, there's not going to be any need of talk-
ing with Cartwright. Either he's going to grant our de-
mands or he isn't."
They discussed the matter back and forth. Mary Burke
insisted that they were pulling Hal away just at the criti-
cal moment! He laughed as he answered. She was as
good as any man when it came to an argument. If Wau-
chope showed signs of weakening, let her speak up!
§ 10. So Hal hurried off, and climbed the street which
led to the superintendent's house, a concrete bungalow set
upon a little elevation overlooking the camp. He rang the
bell, and the door opened, and in the entrance stood his
brother.
Edward Warner was eight years older than Hal; the
perfect type of the young American business man. His
figure was erect and athletic, his features were regular and
strong, his voice, his manner, everything about him spoke
of quiet decision, of energy precisely directed. As a rule,
he was a model of what the tailor's art could do, but just
now there was something abnormal about his attire as well
as his manner.
Hal's anxiety had been increasing all the way up the
street. “What's the matter with Dad?” he cried.
“Dad's all right," was the answer—" that is, for the
moment."
“ Then what — ?”
“ Peter Harrigan's on his way back from the East.
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KING COAL
He's due in Western City tomorrow. You can see that
something will be the matter with Dad unless you quit this
business at once.”
Hal had a sudden reaction from his fear. “ So that's
all!” he exclaimed.
His brother was gazing at the young miner, dressed in
sooty blue overalls, his face streaked with black, his wavy
hair all mussed. “You wired me you were going to
leave here, Hal!”
“ So I was; but things happened that I couldn't fore-
see. There's a strike."
“Yes; but what's that got to do with it?” Then, with
exasperation in his voice, “For God's sake, Hal, how much
farther do you expect to go?”
Hal stood for a few moments, looking at his brother.
Even in a tension as he was, he could not help laughing.
“I know how all this must seem to you, Edward. It's a
long story; I hardly know how to begin.”
“No, I suppose not,” said Edward, drily.
And Hal laughed again. “Well, we agree that far, at
any rate. What I was hoping was that we could talk it all
over quietly, after the excitement was past. When I ex-
plain to you about conditions in this place --"
But Edward interrupted. “Really, Hal, there's no use
of such an argument. I have nothing to do with condi-
tions in Peter Harrigan's camps."
The smile left Hal's face. “Would you have pre-
ferred to have me investigate conditions in the Warner
camps?” Hal had tried to suppress his irritation, but
there was simply no way these two could get along.
“We've had our arguments about these things, Edward,
and you've always had the best of me — you could tell me
I was a child, it was presumptuous of me to dispute your
assertions. But now — well, I'm a child no longer, and
we'll have to meet on a new basis.”
Hal's tone, more than his words, made an impression.
THE WILL OF KING COAL
315
Edward thought before he spoke. “Well, what's your
new basis?"
“ Just now I'm in the midst of a strike, and I can hardly
stop to explain.”
You don't think of Dad in all this madness ?”
“I think of Dad, and of you too, Edward; but this is
hardly the time"
“If ever in the world there was a time, this is it!”.
Hal groaned inwardly. “All right,” he said, “sit
down. I'll try to give you some idea how I got swept into
this.”
He began to tell about the conditions he had found in
this stronghold of the “G. F. C." As usual, when he
talked about it, he became absorbed in its human as-
pects; a fervour came into his tone, he was carried on, as
he had been when he tried to argue with the officials in
Pedro. But his eloquence was interrupted, even as it had
been then; he discovered that his brother was in such a
state of exasperation that he could not listen to a con-
secutive argument.
It was the old, old story; it had been thus as far back as
Hal could remember. It seemed one of the mysteries of
nature, how she could have brought two such different
temperaments out of the same parentage. Edward was
practical and positive; he knew what he wanted in the
world, and he knew how to get it; he was never troubled
with doubts, nor with self-questioning, nor with any other
superfluous emotions; he could not understand people who
allowed that sort of waste in their mental processes. He
could not understand people who got “ swept into things."
In the beginning, he had had with Hal the prestige of
the elder brother. He was handsome as a young Greek
god, he was strong and masterful; whether he was flying
over the ice with sure, strong strokes, or cutting the water
with his glistening shoulders, or bringing down a partridge
with the certainty and swiftness of a lightning stroke,
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KING COAL
.....
.
..
....
.-..
Edward was the incarnation of Success. When he said
that one's ideas were “rot,” when he spoke with contempt
of " mollycoddles ”- then indeed one suffered in soul, and
had to go back to Shelley and Ruskin to renew one's
courage.
The questioning of life had begun very early with Hal;
there seemed to be something in his nature which forced
him to go to the roots of things; and much as he looked
up to his wonderful brother, he had been made to realise
that there were sides of life to which this brother was
blind. To begin with, there were religious doubts; the
distresses of mind which plague a young man when first
it dawns upon him that the faith he has been brought up
in is a higher kind of fairy-tale: Edward had never
asked such questions, apparently. He went to church, be-
cause it was the thing to do; more especially because it was
pleasing to the young lady he wished to marry to have him
put on stately clothes, and escort her to a beautiful place
of music and flowers and perfumes, where she would meet
her friends, also in stately clothes. How abnormal it
seemed to Edward that a young man should give up this
pleasant custom, merely because he could not be sure that
Jonah had swallowed a whale!
But it was when Hal's doubts attacked his brother's
week-day religion — the religion of the profit-system -
that the controversy between them had become deadly.
At first Hal had known nothing about practical affairs,
and it had been Edward's duty to answer his questions.
The prosperity of the country had been built up by strong
men; and these men had enemies — evil-minded persons,
animated by jealousy and other base passions, seeking to
tear down the mighty structure. At first this devil-theory
had satisfied the boy; but later on, as he had come to read
and observe, he had been plagued by doubts. In the end,
listening to his brother's conversation, and reading the
menjated by jenighty strut later on, by doubts. reading
tear down to Jealousy and at mies — evil-mit up by strong
THE WILL OF KING COAL
317
writings of so-called “muck-rakers," the realisation was
forced upon him that there were two types of mind in the
controversy — those who thought of profits, and those who
thought of human beings.
Edward was alarmed at the books Hal was reading; he
was still more alarmed when he saw the ideas Hal was
bringing home from college. There must have been some
strange change in Harrigan in a few years; no one had
dreamed of such ideas when Edward was there! No one
had written satiric songs about the faculty, or the endow-
ments of eminent philanthropists !
In the meantime Edward Warner Senior had had a
paralytic stroke, and Edward Junior had taken charge of
the company. Three years of this had given him the point
of view of a coal-operator, hard and set for a life-time.
The business of a coal-operator was to buy his labour
cheap, to turn out the maximum product in the shortest
time, and to sell the product at the market price to parties
whose credit was satisfactory. If a concern was doing
that, it was a successful concern; for any one to mention
that it was making wrecks of the people who dug the coal,
was to be guilty of sentimentality and impertinence.
Edward had heard with dismay his brother's announce-
ment that he meant to study industry by spending his va-
cation as a common labourer. However, when he consid-
ered it, he was inclined to think that the idea might not
be such a bad one. Perhaps Hal would not find what he
was looking for; perhaps, working with his hands, he
might get some of the nonsense knocked out of his head!
But now the experiment had been made, and the reve-
lation had burst upon Edward that it had been a ghastly
failure. Hal had not come to realise that labour was
turbulent and lazy and incompetent, needing a strong hand
to rule it; on the contrary, he had become one of these
turbulent ones himself! A champion of the lazy and in-
318
KING COAL
competent, an agitator, a fomenter of class-prejudice, an
enemy of his own friends, and of his brother's business
associates !
Never had Hal seen Edward in such a state of excite-
ment. There was something really abnormal about him,
Hal realised; it puzzled him vaguely while he talked, but
he did not understand it until his brother told how he had
come to be here. He had been attending a dinner-dance
at the home of a friend, and Percy Harrigan had got him
on the telephone at half past eleven o'clock at night.
Percy had had a message from Cartwright, to the effect
that Hal was leading a riot in North Valley; Percy had
painted the situation in such lurid colours that Edward
had made a dash and caught the midnight train, wearing
his evening clothes, and without so much as a tooth-brush
with him!
Hal could hardly keep from bursting out laughing.
His brother, his punctilious and dignified brother, alight-
ing from a sleeping-car at seven o'clock in the morning,
wearing a dress suit and a silk hat! And here he was,
Edward Warner Junior, the fastidious, who never paid
less than a hundred and fifty dollars for a suit of clothes,
clad in a "hand-me-down” for which he had expended
twelve dollars and forty-eight cents in a “ Jew-store” in
a coal-town!
$ 11. But Edward would not stop for a single smile;
his every faculty was absorbed in the task he had before
him, to get his brother out of this predicament, so dan-
gerous and so humiliating. Hal had come to a town
owned by Edward's business friends, and had proceeded
to meddle in their affairs, to stir up their labouring people
and imperil their property. That North Valley was the
property of the General Fuel Company - not merely the
mines and the houses, but likewise the people who lived in
THE WILL OF KING COAL
319
des
monal Fuel Company's wayco
them -Edward seemed to have no doubt whatever; Hal
got only exclamations of annoyance when he suggested
any other point of view. Would there have been any town
of North Valley, if it had not been for the capital and
energy of the General Fuel Company? If the people of
North Valley did not like the conditions which the General
Fuel Company offered them, they had one simple and
obvious remedy — to go somewhere else to work. But
they stayed; they got out the General Fuel Company's
coal, they took the General Fuel Company's wages -
“ Well, they've stopped taking them now," put in Hal.
All right, that was their affair, replied Edward. But
let them stop because they wanted to — not because out-
side agitators put them up to it. At any rate, let the agi-
tators not include a member of the Warner family!
The elder brother pictured old Peter Harrigan on his
way back from the East; the state of unutterable fury in
which he would arrive, the storm he would raise in the
business world of Western City. Why, it was unimagin-
able, such a thing had never been heard of! “And right
when we're opening up a new mine — when we need every
dollar of credit we can get!"
“ Aren't. we big enough'to stand off Peter Harrigan?”
inquired Hal.
“We have plenty of other people to stand off,” was the
answer. “We don't have to go out of our way to make
enemies."
Edward spoke, not merely as the elder brother, but also
as the money-man of the family. When the father had
broken down from over-work, and had been changed in one
terrible hour from a driving man of affairs into a childish
and pathetic invalid, Hal had been glad enough that there
was one member of the family who was practical; he had
been perfectly willing to see his brother shoulder these
burdens, while he went off to college, to amuse himself
with satiric songs. Hal had no responsibilities, no one
320
KING COAL
1
asked anything of him — except that he would not throw
sticks into the wheels of the machine his brother was run-
ning. “You are living by the coal industry! Every
dollar you spend comes from it -_-"
"I know it! I know it!” cried Hal. “That's the
thing that torments me! The fact that I'm living upon
the bounty of such wage-slaves —"
“Oh, cut it out!” cried Edward. “That's not what I
mean!"
“I know but it's what I mean! From now on I
mean to know about the people who work for me, and
what sort of treatment they get. I'm no longer your kid-
brother, to be put off with platitudes.”
“ You know ours are union mines, Hal-"
“Yes, but what does that mean? How do we work it?
Do we give the men their weights ?”
“Of course! They have their check-weighmen."
“But then, how do we compete with the operators in
this district, who pay for a ton of three thousand pounds ? "
“We manage it — by economy.”
“Economy? I don't see Peter Harrigan wasting any-
thing here!" Hal paused for an answer, but none came.
“Do we buy the check-weighmen? Do we bribe the la-
bour leaders ?”
Edward coloured slightly. “What's the use of being
nasty, Hal? You know I don't do dirty work."
“I don't mean to be nasty, Edward; but you must know
that many a business-man can say he doesn't do dirty
work, because he has others do it for him. What about
politics, for instance? Do we run a machine, and put our
clerks and bosses into the local offices?”
Edward did not answer, and Hal persisted, “I mean
to know these things! I'm not going to be blind any
more!"
“ All right, Hal — you can know anything you want;
but for God's sake, not now! If you want to be taken for
THE WILL OF KING COAL
321
a man, show a man's common sense! Here's Old Peter
getting back to Western City to-morrow night! Don't
you know that he'll be after me, raging like a mad bull ?
Don't you know that if I tell him I can do nothing -- that
I've been down here and tried to pull you away — don't
you know he'll go after Dad?”
Edward had tried all the arguments, and this was the
only one that counted. “You must keep him away from
Dad!” exclaimed Hal.
“ You tell me that!" retorted the other. “And when
you know Old Peter! Don't you know he'll get at him,
if he has to break down the door of the house? He'll
throw the burden of his rage on that poor old man!
You've been warned about it clearly; you know it may be
a matter of life and death to keep Dad from getting ex-
cited. I don't know what he'd do; maybe he'd fly into a
rage with you, maybe he'd defend you. He's old and
weak, he's lost his grip on things. Anyhow, he'd not let
Peter abuse you — and like as not he'd drop dead in the
midst of the dispute! Do you want to have that on your
conscience, along with the troubles of your workingmen
friends ? "
$ 12. Hal sat staring in front of him, silent. Was
it a fact that every man had something in his life which
palsied his arm, and struck him helpless in the battle for
social justice?
When he spoke again, it was in a low voice. “Edward,
I'm thinking about a young Irish boy who works in these
mines. He, too, has a father; and this father was caught
in the explosion. He's an old man, with a wife and seven
other children. He's a good man, the boy's a good boy.
Let me tell you what Peter Harrigan has done to them !”
“Well," said Edward, “whatever it is, it's all right,
you can help them. They won't need to starve."
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KING COAL
“I know," said Hal, “but there are so many others;
I can't help them all. And besides, can't you see, Ed-
ward - what I'm thinking about is not charity, but jus-
tice. I'm sure this boy, Tim Rafferty, loves his father
just exactly as much as I love my father; and there are
other old men here, with sons who love them -—"
“Oh, Hal, for Christ's sake! ” exclaimed Edward, in
a sort of explosion. He had no other words to express his
impatience. “Do you expect to take all the troubles in
the world on your shoulders ?” And he sprang up and
caught the other by the arm. “Boy, you've got to come
away from here!”
Hal got up, without answering. He seemed irresolute,
and his brother started to draw him towards the door.
“I've got a car here. We can get a train in an hour --"
Hal saw that he had to speak firmly. “No, Edward,”
he said. “I can't come just yet.”
“I tell you you must come!”
“I can't. I made these men a promise! ”
“In God's name — what are these men to you? Com-
pared with your own father!”
“I can't explain it, Edward. I've talked for half an
hour, and I don't think you've even heard me. Suffice
it to say that I see these people caught in a trap — and one
that my whole life has helped to make. I can't leave
them in it. What's more, I don't believe Dad would
want me to do it, if he understood.”
The other made a last effort at self-control. “I'm not
going to call you a sentimental fool. Only, let me ask
you one plain question. What do you think you can do
for these people?”
“I think I can help to win decent conditions for them.”
“Good God!” cried Edward; he sighed, in his agony
of exasperation. “In Peter Harrigan's mines! Don't
you realise that he'll pick them up and throw them out of
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323
here, neck and crop — the whole crew, every man in the
town, if necessary ?”
“ Perhaps," answered Hal; “but if the men in the other
mines should join them — if the big union outside should
stand by them —”
.“ You're dreaming, Hal! You're talking like a child !
I talked to the superintendent here; he had telegraphed
the situation to Old Peter, and had just got an answer.
Already he's acted, no doubt."
“ Acted ?" echoed Hal. “How do you mean?" He
was staring at his brother in sudden anxiety.
“ They were going to turn the agitators out, of course."
“What? And while I'm here talking!”
Hal turned toward the door. “You knew it all the
time!” he exclaimed. “You kept me here deliberately!”
He was starting away, but Edward sprang and caught
him. “What could you have done?”
“ Turn me loose ! ” cried Hal, angrily.
“Don't be a fool, Hal! I've been trying to keep you
Edward threw himself between Hal and the door, and
there was a sharp struggle. But the elder man was no
longer the athlete, the young bronzed god; he had been
sitting at a desk in an office, while Hal had been doing
hard labour. Hal threw him to one side, and in a mo-
ment more had sprung out of the door, and was running
down the slope.
§ 13. Coming to the main street of the village, Hal
saw the crowd in front of the office. One glance told
him that something had happened. Men were running
this way and that, gesticulating, shouting. Some were
coming in his direction, and when they saw him they be-
gan to yell to him. The first to reach him was Klowoski,
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KING COAL
V
the little Pole, breathless; gasping with excitement.
“ They fire our committee!"
“ Fire them?”
“Fire 'em out! Down canyon!” The little man was
waving his arms in wild gestures; his eyes seemed about
to start out of his head. “Take 'em off! Whole bunch
fellers — gunmen! People see them — come out back
door. Got ever'body's arm tied. Gunmen fellers hold
'em, don't let 'em holler, can't do nothin'! Got them
cars waitin'— what you call ? —”
“ Automobiles ? "
“Sure, got three! Put ever' body in, quick like that -
they go down road like wind! Go down canyon, all gone!
They bust our strike!” And the little Pole's voice ended
in a howl of despair.
“No, they won't bust our strike!” exclaimed Hal.
“Not yet!”
Suddenly he was reminded of the fact that his brother
had followed him — puffing hard, for the run had been
strenuous. He caught Hal by the arm, exclaiming,
“Keep out of this, I tell you!”
Thus while Hal was questioning Klowoski, he was strug-
gling half-unconsciously, to free himself from his brother's
grasp. Suddenly the matter was forced to an issue, for
the little Polack emitted a cry like an angry cat, and went
at Edward with fingers outstretched like claws. Hal's
dignified brother would have had to part with his dignity,
if Hal had not caught Klowoski's onrush with his other
arm. “Let him alone!” he said. “It's my brother!”
Whereupon the little man fell back and stood watching in
bewilderment.
Hal saw Androkulos running to him. The Greek boy
had been in the street back of the office, and had seen the
committee carried off; nine people had been taken -
Wauchope, Tim Rafferty, and Mary Burke, Marcelli,
Zammakis and Rusick, and three others who had served
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325
as interpreters on the night before. It had all been done
so quickly that the crowd had scarcely realised what was
happening.
Now, having grasped the meaning of it, the men were
beside themselves with rage. They shook their fists, shout-
ing defiance to a group of officials and guards who were
visible upon the porch of the office building. There was
a clamour of shouts for revenge.
Hal could see instantly the dangers of the situation;
he was like a man watching the burning fuse of a bomb.
Now, if ever, this polyglot horde must have leadership --
wise and cool and resourceful leadership.
The crowd, discovering his presence, surged down upon
him like a wave. They gathered round him, howling.
They had lost the rest of their committee, but they still had
Joe Smith. Joe Smith! Hurrah for Joe! Let the gun-
men take him, if they could! They waved their caps,
they tried to lift him upon their shoulders, so that all could
see him.
There was clamour for a speech, and Hal started to make
his way to the steps of the nearest building, with Edward
holding on to his coat. Edward was jostled; he had to
part with his dignity — but he did not part with his
brother. And when Hal was about to mount the steps,
Edward made a last desperate effort, shouting into his ear,
“ Wait a minute! Wait! Are you going to try to talk
to this mob?”
“Of course. Don't you see there'll be trouble if I
don't?”
“You'll get yourself killed! You'll start a fight, and
get a lot of these poor devils shot! Use your common
sense, Hal; the company has brought in guards, and they
are armed, and your people aren't.”
“ That's exactly why I have to speak ! "
The discussion was carried on under difficulties, the
elder brother clinging to the younger's arm, while the
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KING COAL
Single voice, like Klowoski, it champion, Edward gave
single voice,“ Speech! Speech!” There were some
near by who, like Klowoski, did not relish having this
stranger interfering with their champion, and showed
signs of a disposition to “mix in ”; 'so at last Edward gave
up the struggle, and the orator mounted the steps and faced
the throng.
§ 14. Hal raised his arms as a signal for silence.
“ Boys,” he cried, “they've kidnapped our committee.
They think they'll break our strike that way — but they'll
find they've made a mistake!”
“They will! Right you are!" roared a score of voices.
.“ They forget that we've got a union. Hurrah for our
North Valley union!”
“Hurrah! Hurrah!” The cry echoed to the canyon-
walls.
“And hurrah for the big union that will back us — the
United Mine Workers of America !”
Again the yell rang out; again and again. “Hurrah
for the union! Hurrah for the United Mine-Workers ! ”
A big American miner, Ferris, was in the front of the
throng, and his voice beat in Hal's ears like a steam-siren.
“Boys,” Hal resumed, when at last he could be heard,
“use your brains a moment. I warned you they would
try to provoke you! They would like nothing better than
to start a scrap here, and get a chance to smash our union!
Don't forget that, boys, if they can make you fight, they'll
smash the union, and the union is our only hope!”
Again came the cry: “Hurrah for the union!” Hal
let them shout it in twenty languages, until they were sat-
isfied.
“Now, boys," he went on, at last, " they've shipped out
our committee. They may ship me out in the same
way -"
THE WILL OF KING COAL
327
HOU
“No, they won't!” shouted voices in the crowd. And
there was a bellow of rage from Ferris. “Let them try
it! We'll burn them in their beds!”
“But they can ship me out!” argued Hal. “You
know they can beat us at that game! They can call on the
sheriff, they can get the soldiers, if necessary! We can't
oppose them by force — they can turn out every man,
woman and child in the village, if they choose. What
we have to get clear is that even that won't crush our union!
Nor the big union outside, that will be backing us! We
can hold out, and make them take us back in the end!”
Some of Hal's friends, seeing what he was trying to do,
came to his support. “No fighting! No violence!
Stand by the union!” And he went on to drive the lesson
home; even though the company might evict them, the big
union of the four hundred and fifty thousand mine-work-
ers of the country would feed them, it would call out the
rest of the workers in the district in sympathy. So the
bosses, who thought to starve and cow them into submis-
sion, would find their mines lying permanently idle. They
would be forced to give way, and the tactics of solidarity
would triumph.
So Hal went on, recalling the things Olson had told him,
and putting them into practice. He saw hope in their
faces again, dispelling the mood of resentment and rage.
“Now, boys," said he, “I'm going in to see the super-
intendent for you. I'll be your committee, since they've
shipped out the rest.”
The steam-siren of Ferris bellowed again: “ You're
the boy! Joe Smith!”
“All right, men — now mind what I say! I'll see the
super, and then I'll go down to Pedro, where there'll be
some officers of the United Mine-workers this morning.
I'll tell them the situation, and ask them to back you.
That's what you want, is it?”
That was what they wanted. “Big union!”
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KING COAL
“All right. I'll do the best I can for you, and I'll find
some way to get word to you. And meantime you stand
firm. The bosses will tell you lies, they'll try to deceive
you, they'll send spies and trouble-makers among you —
but you hold fast, and wait for the big union."
Hal stood looking at the cheering crowd. He had time
to note some of the faces upturned to him. Pitiful, toil-
worn faces they were, each making its separate appeal,
telling its individual story of deprivation and defeat.
Once more they were transfigured, shining with that
wonderful new light which he had seen for the first time
the previous evening. It had been crushed for a moment,
but it flamed up again; it would never die in the hearts
of men -- once they had learned the power it gave. Noth-
ing Hal had yet seen moved him so much as this new birth
of enthusiasm. A beautiful, a terrible thing it was!
Hal looked at his brother, to see how he had been moved.
What he saw on his brother's face was satisfaction, bound-
less relief. The matter had turned out all right! Hal
was coming away!
Hal turned again to the men; somehow, after his glance
at Edward, they seemed more pitiful than ever. For Ed-
ward typified the power they were facing - the unseeing,
uncomprehending power that meant to crush them. The
possibility of failure was revealed to Hal in a flash of emo-
tion, overwhelming him. He saw them as they would be,
when no leader was at hand to make speeches to them.
He saw them waiting, their life-long habit of obedience
striving to reassert itself; a thousand fears besetting them,
a thousand rumours preying upon them -- wild beasts set
on them by their cunning enemies. They would suffer,
not merely for themselves, but for their wives and chil-
dren -- the very same pangs of dread that Hal suffered
when he thought of one old man up in Western City, whose
doctors had warned him to avoid excitement.
If they stood firm, if they kept their bargain with
THE WILL OF KING COAL
329
their leader, they would be evicted from their homes, they
would face the cold of the coming winter, they would face
hunger and the black-list. And he, meantime — what
would he be doing? What was his part of the bargain?
He would interview the superintendent for them, he would
turn them over to the “ big union ” — and then he would
go off to his own life of ease and pleasure. To eat grilled
steaks and hot rolls in a perfectly appointed club, with
suave and softly-moving servitors at his beck! To dance
at the country club with exquisite creatures of chiffon and
satin, of perfume and sweet smiles and careless, happy
charms! No, it was too easy! He might call that his
duty to his father and brother, but he would know in his
heart that it was treason to life; it was the devil, taking
him onto a high mountain and showing him all the king-
doms of the earth!
Moved by a sudden impulse, Hal raised his hands once
more. “Boys," he said, " we understand each other now.
You'll not go back to work till the big union tells you.
And I, for my part, will stand by you. Your cause is my
cause, I'll go on fighting for you till you have your rights,
till you can live and work as men! Is that right?"
“That's right! That's right!"
“ Very good, then -- we'll swear to it!" And Hal
raised his hands, and the men raised theirs, and amid a
storm of shouts, and a frantic waving of caps, he made
them the pledge which he knew would bind his own con-
science. He made it deliberately, there in his brother's
presence. This was no mere charge on a trench, it was en-
listing for a war! But even in that moment of fervour,
Hal would have been frightened had he realised the pe-
riod of that enlistment, the years of weary and desperate
conflict to which he was pledging his life.
§ 15. Hal descended from his rostrum, and the crowds
330
KING COAL
made way for him, and with his brother at his side he went
down the street to the office building, upon the porch of
which the guards were standing. His progress was a tri-
umphal one; rough voices shouted words of encouragement
in his ears, men jostled and fought to shake his hand or to
pat him on the back; they even patted Edward and tried to
shake his hand, because he was with Hal, and seemed to
have his confidence. Afterwards Hal thought it over and
was merry. Such an adventure for Edward !
The younger man went up the steps of the building and
spoke to the guards. “I want to see Mr. Cartwright."
“He's inside," answered one, not cordially. With Ed-
ward following, Hal entered, and was ushered into the pri-
vate office of the superintendent.
Having been a working-man, and class-conscious, Hal
was observant of the manners of mine-superintendents;
he noted that Cartwright bowed politely to Edward, but
did not include Edward's brother. “Mr. Cartwright,"
he said, “I have come to you as a deputation from the
workers of this camp."
The superintendent did not appear impressed by the
announcement.
“I am instructed to say that the men demand the re-
dress of four grievances before they return to work.
First -"
Here Cartwright spoke, in his quick, sharp way.
“There's no use going on, sir. This company will deal
only with its men as individuals. It will recognise no
deputations."
Hal's answer was equally quick. “Very well, Mr.
Cartwright. In that case, I come to you as an individual.”
For a moment the superintendent seemed nonplussed.
“I wish to ask four rights which are granted to me by
the laws of this state. First, the right to belong to a
union, without being discharged for it."
The other had recovered his manner of quiet mastery.
THE WILL OF KING COAL
331
"You have that right, sir; you have always had it. You
know perfectly well that the company has never discharged
any one for belonging to a union.”
The man was looking at Hal, and there was a duel of
the eyes between them. A cold anger moved Hal. His
ability to endure this sort of thing was at an end. “Mr.
Cartwright,” he said, “you are the servant of one of the
world's greatest actors; and you support him ably.”
The other flushed and drew back; Edward put in
quickly: “Hal, there's nothing to be gained by such
talk !"
“He has all the world for an audience," persisted Hal.
“He plays the most stupendous farce - and he and all
his actors wearing such solemn faces !”
“Mr. Cartwright,” said Edward, with dignity, “I trust
you understand that I have done everything I can to re-
strain my brother.”
“Of course, Mr. Warner,” replied the superintendent.
“And you must know that I, for my part, have done
everything to show your brother consideration."
“ Again!” exclaimed Hal. “This actor is a gen-
ius!”
“Hal, if you have business with Mr. Cartwright "
“He showed me consideration by sending his gunmen
to seize me at night, drag me out of a cabin, and nearly
twist the arm off me! Such humour never was!”
Cartwright attempted to speak -- but looking at Ed-
ward, not at Hal. “At that time --"
“He showed me consideration by having me locked up
in jail and fed on bread and water for two nights and a
day! Can you beat that humour?"
“At that time I did not know _-"
“By forging my name to a letter and having it circu-
lated in the camp! Finally — most considerate of all -
by telling a newspaper man that I had seduced a girl
here! ”
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KING COAL
The superintendent flushed still redder. "No!” he de-
clared.
“What?” cried Hal. “You didn't tell Billy Keating
of the Gazette that I had seduced a girl in North Valley?
You didn't describe the girl to him a red-haired Irish
girl ?"
"I merely said, Mr. Warner, that I had heard certain
rumours -
“ Certain rumours, Mr. Cartwright? The certainty
was all of your making! You made a definite and explicit
statement to Mr. Keating --"
“I'll soon prove it!” And Hal started towards the
telephone on Cartwright's desk.
“What are you going to do, Hal?”
“I am going to get Billy Keating on the wire, and let
you hear his statement."
“Oh, rot, Hal!" cried Edward. “I don't care any-
thing about Keating's statement. You know that at that
time Mr. Cartwright had no means of knowing who you
were."
Cartwright was quick to grasp this support. “Of
course not, Mr. Warner! Your brother came here, pre
tending to be a working boy -"
“Oh!” cried Hal. “So that's it! You think it
proper to circulate slanders about working boys in your
camp?"
“You have been here long enough to know what the
morals of such boys are."
“I have been here long enough, Mr. Cartwright, to
know that if you want to go into the question of morals in
North Valley, the place for you to begin is with the bosses
and guards you put in authority, and allow to prey upon
women.”
Edward broke in: “Hal, there's nothing to be gained
THE WILL OF KING COAL
333
by pursuing this conversation. If you have any business
here, get it over with, for God's sake!”
Hal made an effort to recover his self-possession. He
came back to the demands of the strike — but only to find
that he had used up the superintendent's self-possession.
“I have given you my answer," declared Cartwright, “I
absolutely decline any further discussion.”
“Well,” said Hal, “ since you decline to permit a depu-
tation of your men to deal with you in plain, business-like
fashion, I have to inform you as an individual that every
other individual in your camp refuses to work for you."
The superintendent did not let himself be impressed by
this elaborate sarcasm. “All I have to tell you, sir, is
that Number Two mine will resume work in the morning,
and that any one who refuses to work will be sent down
the canyon before night.”
“So quickly, Mr. Cartwright? They have rented their
homes from the company, and you know that according to
the company's own lease they are entitled to three days'
notice before being evicted!”
Cartwright was so unwise as to argue. He knew that
Edward was hearing, and he wished to clear himself.
“They will not be evicted by the company. They will
be dealt with by the town authorities."
“ Of which you yourself are the head?”
"I happen to have been elected mayor of North Val-
ley."
“As mayor of North Valley, you gave my brother to un-
derstand that you would put me out, did you not ?"
“I asked your brother to persuade you to leave."
“But you made clear that if he could not do this, you
would put me out?”
“Yes, that is true.”
“And the reason you gave was that you had had
instructions by telegraph from Mr. Peter Harrigan. May
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KING COAL
I ask to what office Mr. Harrigan has been elected in your
town ?"
Cartwright saw his difficulty. “Your brother misun-
derstood me,” he said, crossly.
“ Did you misunderstand him, Edward ?”
Edward had walked to the window in disgust; he was
looking at tomato-cans and cinder-heaps, and did not see
fit to turn around. But the superintendent knew that he
was hearing, and considered it necessary to cover the flaw
in his argument. “Young man,” said he," you have vio
lated several of the ordinances of this town.”
“Is there an ordinance against organising a union of
the miners ?"
“No; but there is one against speaking on the streets."
“Who passed that ordinance, if I may ask ?”
“ The town council.”
“ Consisting of Johnson, postmaster and company-store
clerk; Ellison, company book-keeper; Strauss, company
pit-boss; O'Callahan, company saloon-keeper. Have I the
list correct?”
Cartwright did not answer.
“And the fifth member of the town council is yourself,
ex-officio — Mr. Enos Cartwright, mayor and company-
superintendent."
Again there was no answer.
“You have an ordinance against street-speaking; and
at the same time your company owns the saloon-buildings,
the boarding houses, the church and the school. Where
do you expect the citizens to do their speaking ?”
“You would make a good lawyer, young man. But we
who have charge here know perfectly well what you mean
by speaking?!"
“You don't approve, then, of the citizens holding meet-
ings?”
"I mean that we don't consider it necessary to provide
agitators with opportunity to incite our employés."
at th Boarding the citizen good lax
THE WILL OF KING COAL
335
“May I ask, Mr. Cartwright, are you speaking as mayor
of an American community, or as superintendent of a coal-
mine?”
Cartwright's face had been growing continually redder.
Addressing Edward's back, he said, “I don't see any rea-
son why this should continue.”
And Edward was of the same opinion. He turned.
“Really, Hal-"
“But, Edward! A man accuses your brother of being
a law-breaker! Have you hitherto known of any criminal
tendencies in our family?”
Edward turned to the window again and resumed his
study of the cinder-heaps and tomato-cans. It was a vul-
gar and stupid quarrel, but he had seen enough of Hal's
mood to realise that he would go on and on, so long as any
one was indiscreet enough to answer him.
“You say, Mr. Cartwright, that I have violated the or-
dinance against speaking on the street. May I ask what
penalty this ordinance carries?”
"You will find out when the penalty is exacted of you."
Hal laughed. “From what you said just now, I gather
that the penalty is expulsion from the town! If I under-
stand legal procedure, I should have been brought before
the justice of the peace — who happens to be another com-
pany store-clerk. Instead of that, I am sentenced by the
mayor — or is it the company superintendent ? May I
ask how that comes to be?"
“It is because of my consideration "
“ When did I ask consideration?"
“ Consideration for your brother, I mean."
“Oh! Then your ordinance provides that the mayor
- or is it the superintendent? - may show consideration
for the brother of a law-breaker, by changing his penalty
to expulsion from the town. Was it consideration for
Tommie Burke that caused you to have his sister sent down
the canyon?"
336
KING COAL
Cartwright clenched his hands. “I've had all I'll
stand of this !”
He was again addressing Edward's back; and Edward
turned and answered, “I don't blame you, sir.” Then,
to Hal," I really think you've said enough!"
“I hope I've said enough,” replied Hal “to convince
you that the pretence of American law in this coal-camp
is a silly farce, an insult and a humiliation to any man who
respects the institutions of his country.”
" You, Mr. Warner," said the superintendent, to Ed-
ward, “have had experience in managing coal-mines.
You know what it means to deal with ignorant foreigners,
who have no understanding of American law _"
Hal burst out laughing. “So you're teaching them
American law! You're teaching them by setting at
naught every law of your town and state, every constitu-
tional guarantee and substituting the instructions you
get by telegraph from Peter Harrigan!”
Cartwright turned and walked to the door. “Young
man," said he, over his shoulder, “it will be necessary
for you to leave North Valley this morning. I only hope
your brother will be able to persuade you to leave without
trouble." And the bang of the door behind him was the
superintendent's only farewell,
§ 17. Edward turned upon his brother. “Now what
the devil did you want to put me through a scene like that
for? So undignified! So utterly uncalled for! A
quarrel with a man so far beneath you!”
Hal stood where the superintendent had left him. He
was looking at his brother's angry face. “Was that all
you got out of it, Edward ?”
"All that stuff about your private character! What
do you care what a fellow like Cartwright thinks about
1
UW
11
you?"
THE WILL OF KING COAL
337
“I care nothing at all what he thinks, but I care about
having him use such a slander. That's one of their regu-
lar procedures, so Billy Keating says."
Edward answered, coldly, “ Take my advice, and realise
that when you deny a scandal, you only give it circula-
tion.”
“Of course," answered Hal. “That's what makes me
so angry. Think of the girl, the harm done to her!”
“It's not up to you to worry about the girl.”
“Suppose that Cartwright had slandered some woman
friend of yours. Would you have felt the same indiffer-
ence?"
“He'd not have slandered any friend of mine; I choose
my friends more carefully.”
“Yes, of course. What that means is that you choose
them among the rich. But I happen to be more demo-
cratic in my tastes
“Oh, for heaven's sake!” cried Edward. “You re-
formers are all alike — you talk and talk and talk! ”
“I can tell you the reason for that, Edward — a man
like you can shut his eyes, but he can't shut his ears!”.
“Well, can't you let up on me for awhile — long enough
to get out of this place? I feel as if I were sitting on the
top of a volcano, and I've no idea when it may break out
again.”
Hal began to laugh. “All right," he said; “I guess
I haven't shown much appreciation of your visit. I'll be
more sociable now. My next business is in Pedro, so
· I'll go that far with you. There's one thing more »
“What is it?”
“ The company owes me money -"
66 What money?”
“ Some I've earned."
It was Edward's turn to laugh. “Enough to buy you
a shave and a bath ?”
He took out his wallet, and pulled off several bills; and
338
KING COAL
Hal, watching him, realised suddenly a change which had
taken place in his own psychology. Not merely bad he
acquired the class-consciousness of the working-man, he
had acquired the money-consciousness as well. He was
actually concerned about the dollars the company owed
him! He had earned those dollars by back- and heart-
breaking toil, lifting lumps of coal into cars; the sum was
enough to keep the whole Rafferty family alive for a week
or two. And here was Edward, with a smooth brown
leather wallet full of ten- and twenty-dollar bills, which
he peeled off without counting, exactly as if money grew
on trees, or as if coal came out of the earth and walked
into furnaces to the sound of a fiddle and a flute!
Edward had of course no idea of these abnormal proc-
esses going on in his brother's mind. He was holding out
the bills. “Get yourself some decent things,” he said.
“I hope you don't have to stay dirty in order to feel
democratic?”
“No," answered Hal; and then, “How are we going?”
“I've a car waiting, back of the office."
“So you had everything ready!” But Edward made
no answer; afraid of setting off the volcano again.
VU
§ 18. They went out by the rear door of the office, en-
tered the car, and sped out of the village, unseen by the
crowd. And all the way down the canyon Edward pleaded
with Hal to drop the controversy and come home at once.
He brought up the tragic question of Dad again; when
that did not avail, he began to threaten. Suppose Hal's
money-resources were to be cut off, suppose he were to
find himself left out of his father's will — what would he
do then? Hal answered, without a smile, “I can always
get a job as organiser for the United Mine-Workers."
So Edward gave up that line of attack. “If you won't
THE WILL OF KING COAL
339
come,” he declared, “I'm going to stay by you till you
do!”
“ All right,” said Hal. He could not help smiling at
this dire threat. “But if I take you about and introduce
you to my friends, you must agree that what you hear shall
be confidential.”
The other made a face of disgust. “What the devil
would I want to talk about your friends for?”
“I don't know what might happen,” said Hal.
“You're going to meet Peter Harrigan and take his side,
and I can't tell what you might conceive it your duty to
do."
The other exclaimed, with sudden passion, “I'll tell you
right now! If you try to go back to that coal-camp, I
swear to God I'll apply to the courts and have you shut up
in a sanitarium. I don't think I'd have much trouble in
persuading a judge that you're insane."
“No," said Hal, with a laugh " not a judge in this
part of the world ! "
Then, after studying his brother's face for a moment, it
occurred to him that it might be well not to let such an
idea rest unimpeached in Edward's mind. “Wait,"
said he, “till you meet my friend Billy Keating, of the
Gazette, and hear what he would do with such a story!
Billy is crazy to have me turn him loose to play up' my
fight with Old Peter!” The conversation went no far-
ther — but Hal was sure that Edward would " put that in
his pipe and smoke it."
They came to the MacKellar home in Pedro, and Ed-
ward waited in the automobile while Hal went inside.
The old Scotchman welcomed him warmly, and told him
what news he had. Jerry Minetti had been there that
morning, and MacKellar at his request had telephoned to
the office of the union in Sheridan, and ascertained that
Jack David had brought word about the strike on the pre-
vious evening. All parties had been careful not to men-
340
KING COAL
the telep had beesident Hotel
Such, at he had wat seen t
tion names, for “leaks” in the telephone were notorious,
but it was clear who the messenger had been. As a re-
sult of the message, Johann Hartman, president of the
local union of the miners, was now at the American Hotel
in Pedro, together with James Moylan, secretary of the dis-
trict organisation — the latter having come down from
Western City on the same train as Edward.
This was all satisfactory; but MacKellar added a bit of
information of desperate import - the officers of the union
declared that they could not support a strike at the pres-
ent time! It was premature, it could lead to nothing but
failure and discouragement to the larger movement they
were planning.
Such a possibility Hal had himself realised at the out-
set. But he had witnessed the new birth of freedom at
North Valley, he had seen the hungry, toil-worn faces of
men looking up to him for support; he had been moved by
it, and had come to feel that the union officials must be
moved in the same way. “They've simply got to back
it!” he exclaimed. “Those men must not be disap-
pointed! They'll lose all hope, they'll sink into utter de
spair! The labour men must realise that -- I must make
them!”
The old Scotchman answered that Minetti had felt the
same way. He had flung caution to the winds, and rushed
over to the hotel to see Hartman and Moylan. Hal de
cided to follow, and went out to the automobile.
He explained matters to his brother, whose comment
was, Of course! It was what he had foretold. The poor,
mis-guided miners would go back to their work, and their
would-be leader would have to admit the folly of his
course. There was a train for Western City in a couple of
hours; it would be a great favour if Hal would arrange to
take it.
Hal answered shortly that he was going to the American
Hotel. His brother might take him there, if he chose.
THE WILL OF KING COAL
341
So Edward gave the order to the driver of the car. Inci-
dentally, Edward began asking about clothing-stores in
Pedro. While Hal was in the hotel, pleading for the life
of his newly-born labour union, Edward would seek a cos-
tume in which he could “ feel like a human being.”
§ 19. Hal found Jerry Minetti with the two officials in
their hotel-room: Jim Moylan, district secretary, a long,
towering Irish boy, black-eyed and black-haired, quick and
sensitive, the sort of person one trusted and liked at the
first moment; and Johann Hartman, local president, a
grey-haired miner of German birth, reserved and slow-
spoken, evidently a man of much strength, both physical
and moral. He had need of it, any one could realise, hav-
ing charge of a union headquarters in the heart of this
“Empire of Raymond”!
Hal first told of the kidnapping of the committee. This
did not surprise the officials, he found; it was the thing the
companies regularly did when there was threat of re-
bellion in the camps. That was why efforts to organise
openly were so utterly hopeless. There was no chance for
anything but a secret propaganda, maintained until every
camp had the nucleus of an organisation.
“So you can't back this strike!” exclaimed Hal.
Not possibly, was Moylan's reply. It would be lost as
soon as it was begun. There was no slightest hope of suc-
cess until a lot of organisation work had been done.
“But meantime," argued Hal, “the union at North
Valley will go to pieces!”
“Perhaps," was the reply. “We'll only have to start
another. That's what the labour movement is like.”
Jim Moylan was young, and saw Hal's mood. “Don't
misunderstand us! " he cried. “It's heartbreaking
but it's not in our power to help. We are charged with
342
KING COAL
building up the union, and we know that if we supported
everything that looked like a strike, we'd be bankrupt the
first year. You can't imagine how often this same thing
happens — hardly a month we're not called on to handle
such a situation."
“I can see what you mean," said Hal. "But I thought
that in this case, right after the disaster, with the men so
stirred - "
The young Irishman smiled, rather sadly. “You're
new at this game," he said. “If a mine-disaster was
enough to win a strike, God knows our job would be easy.
In Barela, just down the canyon from you, they've had
three big explosions -- they've killed over five hundred
men in the past year!”
Hal began to see how, in his inexperience, he had lost
his sense of proportion.
He looked at the two labour leaders, and recalled the
picture of such a person which he had brought with him
to North Valley — a hot headed and fiery agitator, luring
honest workingmen from their jobs. But here was the
situation exactly reversed! Here was he in a blaze of ex-
citement -- and two labour leaders turning the fire-hose on
him! They sat quiet and business-like, pronouncing a
doom upon the slaves of North Valley. Back to their
black dungeons with them!
“What can we tell the men ?” he asked, making an ef-
fort to repress his chagrin.
“We can only tell them what I'm telling you that
we're helpless, till we've got the whole district organised.
Meantime, they have to stand the gaff; they must do what
they can to keep an organisation."
“But all the active men will be fired!”
“No, not quite all — they seldom get them all."
Here the stolid old German put in. In the last year
the company had turned out more than six thousand men
because of union activity or suspicion of it.
THE WILL OF KING COAL
343
“Six thousand!” echoed Hal. “You mean from this
one district?”
“ That's what I mean."
“But there aren't more than twelve or fifteen thousand
men in the district!”
“I know that."
“ Then how can you ever keep an organisation?”
The other answered, quietly, " They treat the new men
the same as they treated the old.”
Hal thought suddenly of John Edstrom's ants! Here
they were — building their bridge, building it again and
again, as often as floods might destroy it! They had not
the swift impatience of a youth of the leisure-class, accus-
tomed to having his own way, accustomed to thinking of
freedom and decency and justice as necessities of life.
Much as Hal learned from the conversation of these men,
he learned more from their silences - the quiet, matter-
of-fact way they took things which had driven him beside
himself with indignation. He began to realise what it
would mean to stand by his pledge to those poor devils in
North Valley. He would need more than one blaze of ex-
citement; he would need brains and patience and disci-
pline, he would need years of study and hard work!
$ 19. Hal found himself forced to accept the decision
of the labour-leaders. They had had experience, they
could judge the situation. The miners would have to go
back to work, and Cartwright and Alec Stone and Jeff
Cotton would drive them as before! All that the rebels
could do was to try to keep a secret organisation in the
camp.
Jerry Minetti mentioned Jack David. He had gone
back this morning, without having seen the labour-leaders.
So he might escape suspicion, and keep his job, and help
with the union work.
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“ How about you?” asked Hal. “I suppose you've
cooked your goose.”
Jerry had never heard this phrase, but he got its mean-
ing. “Sure thing!” said he.“ Cooked him plenty!"
“ Didn't you see the 'dicks' down stairs in the lobby?”
inquired Hartman.
* I haven't learned to recognise them yet.”
“ Well, you will, if you stay at this business. There
hasn't been a minute since our office was opened that we
haven't had half a dozen on the other side of the street.
Every man that comes to see us is followed back to his
camp and fired that same day. They've broken into my
desk at night and stolen my letters and papers; they've
threatened us with death a hundred times."
“I don't see how you make any headway at all! "
“ They can never stop us. They thought when they
broke into my desk, they'd get a list of our organisers.
But you see, I carry the lists in my head!”
“No small task, either," put in Moylan. “Would
you like to know how many organisers we have at work?
Ninety-seven. And they haven't caught a single one of
them !”
Hal heard him, amazed. Here was a new aspect of the
labour movement! This quiet, resolute old “Dutchy,"
whom you might have taken for a delicatessen-proprietor;
this merry-eyed Irish boy, whom you would have expected
to be escorting a lady to a firemen's ball — they were cap-
tains of an army of sappers who were undermining the
towers of Peter Harrigan's fortress of greed!
Hartman suggested that Jerry might take a chance at
this sort of work. He would surely be fired from North
Valley, so he might as well send word to his family to come
to Pedro. In this way he might save himself to work as
an organiser; because it was the custom of these company
"spotters” to follow a man back to his camp and there
identify him. If Jerry took a train for Western City, they
THE WILL OF KING COAL
345
would be thrown off the track, and he might get into some
new camp and do organising among the Italians. Jerry
accepted this proposition with alacrity; it would put off
the evil day when Rosa and her little ones would be left to
the mercy of chance.
They were still talking when the telephone rang. It
was Hartman's secretary in Sheridan, reporting that he
had just heard from the kidnapped committee. The en-
tire party, eight men and Mary Burke, had been taken to
Horton, a station not far up the line, and put on the train
with many dire threats. But they had left the train at the
next stop, and declared their intention of coming to Pedro.
They were due at the hotel very soon.
Hal desired to be present at this meeting, and went
downstairs to tell his brother. There was another dispute,
of course. Edward reminded Hal that the scenery of
Pedro had a tendency to monotony; to which Hal could
only answer by offering to introduce his brother to his
friends. They were men who could teach Edward much,
if he would consent to learn. He might attend the session
with the committee — eight men and a woman who had
ventured an act of heroism and been made the victims of a
crime. Nor were they bores, as Edward might be think-
ing! There was blue-eyed Tim Rafferty, for example,
a silent, smutty-faced gnome who had broken out of his
black cavern and spread unexpected golden wings of ora-
tory; and Mary Burke, of whom Edward might read in
that afternoon's edition of the Western City Gazette
- a “Joan of Arc of the coal-camps," or something
equally picturesque. But Edward's mood was not to be
enlivened. He had a vision of his brother's appearance
in the paper as the companion of this Hibernian Joan!
Hal went off with Jerry Minetti to what his brother de
scribed as a “hash-house," while Edward proceeded in
solitary state to the dining-room of the American Hotel.
But he was not left in solitary state; pretty soon a sharp-
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faced young man was ushered to a seat beside him, and
started up a conversation. He was a “drummer," he
said; his line” was hardware, what was Edward's? Ed-
ward answered coldly that he had no “line," but the young
man was not rebuffed — apparently his “ line” had hard-
ened his sensibilities. Perhaps Edward was interested in
coal-mines? Had he been visiting the camps? He ques-
tioned so persistently, and came back so often to the sub-
ject, that at last it dawned over Edward what this meant
- he was receiving the attention of a “spotter!”
Strange to say, the circumstance caused Edward more irri-
tation against Peter Harrigan's régime than all his
brother's eloquence about oppression at North Valley.
$ 20. Soon after dinner the kidnapped committee ar-
rived, bedraggled in body and weary in soul. They in-
quired for Johann Hartman, and were sent up to the
room, where there followed a painful scene. Eight men
and a woman who had ventured an act of heroism and been
made the victims of a crime could not easily be persuaded
to see their efforts and sacrifices thrown on the dump-heap,
nor were they timid in expressing their opinions of those
who were betraying them.
“You been tryin' to get us out!” cried Tim Rafferty.
“Ever since I can remember you been at my old man to
help you - an' here, when we do what you ask, you throw
us down!”
“We never asked you to go on strike,” said Moylan.
“No, that's true. You only asked us to pay dues, so
you fellows could have fat salaries.”
“Our salaries aren't very fat,” replied the young
leader, patiently. “You'd find that out if you investi-
gated."
“Well, whatever they are, they go on, while ours stop.
We're on the streets, we're done for. Look at us - and
THE WILL OF KING COAL
347
most of us has got families, too! I got an old mother an'a
lot of brothers and sisters, an' my old man done up an'
can't work. What do you think's to become of us?”
“We'll help you out a little, Rafferty -"
"To hell with you! " cried Tim. “I don't want your
help! When I need charity, I'll go to the county.
They're another bunch of grafters, but they don't pretend
to be friends to the workin' man."
Here was the thing Tom Olson had told Hal at the out-
set — the workingmen bedevilled, not knowing whom to
trust, suspecting the very people who most desired to help
them. “Tim," he put in, “there's no use talking like
that. We have to learn patience --"
And the boy turned upon Hal. “What do you know
about it? It's all a joke to you. You can go off and for-
get it when you get ready. You've got money, they tell
me!”
Hal felt no resentment at this; it was what he heard
from his own conscience. “It isn't so easy for me as you
think, Tim. There are other ways of suffering besides not
having money ~"
“Much sufferin' you'll do with your rich folks!”
sneered Tim.
There was a murmur of protest from others of the com-
mittee.
“Good God, Rafferty! ” broke in Moylan. “We can't
help it, man — we're just as helpless as you!”
“You say you're helpless — but you don't even try!”
“ Try? Do you want us to back a strike that we know
hasn't a chance? You might as well ask us to lie down
and let a load of coal run over us. We can't win, man!
I tell you we can't win! We'd only be throwing away our
organisation ! ”
Moylan became suddenly impassioned. He had seen a
dozen sporadic strikes in this district, and many a dozen
young strikers, homeless, desolate, embittered, turning
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KING COAL
their disappointment on him. “We might support you
with our funds, you say — we might go on doing it, even
while the company ran the mine with scabs. But where
would that land us, Rafferty? I seen many a union on the
rocks — and I ain't so old either! If we had a bank, we'd
support all the miners of the country, they'd never need to
work again till they got their rights. But this money we
spend is the money that other miners are earnin'— right
now, down in the pits, Rafferty, the same as you and your
old man. They give us this money, and they say, 'Use it
to build up the union. Use it to help the men that aren't
organised — take them in, so they won't beat down our
wages and scab on us. But don't waste it, for God's sake;
we have to work hard to make it, and if we don't see re-
sults, you'll get no more out of us.' Don't you see how
that is, man? And how it weighs on us, worse even then
the fear that maybe we'll lose our poor salaries - though
you might refuse to believe anything so good of us? You
don't need to talk to me like I was Peter Harrigan's son.
I was a spragger when I was ten years old, and I ain't been
out of the pits so long that I've forgot the feeling. I
assure you, the thing that keeps me awake at night ain't the
fear of not gettin' a living, for I give myself a bit of edu-
cation, working nights, and I know I could always turn out
and earn what I need; but it's wondering whether I'm
spending the miners' money the best way, whether maybe
I mightn't save them a little misery if I hadn't 'a' done this
or had 'a' done that. When I come down on that sleeper
last night, here's what I was thinking, Tim Rafferty — all
the time I listened to the train bumping ---Now I got to
see some more of the suffering, I got to let some good men
turn against us, because they can't see why we should get
salaries while they get the sack. How am I going to show
them that I'm working for them — working as hard as I
know how — and that I'm not to blame for their
trouble?'"
THE WILL OF KING COAL
349
Here Wauchope broke in. “There's no use talking any
more. I see we're up against it. We'll not trouble you,
Moylan.”
"You trouble me,” cried Moylan," unless you stand by
the movement!”
The other laughed bitterly. “You'll never know what
I do. It's the road for me — and you know it!"
“Well, wherever you go, it'll be the same; either you'll
to carry."
The young leader turned from one to another of the
committee, pleading with them not to be embittered by this
failure, but to turn it to their profit, going on with the
work of building up the solidarity of the miners. Every
man had to make his sacrifices, to pay his part of the price.
The thing of importance was that every man who was dis-
charged should be a spark of unionism, carrying the flame
of revolt to a new part of the country. Let each one do his
part, and there would soon be no place to which the masters
could send for “scabs.”
§ 21. There was one member of this committee whom
Hal watched with especial anxiety - Mary Burke. She
had not yet said a word; while the others argued and pro-
tested, she sat with her lips set and her hands clenched.
Hal knew what rage this failure must bring to her. She
had risen and struggled and hoped, and the result was
what she had always said it would be -- nothing! Now
he saw her, with eyes large and dark with fatigue, fixed on
this fiery young labour-leader. He knew that a war must
be going on within her. Would she drop out entirely
now? It was the test of her character - as it was the
test of the characters of all of them.
“If only we're strong enough and brave enough,” Jim
Moylan was saying, “we can use our defeats to educate
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KING COAL
our people and bring them together. Right now, if we
can make the men at North Valley see what we're doing,
they won't go back beaten, they won't be bitter against the
union, they'll only go back to wait. And ain't that a way
to beat the bosses — to hold our jobs, and keep the union
alive, till we've got into all the camps, and can strike and
win?”
There was a pause; then Mary spoke. “How're you
meanin' to tell the men?” Her voice was without emo-
tion, but nevertheless, Hal's heart leaped. Whether Mary
had any hope or not, she was going to stay in line with the
rest of the ants !
Johann Hartman explained his idea. He would have
circulars printed in several languages and distributed se-
cretly in the camp, ordering the men back to work. But
Jerry met this suggestion with a prompt no. The people
would not believe the circulars, they would suspect the
bosses of having them printed. Hadn't the bosses done
worse than that, " framing up” a letter from Joe Smith to
balk the check-weighman movement? The only thing that
would help would be for some of the committee to get into
the camp and see the men face to face.
“And it got to be quick!” Jerry insisted. “They
get notice to work in morning, and them that don't be fired.
They be the best men, too — men we want to save."
Other members of the committee spoke up, agreeing with
this. Said Rusick, the Slav, slow-witted and slow-spoken,
“ Them fellers get mighty damn sore if they lose their job
and don't got no strike.” And Zammakis, the Greek, quick
and nervous, “We say strike; we got to say no strike."
What could they do? There was, in the first place, the
difficulty of getting away from the hotel, which was being
watched by the “spotters.” Hartman suggested that if
they went out all together and scattered, the detectives
could not follow all of them. Those who escaped might
THE WILL OF KING COAL
351
get into North Valley by hiding in the “empties” which
went up to the mine.
But Moylan pointed out that the company would be
anticipating this; and Rusick, who had once been a hobo,
put in: “ They sure search them cars. They give us
plenty hell, too, when they catch us."
Yes, it would be a dangerous mission. Mary spoke
again. “Maybe a lady could do it better."
“They'd beat a lady,” said Minetti.
“I know, but maybe a lady might fool them. There's
some widows that came to Pedro for the funerals, and
they're wearin' veils that hide their faces. I might pre-
tend to be one of them and get into the camp."
The men looked at one another. There was an idea!
The scowl which had stayed upon the face of Tim Raf-
ferty ever since his quarrel with Moylan, gave place
suddenly to a broad grin.
“I seen Mrs. Zamboni on the street," said he. “She
had on black veils enough to hide the lot of us."
And here Hal spoke, for the first time since Tim Raf-
ferty had silenced him. “Does anybody know where to
find Mrs. Zamboni?"
“She stay with my friend, Mrs. Swajka," said Rusick.
“Well,” said Hal," there's something you people don't
know about this situation. After they had fired you, I
made another speech to the men, and made them swear
they'd stay on strike. So now I've got to go back and eat
my words. If we're relying on veils and things, a man can
be fixed up as well as a woman.”
They were staring at him. “They'll beat you to death
if they catch you!" said Wauchope.
"No," said Hal, “I don't think so. Anyhow, it's up
to me”- he glanced at Tim Rafferty — “because I'm the
only one who doesn't have to suffer for the failure of our
strike."
02
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KING COAL
There was a pause.
“I'm sorry I said that!” cried Tim, impulsively.
“That's all right, old man," replied Hal. “ What you
said is true, and I'd like to do something to ease my con-
science.” He rose to his feet, laughing. “I'll make a
peach of a widow !” he said. “I'm going up and have a
tea-party with my friend Jeff Cotton ! "
$ 22. Hal proposed going to find Mrs. Zamboni at the
place where she was staying; but Moylan interposed, ob-
jecting that the detectives would surely follow him. Even
though they should all go out of the hotel at once, the one
person the detective would surely stick to was the arch-
rebel and trouble-maker, Joe Smith. Finally they de-
cided to bring Mrs. Zamboni to the room. Let her come
with Mrs. Swajka or some other woman who spoke Eng-
lish, and go to the desk and ask for Mary Burke, ex-
plaining that Mary had borrowed money from her, and
that she had to have it to pay the undertaker for the burial
of her man. The hotel-clerk might not know who Mary
Burke was; but the watchful “spotters” would gather
about and listen, and if it was mentioned that Mary was
from North Valley, some one would connect her with the
kidnapped committee.
This was made clear to Rusick, who hurried off, and in
the course of half an hour returned with the announcement
that the women were on the way. A few minutes later
came a tap on the door, and there stood the black-garbed
old widow with her friend. She came in; and then came
looks of dismay and horrified exclamations. Rusick was
requesting her to give up her weeds to Joe Smith!
“She say she don't got nothing else,” explained the
Slav.
THE WILL OF KING COAL
353
ample & Mary Burke old difficult to stand purchased where-
“Ai! Jesu!” cried Mrs. Zamboni, pouring out a sput-
tering torrent.
“She say she don't got nothing to put on. She say it
ain't good to go no clothes ! ”
“Hasn't she got on a petticoat?”
“She say petticoat got holes ! ”
There was a burst of laughter from the company, and
the old woman turned scarlet from her forehead to her
ample throat. “Tell her she wrap up in blankets," said
Hal. “Mary Burke buy her new things."
It proved surprisingly difficult to separate Mrs. Zamboni
from her widow's weeds, which she had purchased with so
great an expenditure of time and tears. Never had a re-
spectable lady who had borne sixteen children received such
a proposition; to sell the insignia of her grief — and here
in a hotel room, crowded with a dozen men! Nor was the
task made easier by the unseemly merriment of the men.
" Ai! Jesu!” cried Mrs. Zamboni again.
“ Tell her it's very, very important," said Hal. “Tell
her I must have them.” And then, seeing that Rusick was
making poor headway, he joined in, in the compromise-
English one learns in the camps. “Got to have! Sure
thing! Got to hide! Quick! Get away from boss !
See? Get killed if no go!”.
So at last the frightened old woman gave way. “ She
say all turn backs,” said Rusick. And everybody turned,
laughing in hilarious whispers, while, with Mary Burke
and Mrs. Swajka for a shield, Mrs. Zamboni got out of her
waist and skirt, putting a blanket round her red shoulders
for modesty's sake. When Hal put the garments on, there
was a foot to spare all round; but after they had stuffed two
bed pillows down in the front of him, and drawn them
tight at the waist-line, the disguise was judged more satis-
factory. He put on the old lady's ample if ragged shoes,
and Mary Burke set the widow's bonnet on his head and
adjusted the many veils; after that Mrs. Zamboni's own
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KING COAL
brood of children would not have suspected the disguise.
It was a merry party for a few minutes; worn and
hopeless as Mary had seemed, she was possessed now by the
spirit of fun. But then quickly the laughter died. The
time for action had come. Mary Burke said that she
would stay with what was left of Mrs. Zamboni, to answer
the door in case any of the hotel people or the detectives
should come. Hal asked Jim Moylan to see Edward, and
say that Hal was writing a manifesto to the North Valley
workers, and would not be ready to leave until the mid-
night train.
These things agreed upon, Hal shook hands all round,
and the eleven men left the room at once, going down stairs
and through the lobby, scattering in every direction on the
streets. Mrs. Swajka and the pseudo-Mrs. Zamboni fol-
lowed a minute later — and, as they anticipated, found the
lobby swept clear of detectives.
§ 23. Bidding Mrs. Swajka farewell, Hal set out for
the railroad station. But before he had gone a block from
the hotel, he ran into his brother, coming straight towards
him.
Edward's face wore a bored look; his very manner of
carrying the magazine under his arm said that he had se-
lected it in a last hopeless effort against the monotony of
Pedro. Such a trick of fate, to take a man of important
affairs, and immure him at the mercy of a maniac in a God-
forsaken coal-town! What did people do in such a hole ?
Pay a nickel to look at moving pictures of cow-boys and
counterfeiters?
Edward's aspect was too much for Hal's sense of
humour. Besides, he had a good excuse; was it not proper
to make a test of his disguise, before facing the real danger
in North Valley?
He placed himself in the path of his brother's progress,
Pay an: Coal-town! What he mercy of a manisinportant
THE WILL OF KING COAL
355
and in Mrs. Zamboni's high, complaining tones, began,
“Mister!”
Edward stared at the interrupting black figure. “Mis-
ter, you Joe Smith's brother, hey?"
The question had to be repeated before Edward gave
his grudging answer. He was not proud of the relation-
ship.
“Mister," continued the whining voice, “my old man
got blow up in mine. I get five pieces from my man what
I got to bury yesterday in grave-yard. I got to pay thirty
dollar for bury them pieces and I don't got no more money
left. I don't got no money from them company fellers.
They come lawyer feller and he say maybe I get money for
bury my man, if I don't jay too much. But, Mister, I
got eleven children I got to feed, and I don't got no more
man, and I don't find no new man for old woman like me.
When I go home I hear them children crying and I don't
got no food, and them company-stores don't give me no
food. I think maybe you Joe Smith's brother you good
man, maybe you sorry for poor widow-woman, you maybe
give me some money, Mister, so I buy some food for them
children.”
“All right," said Edward. He pulled out his wallet
and extracted a bill, which happened to be for ten dollars.
His manner seemed to say, “For heaven's sake, here!”
Mrs. Zamboni clutched the bill with greedy fingers, but
was not appeased. “You got plenty money, Mister!
You rich man, hey! You maybe give me all them moneys,
so I got plenty feed them children? You don't know them
company-stores, Mister, them prices is way up high like
mountains; them children is hungry, they cry all day and
night, and one piece money don't last so long. You give
me some more piece moneys, Mister — hey?”
“I'll give you one more," said Edward. “I need some
for myself." He pulled off another bill.
“What you need so much, Mister? You don't got so
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KING COAL
many children, hey? And you got plenty more money
home, maybe !
“That's all I can give you," said the man. He took a
step to one side, to get round the obstruction in his path.
But the obstruction took a step also — and with sur-
prising agility. “Mister, I thank you for them moneys.
I tell them children I get moneys from good man. I like
you, Mister Smith, you give money for poor widow-woman
- you nice man.”
And the dreadful creature actually stuck out one of her
paws, as if expecting to pat Edward on the cheek, or to
with increasing coluard Smith —
like to marry nic
tagion; but she followed him, determined to do something
to him, he could not be sure what. He had heard that
these foreigners had strange customs!
“It's all right! It's nothing!” he insisted, and fell
back -- at the same time glancing nervously about, to see
if there were spectators of this scene.
“Nice man, Mister! Nice man!” cried the old woman,
with increasing cordiality. “Maybe some day I find man
like you, Mr. Edward Smith — so I don't stay widow-
woman no more. You think maybe you like to marry nice
Slavish woman, got plenty nice children?”
Edward, perceiving that the matter was getting desper-
ate, sprang to one side. It was a spring which should have
carried him to safety; but to his dismay the Slavish widow
sprang also — her claws caught him under the arm-pit,
and fastening in his ribs, gave him a ferocious pinch.
After which the owner of the claws went down the street,
not looking back, but making strange gobbling noises, which
might have been the weeping of a bereaved widow in Slav-
ish, or might have been almost anything else.
$ 24. The train up to North Valley left very soon, and
Hal figured that there would be just time to accomplish his
THE WILL OF KING COAL.
357
errand and catch the last train back. He took his seat in
the car without attracting attention, and sat in his place
until they were approaching their destination, the last stop
up the canyon. There were several of the miners' women
in the car, and Hal picked out one who belonged to Mrs.
Zamboni's nationality, and moved over beside her. She
made place, with some remark; but Hal merely sobbed
softly, and the woman felt for his hand to comfort him.
As his hands were clasped together under the veils, she
patted him reassuringly on the knee.
At the boundary of the stockaded village the train
stopped, and Bud Adams came through the car, scrutinis-
ing every passenger. Seeing this, Hal began to sob again,
and murmured something indistinct to his companion -
which caused her to lean towards him, speaking volubly in
her native language. “Bud” passed by.
When Hal came to leave the train, he took his com-
panion's arm; he sobbed some more, and she talked some
more, and so they went down the platform, under the
very eyes of Pete Hanun, the “ breaker of teeth.” An-
other woman joined them, and they walked down the
street, the women conversing in Slavish, apparently with-
out a suspicion of Hal.
He had worked out his plan of action. He would not
try to talk with the men secretly - it would take too long,
and he might be betrayed before he had talked with a suf-
ficient number. One bold stroke was the thing. In half
an hour it would be supper-time, and the feeders would
gather in Reminitsky's dining-room. He would give his
message there!
Hal's two companions were puzzled that he passed the
Zamboni cabin, where presumably the Zamboni brood were
being cared for by neighbours. But he let them make
what they could of this, and went on to the Minetti home.
To the astonished Rosa he revealed himself, and gave her
husband's message — that she should take herself and the
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KING COAL
children down to Pedro, and wait quietly until she heard
from him. She hurried out and brought in Jack David, to
whom Hal explained matters. “Big Jack's” part in the
recent disturbance had apparently not been suspected; he
and his wife, with Rovetta, Wresmak, and Klowoski, would
remain as a nucleus through which the union could work
upon the men.
The supper-hour was at hand, and the pseudo-Mrs.
Zamboni emerged and toddled down the street. As she
passed into the dining-room of the boarding-house, men
looked at her, but no one spoke. It was the stage of the
meal where everybody was grabbing and devouring, in the
effort to get the best of his grabbing and devouring neigh-.
bours. The black-clad figure went to the far end of the
room; there was a vacant chair, and the figure pulled it
back from the table and climbed upon it. Then a shout
rang through the room: “Boys! Boys!”
The feeders looked up, and saw the widow's weeds
thrown back, and their leader, Joe Smith, gazing out at
them. “ Boys! I've come with a message from the
union !"
There was a yell; men leaped to their feet, chairs were
flung back, falling with a crash to the floor. Then, almost
instantly, came silence; you could have heard the move-
ment of any man's jaws, had any man continued to move
them.
“Boys! I've been down to Pedro and seen the union
people. I knew the bosses wouldn't let me come back, so
I dressed up, and here I am!”
It dawned upon them, the meaning of this fantastic
costume; there were cheers, laughter, yells of delight.
But Hal stretched out his hands, and silence fell again.
“ Listen to me! The bosses won't let me talk long, and
I've something important to say. The union leaders say
we can't win a strike now."
THE WILL OF KING COAL
359
Consternation came into the faces before him. There
were cries of dismay. He went on:
“We are only one camp, and the bosses would turn us
out, they'd get in scabs and run the mines without us.
What we must have is a strike of all the camps at once.
One big union and one big strike! If we walked out now,
it would please the bosses; but we'll fool them — we'll
keep our jobs, and keep our union too! You are members
of the union, you'll go on working for the union! Hooray
for the North Valley union!”
For a moment there was no response. It was hard for
men to cheer over such a prospect! Hal saw that he must
touch a different chord.
“We mustn't be cowards, boys! We've got to keep our
nerve! I'm doing my part — it took nerve to get in here!
In Mrs. Zamboni's clothes, and with two pillows stuffed in
front of me!"
He thumped the pillows, and there was a burst of laugh-
ter. Many in the crowd knew Mrs. Zamboni - it was
what comedians call a " local gag.” The laughter spread,
and became a gale of merriment. Men began to cheer:
“Hurrah for Joe! You're the girl! Will you marry me,
Joe?” And so, of course, it was easy for Hal to get a re-
sponse when he shouted, “Hurrah for the North Valley
The lavoni
whonse whend 50, of You're thment.
Again he raised his hands for silence, and went on
again. “Listen, men. They'll turn me out, and you're
not going to resist them. You're going to work and keep
your jobs, and get ready for the big strike. And you'll
tell the other men what I say. I can't talk to them all, but
you tell them about the union. Remember, there are peo-
ple outside planning and fighting for you. We're going
to stand by the union, all of us, till we've brought these
coal-camps back into America!”. There was a cheer that
shook the walls of the room. Yes, that was what they
wanted to live in America !
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KING COAL
A crowd of men had gathered in the doorway, attracted
by the uproar; Hal noticed confusion and pushing, and saw
the head and burly shoulders of his enemy, Pete Hanun,
come into sight.
“Here come the gunmen, boys!” he cried; and there
was a roar of anger from the crowd. Men turned, clench-
ing their fists, glaring at the guard. But Hal rushed on,
quickly:
“Boys, hear what I say! Keep your heads! I can't
stay in North Valley, and you know it! But I've done
the thing I came to do, I've brought you the message from
the union. And you'll tell the other men — tell them to
stand by the union!”
Hal went on, repeating his message over and over.
Looking from one to another of these toil-worn faces, he
remembered the pledge he had made them, and he made it
anew: “ I'm going to stand by you! I'm going on with
the fight, boys!”
There came more disturbance at the door, and suddenly
Jeff Cotton appeared, with a couple of additional guards,
shoving their way into the room, breathless and red in the
face from running.
“ Ah, there's the marshall” cried Hal. “You needn't
push, Cotton, there's not going to be any trouble. We are
union men here, we know how to control ourselves. Now,
boys, we're not giving up, we're not beaten, we're only
waiting for the men in the other camps! We have a union,
and we mean to keep it! Three cheers for the union!”
The cheers rang out with a will: cheers for the union,
cheers for Joe Smith, cheers for the widow and her
weeds!
“You belong to the union! You stand by it, no matter
what happens? If they fire you, you take it on to the
next place! You teach it to the new men, you never let it
die in your hearts! In union there is strength, in union
there is hope! Never forget it, men Union!”
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361
The voice of the camp-marshal rang out. “If you're
coming, young woman, come now!”
Hal dropped a shy curtsey. “Oh, Mr. Cotton! This
is so sudden!” The crowd howled; and Hal descended
from his platform. With coquettish gesturing he replaced
the widow's veils about his face, and tripped mincingly
across the dining-room. When he reached the camp-
marshal, he daintily took that worthy's arm, and with the
“breaker of teeth" on the other side, and Bud Adams
bringing up the rear, he toddled out of the dining-room
and down the street.
Hungry men gave up their suppers to behold that sight.
They poured out of the building, they followed, laughing,
shouting, jeering. Others came from every direction —
by the time the party had reached the depot, a good part
of the population of the village was on hand; and every-
where went the word, “It's Joe Smith! Come back with
a message from the union!” Big, coal-grimed miners
laughed till the tears made streaks on their faces; they fell
on one another's necks for delight at this trick which had
been played upon their oppressors.
Even Jeff Cotton could not withhold his tribute. “By
God, you're the limit!” he muttered. He accepted the
“ tea-party” aspect of the affair, as the easiest way to get
rid of his recurrent guest, and avert the possibilities of
danger. He escorted the widow to the train and helped
her up the steps, posting escorts at the doors of her car;
nor did the attentions of these gallants cease until the train
had moved down the canyon and passed the limits of the
North Valley stockade!
T
$ 25. Hal took off his widow's weeds; and with them
he shed the merriment he had worn for the benefit of the
men. There came a sudden reaction; he realised that he
was tired.
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KING COAL
For ten days he had lived in a whirl of excitement,
scarcely stopping to sleep. Now he lay back in the car-
seat, pale, exhausted; his head ached, and he realised that
the sum-total of his North Valley experience was failure.
There was left in him no trace of that spirit of adventure
with which he had set out upon his “summer course in
practical sociology." He had studied his lessons, tried to
recite them, and been “flunked.” He smiled a bitter
smile, recollecting the careless jesting that had been on his
lips as he came up that same canyon:
“He keeps them a-roll, that merry old soul —
The wheels of industree;
A-roll and a-roll, for his pipe and his bowl
And his college facultee! ”
The train arrived in Pedro, and Hal took a hack at the
station and drove to the hotel. He still carried the widow's
weeds rolled into a bundle. He might have left them in
the train, but the impulse to economy which he had ac-
quired during the last ten weeks had become a habit. He
would return them to Mrs. Zamboni. The money he had
promised her might better be used to feed her young ones.
The two pillows he would leave in the car; the hotel might
endure the loss !
Entering the lobby, the first person Hal saw was his
brother, and the sight of that patrician face made human
by disgust relieved Hal's headache in part. Life was
harsh, life was cruel; but here was weary, waiting Ed-
ward, that boon of comic relief!
Edward demanded to know where the devil he had been;
and Hal. answered, “I've been visiting the widows and
orphans."
Oh!” said Edward. “And while I sit in this hole
and stew! What's that you've got under your arm?”.
Hal looked at the bundle. "It's a souvenir of one of
the widows,” he said, and unrolled the garments and spread
THE WILL OF KING COAL
363
new man. Ishe accepts hittment growing on his own
them out before his brother's puzzled eyes. “A lady
named Mrs. Swajka gave them to me. They belonged to
another lady, Mrs. Zamboni, but she doesn't need them any
more."
“What have you got to do with them?”
“It seems that Mrs. Zamboni is going to get married
again." Hal lowered his voice, confidentially. “It's a
romance, Edward --- it may interest you as an illustration
of the manners of these foreign races. She met a man on
the street, a fine, fine man, she says — and he gave her a
lot of money. So she went and bought herself some new
clothes, and she wants to give these widow's weeds to the
new man. That's the custom in her country, it seems --
her sign that she accepts him as a suitor.”
Seeing the look of wonderment growing on his brother's
face, Hal had to stop for a moment to keep his own face
straight. “If that man wasn't serious in his intention,
Edward, he'll have trouble, for I know Mrs. Zamboni's
emotional nature. She'll follow him about everywhere --"
“Hal, that creature is insane!” And Edward looked
about him nervously, as if he thought the Slavish widow
might appear suddenly in the hotel lobby to demonstrate
her emotional nature.
“No," replied Hal, “it's just one of those differences in
national customs." And suddenly Hal's face gave way.
He began to laugh; he laughed, perhaps more loudly than
good form permitted.
Edward was much annoyed. There were people in the
lobby, and they were staring at him. “Cut it out, Hal!”
he exclaimed. “Your fool jokes bore me!” But never-
theless, Hal could see uncertainty in his brother's face.
Edward recognised those widow's weeds. And how could
he be sure about the “national customs ” of that grotesque
creature who had pinched him in the ribs on the street ?
“ Cut it out!” he cried again.
Hal, changing his voice suddenly to the Zamboni key,
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KING COAL
exclaimed: “Mister, I got eight children I got to feed,
and I don't got no more man, and I don't find no new man
for old woman like me!”
So at last the truth in its full enormity began to dawn
upon Edward. His consternation and disgust poured
themselves out; and Hal listened, his laughter dying.
“Edward,” he said, “ you don't take me seriously even
yet!"
“Good God!” cried the other. “I believe you're really
insane!”
“You were up there, Edward! You heard what I said
to those poor devils! And you actually thought I'd go off
with you and forget about them!”
Edward ignored this. “You're really insane!” he re-
peated. “You'll get yourself killed, in spite of all I can
do!"
But Hal only laughed. “Not a chance of it! You
should have seen the tea-party manners of the camp-
marshal!"
§ 26. Edward would have endeavoured to carry his
brother away forthwith, but there was no train until late
at night; so Hal went upstairs, where he found Moylan and
Hartman with Mary Burke and Mrs. Zamboni, all eager
to hear his story. As the members of the committee,
who had been out to supper, came straggling in, the story
was told again, and yet again. They were almost as much
delighted as the men in Reminitsky's. If only all strikes
that had to be called off could be called off as neatly as
that!
Between these outbursts of satisfaction, they discussed
their future. Moylan was going back to Western City,
Hartman to his office in Sheridan, from which he would
arrange to send new organisers into North Valley. No
doubt Cartwright would turn off many men — those who
THE WILL OF KING COAL
365
what heen fired, was a job oferty, for ex
had made themselves conspicuous during the strike, those
who continued to talk union out loud. But such men
would have to be replaced, and the union knew through
what agencies the company got its hands. The North
Valley miners would find themselves mysteriously provided
with union literature in their various languages; it would
be slipped under their pillows, or into their dinner-pails, or
the pockets of their coats while they were at work.
Also there was propaganda to be carried on among those
who were turned away; so that, wherever they went, they
would take the message of unionism. There had been a
sympathetic outburst in Barela, Hal learned — starting
quite spontaneously that morning, when the men heard
what had happened at North Valley. A score of workers
had been fired, and more would probably follow in the
inorning. Here was a job for the members of the kid-
napped committee; Tim Rafferty, for example — would he
care to stay in Pedro for a week or two, to meet such men,
and give them literature and arguments ?
This offer was welcome; for life looked desolate to
the Irish boy at this moment. He was out of a job, his
father was a wreck, his family destitute and helpless.
They would have to leave their home, of course; there
would be no place for any Rafferty in North Valley.
Where they would go, God only knew; Tim would become
a wanderer, living away from his people, starving himself
and sending home his pitiful savings.
Hal was watching the boy, and reading these thoughts.
He, Hal Warner, would play the god out of a machine in
this case, and in several others equally pitiful. He had
the right to sign his father's name to checks, a privilege
which he believed he could retain, even while under-
taking the role of Haroun al Raschid in a mine-disaster.
But what about the mine-disasters and abortive strikes
where there did not happen to be any Haroun al Raschid
at hand? What about those people, right in North Valley,
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KING COAL
who did not happen to have told Hal of their affairs? He
perceived that it was only by turning his back and running
that he would escape from his adventure with any portion
of his self-possession. Truly, this fair-seeming and won-
derful civilisation was like the floor of a charnel-house or a
field of battle; anywhere one drove a spade beneath its sur-
face, he uncovered horrors, sights for the eyes and stenches
for the nostrils that caused him to turn sick!
There was Rusick, for example; he had a wife and two
children, and not a dollar in the world. In the year and
more that he had worked, faithfully and persistently, to get
out coal for Peter Harrigan, he had never once been able
to get ahead of his bill for the necessities of life at Old
Peter's store. All his belongings in the world could be
carried in a bundle on his back, and whether he ever saw
these again would depend upon the whim of old Peter's
camp-marshal and guards. Rusick would take to the road,
with a ticket purchased by the union. Perhaps he would
find a job and perhaps not; in any case, the best he could
hope for in life was to work for some other Harrigan, and
run into debt at some other company-store.
There was Hobianish, a Serbian, and Hernandez, a
Mexican, of whom the same things were true, except that
one had four children and the other six. · Bill Wauchope
had only a wife — their babies had died, thank heaven, he
said. He did not seem to have been much moved by Jim
Moylan's pleadings; he was down and out; he would take
to the road, and beat his way to the East and back to
England. They called this a free country! By God, if
he were to tell what had happened to him, he could not get
an English miner to believe it!
Hal gave these men his real name and address, and made
them promise to let him know how they got along. He
would help a little, he said; in his mind he was figuring
how much he ought to do. How far shall a man go in re
lieving the starvation about him, before he can enjoy his
lieving the be ought to do. How his mind he was time
THE WILL OF KING COAL
367
meals in a well-appointed club? What casuist will work
out this problem -- telling him the percentage he shall re-
lieve of the starvation he happens personally to know about,
the percentage of that which he sees on the streets, the per-
centage of that about which he reads in government reports
on the rise in the cost of living. To what extent is he per-
100 meter
mitted to close his eyes, as he walks along the streets on
homines the most com
his way to the club? To what extent is he permitted to
avoid reading government reports before going out to
dinner-dances with his fiancée? Problems such as these
the masters of the higher mathematics have neglected to
solve; the wise men of the academies and the holy men of
the churches have likewise failed to work out the formulas;
and Hal, trying to obtain them by his crude mental arith-
metic, found no satisfaction in the results.
$ 27. Hal wanted a chance to talk to Mary Burke; they
had had no intimate talk since the meeting with Jessie
Arthur, and now he was going away, for a long time. He
wanted to find out what plans Mary had for the future, and
- more important yet what was her state of mind. If
he had been able to lift this girl from despair, his summer
course in practical sociology had not been all a failure!
He asked her to go with him to say good-bye to John
Edstrom, whom he had not seen since their unceremonious
parting at MacKellar's, when Hal had fled to Percy Harri-
gan's train. Downstairs in the lobby Hal explained his
merely remarked that he would follow, if Hal had no ob-
jection. He did not care to make the acquaintance of the
Hibernian Joan of Arc, and would not come close enough
to interfere with Hal's conversation with the lady; but he
wished to do what he could for his brother's protection.
So there set out a moon-light procession - first Hal and
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KING COAL
strike. But now fine he thest to be cheerful
Mary, then Edward, and then Edward's dinner-table com-
panion, the “hardware-drummer!"
Hal was embarrassed in beginning his farewell talk with
Mary. He had no idea how she felt towards him, and he
admitted with a guilty pang that he was a little afraid to
find out! He thought it best to be cheerful, so he started
to tell her how fine he thought her conduct during the
strike. But she did not respond to his remarks, and at
last he realised that she was labouring with some thoughts
of her own.
s There's somethin' I got to say to ye!" she began, sud-
denly. “A couple of days ago I knew how I meant to say
it, but now I don't.”
“Well,” he laughed, "say it as you meant to."
“No; 'twas bitter — and now I'm on my knees before
ye.”
“Not that I want you to be bitter,” said Hal, still laugh-
ing, “but it's I that ought to be on my knees before you.
I didn't accomplish anything, you know.”
“Ye did all ye could — and more than the rest of us.
I want ye to know I'll never forget it. But I want ye to
hear the other thing, too!”
She walked on, staring before her, doubling up her hands
in agitation. “Well ?” said he, still trying to keep a
cheerful tone.
“Ye remember that day just after the explosion? Ye
remember what I said about -- about goin' away with
ye? I take it back."
“Oh, of course!” said he, quickly. “You were dis-
tracted, Mary -- you didn't know what you were saying.”
“No, no! That's not it! But I've changed my mind;
I don't mean to throw meself away."
“I told you you'd see it that way,” he said. “No man
is worth it."
“Ah, lad!” said she. “ 'Tis the fine soothin' tongue ye
THE WILL OF KING COAL
369
have - but I'd rather ye knew the truth. 'Tis that I've
seen the other girl; and I hate her!”
They walked for a bit in silence. Hal had sense
enough to realise that here was a difficult subject. “I
don't want to be a prig, Mary,” he said gently; “ but you'll
change your mind about that, too. You'll not hate her;
you'll be sorry for her.”
She laughed -- a raw, harsh laugh. “What kind of a
joke is that?”
“I know -- it may seem like one. But it'll come to you
some day. You have a wonderful thing to live and fight
for; while she”- he hesitated a moment, for he was not
sure of his own ideas on this subject -—“she has so many
things to learn; and she may never learn them. She'll
miss some fine things.”
“I know one of the fine things she does not mean to
miss," said Mary, grimly; "that's Mr. Hal Warner.”
Then, after they had walked again in silence: “I want ye
to understand me, Mr. Warner --"
“Ah, Mary!” he pleaded. “Don't treat me that way!
I'm Joe.”
“ All right,” she said, “ Joe ye shall be. 'Twill remind
ye of a pretty adventure — bein' a workin' man for a few
weeks. 'Well, that's a part of what I have to tell ye. I've
got my pride, even if I'm only a poor miner's daughter;
and the other day I found out me place."
“ How do you mean?” he asked.
“ Ye don't understand ? Honest ?”
“No, honest,” he said.
“ Ye're stupid with women, Joe. Ye didn't see what
the girl did to me! 'Twas some kind of a bug I was to her.
She was not sure if I was the kind that bites, but she took
no chances -- she threw me off, like that." And Mary
snapped her hand, as one does when troubled with a bug.
"Ah, now!” pleaded Hal. “You're not being fair!”
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KING COAL
“I'm bein' just as fair as I've got it in me to be, Joe.
I been off and had it all out. I can see this much --- ?tis
not her fault, maybe 'tis her class; 'tis all of ye -- the
very best of ye, even yeself, Joe Smith!”
“Yes," he replied, “ Tim Rafferty said that."
“ Tim said too much — but a part of it was true. Ye
think ye've come here and been one of us workin' people.
But don't your own sense tell you the difference, as if it
was a canyon a million miles across — between a poor igno
rant creature in a minin' camp, and a rich man's daugh-
ter, a lady? Ye'd tell me not to be ashamed of poverty;
but would ye ever put me by the side of her — for all your
fine feelin's of friendship for them that's beneath ye?
Didn't ye show that at the Minettis' ? "
“But don't you see, Mary -" He made an effort to
laugh. “I got used to obeying Jessie! I knew her a long
time before I knew you.”
“Ah, Joe! Ye've a kind heart, and a pleasant way of
speakin'. But wouldn't it interest ye to know the real
truth? Ye said ye'd come out here to learn the truth!”
And Hal answered, in a low voice, “Yes," and did not
interrupt again.
$ 28. Mary's voice had dropped low, and Hal thought
how rich and warm it was when she was deeply moved.
She went on:
“I lived all me life in minin' camps, Joe Smith, and I
seen men robbed and beaten, and women cryin' and childer
hungry. I seen the company, like some great wicked beast
that eat them up. But I never knew why, or what it
meant — till that day, there at the Minettis'. I'd read
about fine ladies in books, ye see; but I'd never been spoke
to by one, I'd never had to swallow one, as ye might say.
But there I did — and all at once I seemed to know where
the money goes that's wrung out of the miners. I saw why
1
THE WILL OF KING COAL
371
aska't want again: Cathing hapon her che tull of ba
people were robbin' us, grindin' the life out of us — for
fine ladies like that, to keep them so shinin' and soft!
'Twould not have been so bad, if she'd not come just then,
with all the men and boys dyin' down in the pits -- dyin'
for that soft, white skin, and those soft, white bands, and
all those silky things she swished round in. My God, Joe
- d’ye know what she seemed to me like? Like a smooth,
sleek cat that has just eat up a whole nest full of baby mice,
and has the blood of them all over her cheeks!”
Mary paused, breathing hard. Hal kept silence, and
she went on again: “I had it out with meself, Joe! I
don't want ye to think I'm any better than I am, and I
asked meself this question - Is it for the men in the pits
that ye hate her with such black murder? Or is it for the
one man ye want, and that she's got? And I knew the an-
swer to that! But then I asked meself another question,
too — Would ye be like her if ye could? Would ye do
what she's doin' right now — would ye have it on your
soul? And as God hears me, Joe, 'tis the truth I speak —
I'd not do it! No, not for the love of any man that ever
walked on this earth!”
She had lifted her clenched fist as she spoke. She let
it fall again, and strode on, not even glancing at him.
“Ye might try a thousand years, Joe, and ye'd not realise
the feelin's that come to me there at the Minettis'. The
shame of it - not what she done to me, but what she made
me in me own eyes! Me, the daughter of a drunken old
miner, and her -- I don't know what her father is, but
she's some sort of princess, and she knows it. And that's
the thing that counts, Joe! 'Tis not that she has so much
money, and so many fine things; that she knows how to
talk, and I don't, and that her voice is sweet, and mine is
ugly, when I'm ragin' as I am now. No'tis that she's
so sure! That's the word I found to say it; she's sure
sure — sure! She has the fine things, she's always had
them, she has a right to have them! And I have a right
t, and this I am nod to say he's aly
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KING COAL
to nothin' but trouble, I'm hunted all day by misery and
fear, I've lost even the roof over me head! Joe, ye know
I've got some temper — I'm not easy to beat down; but
when I'd got through bein' taught me place, I went off and
hid meself, I ground me face in the dirt, for the black rage
of it! I said to meself, 'Tis true! There's somethin' in
her better than me! She's some kind of finer creature.
- Look at these hands!” She held then out in the
moonlight, with a swift, passionate gesture. “ So she's a
right to her man, and I'm a fool to have ever raised me
eyes to him! I have to see him go away, and crawl back
into me leaky old shack! Yes, that's the truth! And
when I point it out to the man, what d'ye think he says ?
Why, he tells me gently and kindly that I ought to be
sorry for her! Christ! did ye ever hear the like of that?"
There was a long silence. Hal could not have said any-
thing now, if he had wished to. He knew that this was
what he had come to seek! This was the naked soul of the
class-war!
“Now," concluded Mary, with clenched hands, and a
voice that corresponded, “now, I've had it out. I'm no
slave; I've just as good a right to life as any lady. I
know I'll never have it, of course; I'll never wear good
clothes, nor live in a decent home, nor have the man I
want; but I'll know that I've done somethin' to help free
the workin' people from the shame that's put on them.
That's what the strike done for me, Joe! The strike
showed me the way. We're beat this time, but somehow it
hasn't made the difference ye might think. I'm goin' to
make more strikes before I quit, and they won't all of them
be beat!”
She stopped speaking; and Hal walked beside her,
stirred by a conflict of emotions. His vision of her was
indeed true; she would make more strikes ! He was glad
and proud of that; but then came the thought that while
showed what the use from the done somot have the car good
THE WILL OF KING COAL
373
Ye.camerhaps not, Mor the things beshamed. I hop
she, a girl, was going on with the bitter war, he, a man,
would be eating grilled beefsteaks at the club!
“Mary,” he said, “ I'm ashamed of myself -"
“That's not it, Joe! Ye've no call to be ashamed.
Ye can't help it where ye were born -"
“Perhaps not, Mary. But when a man knows he's
never paid for any of the things he's enjoyed all his life,
surely the least he can do is to be ashamed. I hope you'll
try not to hate me as you do the others.”
“I never hated ye, Joe! Not for one moment! I tell
ye fair and true, I love ye as much as ever. I can say it,
because I'd not have ye now; I've seen the other girl, and
I know ye'd never be satisfied with me. I don't know if I
ought to say it, but I'm thinkin' ye’ll not be altogether satis-
fied with her, either. Ye'll be unhappy either way -
God help ye ! 's
The girl had read deeply into his soul in this last
speech; so deeply that Hal could not trust himself to an-
swer. They were passing a street-lamp, and she looked
at him, for the first time since they had started on their
walk, and saw harassment in his face. A sudden tender-
ness came into her voice. “Joe,” she said ; " ye're lookin'
bad. 'Tis good ye're goin' away from this place!”
He tried to smile, but the effort was feeble.
“ Joe," she went on, “ye asked me to be your friend.
Well, I'll be that!” And she held out the big, rough
hand.
He took it. “We'll not forget each other, Mary," he
said. There was a catch in his voice.
“Sure, lad !” she exclaimed. “We'll make another
strike some day, just like we did at North Valley!”
Hal pressed the big hand; but then suddenly, remember-
ing his brother stalking solemnly in the rear, he relin-
quished the clasp, and failed to say all the fine things he
had in his mind. He called himself a rebel, but not
enough to be sentimental before Edward!
374
KING COAL
$ 29. They came to the house where John Edstrom was
staying. The labouring man's wife opened the door. In
answer to Hal's question, she said, “ The old gentleman's
pretty bad.”
“What's the matter with him?"
“ Didn't you know he was hurt?"
“No. How?"
“ They beat him up, sir. Broke his arm, and nearly
broke his head."
Hal and Mary exclaimed in chorus, “Who did it?
When?"
“We don't know who did it. It was four nights ago."
Hal realised it must have happened while he was
escaping from MacKellar's. "Have you had a doctor
for him?"
“Yes, sir; but we can't do much, because my man is
out of work, and I have the children and the boarders to
look after.”
Hal and Mary ran upstairs. Their old friend lay in
darkness, but he recognised their voices and greeted them
with a feeble cry. The woman brought a lamp, and they
saw him lying on his back, his head done up in bandages,
and one arm bound in splints. He looked really desper-
ately bad, his kindly old eyes deep-sunken and haggard,
and his face — Hal remembered what Jeff Cotton had
called him," that dough-faced old preacher!”
They got the story of what had happened at the time of
Hal's flight to Percy's train. Edstrom had shouted a
warning to the fugitives, and set out to run after them;
when one of the mine-guards, running past him, had
fetched him a blow over the eye, knocking him down. He
had struck his head upon the pavement, and lain there un-
conscious for many hours. When finally some one had
come upon him, and summoned a policeman, they had gone
through his pockets, and found the address of this place
where he was staying written on a scrap of paper. That
THE WILL OF KING COAL
375
was all there was to the story – except that Edstrom had
refrained from sending to MacKellar for help, because he
had felt sure they were all working to get the mine open,
and he did not feel he had the right to put his troubles
upon them.
Hal listened to the old man's feeble statements, and
there came back to him a surge of that fury which his
North Valley experience had generated in him. It was
foolish, perhaps; for to knock down an old man who had
been making trouble was a comparatively slight exercise of
the functions of a mine-guard. But to Hal it seemed the
most characteristic of all the outrages he had seen; it was
an expression of the company's utter blindness to all that
was best in life. This old man, who was so gentle, so pa-
tient, who had suffered so much, and not learned to hate,
who had kept his faith so true! What did his faith
mean to the thugs of the General Fuel Company? What
had his philosophy availed him, his saintliness, his hopes
for mankind ? They had fetched him one swipe as they
passed him, and left him lying — alive or dead, it was all
the same.
Hal had got some satisfaction out of his little adventure
in widowhood, and some out of Mary's self-victory; but
here, listening to the old man's whispered story, his satis-
faction died. He realised again the grim truth about his
summer's experience — that the issue of it had been de-
feat. Utter, unqualified defeat! He had caused the
bosses a momentary chagrin; but it would not take them
many hours to realise that he had really done them a
service in calling off the strike for them. They would start
the wheels of industry again, and the workers would be
just where they had been before Joe Smith came to be
stableman and buddy among them. What was all the talk
about solidarity, about hope for the future; what would it
amount to in the long run, the daily rolling of the wheels of
industry? The workers of North Valley would have ex-
370
KING COAL
actly the right they had always had — the right to be slaves,
and if they did not care for that, the right to be martyrs !
Mary sat holding the old man's hand and whispering
words of passionate sympathy, while Hal got up and paced
the tiny attic, all ablaze with anger. He resolved sud-
denly that he would not go back to Western City; he would
stay here, and get an honest lawyer to come, and set out to
punish the men who were guilty of this outrage. He
Frould test out the law to the limit; if necessary, he would
begin a political fight, to put an end to coal-company rule
in this community. He would find some one to write up
these conditions, he would raise the money and publish a
paper to make them known! Before his surging wrath
had spent itself, Hal Warner had actually come out as a
candidate for governor, and was overturning the Republi-
can machine — all because an unidentified coal-company
detective had knocked a dough-faced old miner into the
gutter and broken his arm!
§ 30. In the end, of course, Hal had to come down to
practical matters. He sat by the bed and told the old man
tactfully that his brother had come to see him and had
giren him some money. This brother had plenty of
money, so Edstrom could be taken to the hospital; or, if he
preferred, Mary could stay near here and take care of
him. They turned to the landlady, who had been stand-
ing in the doorway; she had three boarders in her little
home, it seemed, but if Mary could share a bed with the
landlady's two children, they might make out. In spite
of Hal's protest, Mary accepted this offer; he saw what
was in her mind — she would take some of his money,
because of old Edstrom's need, but she would take just as
little as she possibly could.
John Edstrom of course knew nothing of events since his
injury, so Hal told him the story briefly — though without
THE WILL OF KING COAL
377
ATY
mentioning the transformation which had taken place in
the miner's buddy. He told about the part Mary had
played in the strike; trying to entertain the poor old man,
he told how he had seen her mounted upon a snow-white
horse, and wearing a robe of white, soft and lustrous, like
Joan of Arc, or the leader of a suffrage parade.
“Sure," said Mary, “he's forever callin' attention to
this old dress !"
Hal looked; she was wearing the same blue calico.
“ There's something mysterious about that dress," said he.
“It's one of those that you read about in fairy-stories, that
forever patch themselves, and keep themselves new and
starchy. A body only needs one dress like that!”
coal-camps — unless 'tis meself, that washes it at night,
and dries it over the stove, and irons it next mornin'."
She said this with unwavering cheerfulness; but even
the old miner lying in pain on the cot could realise the
tragedy of a young girl's having only one old dress in her
love-hunting season. He looked at the young couple, and
saw their evident interest in each other; after the fashion
of the old, he was disposed to help along the romance.
“ She may need some orange blossoms,” he ventured,
feebly.
“Go along with ye!” laughed Mary, still unwavering,
“ Sure," put in Hal, with hasty gallantry, “'tis a blos-
som she is herself! A rose in a mining-camp — and
there's a dispute about her in the poetry-books. One tells
you to leave her on her stalk, and another says to gather ye
rosebuds while ye may, old time is still a-flying!”
“ Ye're mixin' me up," said Mary. "A while back I
was ridin' on a white horse."
“I remember," said Old Edstrom," not so far back, you
were an ant, Mary.”
Her face became grave. To jest about her personal
tragedy was one thing, to jest about the strike was an-
378
KING COAL
other. “Yes, I remember. Yo said I'd stay in the
line! Yo were viser than me, Mr. Edstrom."
"That's one of the things that come with being old,
Mary." He moved his gnarled old hand toward hers.
* You're going on, now?" he asked. “You're a unionist
now, Wary?"
"I am that!” she answered, promptly, her grey eyes
shining
“There's a saying," said he -"once a striker, always
& striker. Find a way to get some education for your-
self, Mary, and when the big strike comes you'll be one of
those the miners look to. I'll not be here, I know the
young people must take my place.”
"I'll do my part," she answered. Her voice was low;
it was a kind of benediction the old man was giving her.
The woman had gone downstairs to attend to her chil-
dren; she came back now to say that there was a gentleman
at the door, who wanted to know when his brother was
coming. Hal remembered suddenly - Edward had been
pacing up and down all this while, with no company but a
" hardware drummer!" The younger brother's resolve to
star in Pedro had already begun to weaken somewhat, and
nov it weakened still further; he realised that life is com-
ples, that duties conflict! He assured the old miner again
of his ability to see that he did not suffer from want, and
then he bade him farewell for a while.
He started out, and Mary went as far as the head of the
stairwar with him. He took the girl's big, rough hand in
his — this time with no one to see. “Mary," he said, “I
want you to know that nothing will make me forget you;
and nothing will make me forget the miners."
"Ah, Joe!” she cried. “Don't let them win ye away
from us! We need ye so bad!”
"I'm going back home for a while," he answered, “but
Fou can be sure that no matter what happens in my life,
I'm going to fight for the working people. When the big
THE WILL OF KING COAL
379
strike comes, as we know it's coming in this coal-country,
I'll be here to do my share."
“Sure lad," she said, looking him bravely in the eye,
“ and good-bye to ye, Joe Smith.” Her eyes did not
waver; but Hal noted a catch in her voice, and he found
himself with an impulse to take her in his arms. It was
very puzzling. He knew he loved Jessie Arthur; he re-
membered the question Mary had once asked him — could
he be in love with two girls at the same time? It was not
in accord with any moral code that had been impressed
upon him, but apparently he could !
$ 31. He went out to the street, where his brother was
pacing up and down in a ferment. The “hardware
drummer" had made another effort to start a conversa-
tion, and had been told to go to hell — no less!
“Well, are you through now?” Edward demanded,
taking out his irritation on Hal.
“Yes," replied the other. “I suppose so." He real-
ised that Edward would not be concerned about Edstrom's
broken arm.
“ Then, for God's sake, get some clothes on and let's
have some food.”
“ All right,” said Hal. But his answer was listless,
and the other looked at him sharply. Even by the moon-
light Edward could see the lines in the face of his younger
brother, and the hollows around his eyes. For the first
time he realised how deeply these experiences were cut-
ting into the boy's soul. “You poor kid!” he exclaimed,
with sudden feeling. But Hal did not answer; he did
not want sympathy, he did not want anything!
Edward made a gesture of despair. “God knows, I
don't know what to do for you!"
They started back to the hotel, and on the ray Edward
cast about in his mind for a harmless subject of conrer-
380
KING COAL
sation. He mentioned that he had foreseen the shutting
up of the stores, and had purchased an outfit for his
brother. There was no need to thank him, he added
grimly; he had no intention of travelling to Western City
in company with a hobo.
So the young miner had a bath, the first real one in a
long time. (Never again would it be possible for ladies
to say in Hal Warner's presence that the poor might at
least keep clean!) He had a shave; he trimmed his
finger-nails, and brushed his hair, and dressed himself as
a gentleman. In spite of himself he found his cheerful-
ness partly restored. A strange and wonderful sensation
- to be dressed once more as a gentleman. He thought
of the saying of the old negro, who liked to stub his toe,
because it felt so good when it stopped hurting!
They went out to find a restaurant, and on the way one
last misadventure befell Edward. Hal saw an old miner
walking past, and stopped with a cry: “Mike!” He
forgot all at once that he was a gentleman; the old miner
forgot it also. He stared for one bewildered moment,
then he rushed at Hal and seized him in the hug of a
mountain grizzly.
“My buddy! My buddy!” he cried, and gave Hal a
prodigious thump on the back. “By Judas!)And he
gave him a thump with the other hand. “Hey! you old
son-of-a-gun!” And he gave him a hairy kiss!
But in the very midst of these raptures it dawned over
him that there was something wrong about his buddy.
He drew back, staring. “You got good clothes! You
got rich, hey?"
Evidently the old fellow had heard no rumour concern-
ing Hal's secret. “I've been doing pretty well,” Hal
said.
“What you work at, hey?"
“I been working at a strike in North Valley."
“What's that? You make money working at strike?”
THE WILL OF KING COAL
381
Hal laughed, but did not explain. “What you work-
ing at?"
* I work at strike too - all alone strike."
“No job?”
“I work two days on railroad. Got busted track up
there. Pay me two-twenty-five a day. Then no more
job."
“Have you tried the mines ?”
“What? Me? They got me all right! I go up to
San José. Pit-boss say, Get the hell out of here, you
old groucher! You don't get no more jobs in this dis-
trict!'"
Hal looked Mike over, and saw that his dirty old face
was drawn and white, belying the feeble cheerfulness of
his words. “We're going to have something to eat,” he
said. “Won't you come with us?"
“Sure thing!” said Mike, with alacrity. “I go easy
on grub now."
Hal introduced “Mr. Edward Warner," who said
“How do you do?” He accepted gingerly the calloused
paw which the old Slovak held out to him, but he could
not keep the look of irritation from his face. His pa-
tience was utterly exhausted. He had hoped to find a
decent restaurant and have some real food; but now, of
course, he could not enjoy anything, with this old gobbler
in front of him.
They entered an all-night lunch-room, where Hal and
Mike ordered cheese-sandwiches and milk, and Edward
sat and wondered at his brother's ability to eat such food.
Meantime the two cronies told each other their stories,
and Old Mike slapped his knee and cried out with delight
over Hal’s exploits. “Oh, you buddy!” he exclaimed ;
then, to Edward, " Ain't he a daisy, hey?” And he gave
Edward a thump on the shoulder. “By Judas, they don't
beat my buddy!"
Mike Sikoria had last been seen by Hal from the win-
332
KING COAL
dow of the North Valley jail, wlien he had been distrib-
uting the copies of Hal's signature, and Bud Adams had
taken him in charge. The mine-guard had marched him
into a shed in back of the power-house, where he had
found Kauser and Kalovac, two other fellows who had
been arrested while helping in the distribution.
Mike detailed the esperience with his usual animation.
• Her, Mister Bud,' I say, 'if you going to send me
domn canyon, I want to get my things. You go to hell
for your things,' says he. And then I say, “Mister Bud,
I want to get my time.' And he says, 'I give you plenty
time right here!' And he punch me and throw me over.
Then he grab me up again and pull me outside, and I see
big automobile waiting, and I say, 'Holy Judas! I get
ride in automobile! Here I am, old fellow fifty-seven
rears old, never been in automobile ride all my days. I
think alas I die and never get in automobile ride!'
Tego down canyon, and I look round and see them moun-
tains, and feel nice cool wind in my face, and I say,
• Bulls for you, Mister Bud, I don't never forget this
automobile. I don't have such good time any day all my
life.' And he say, 'Shut your face, you old wop!' Then
we come out on prairie, we go up in Black Hills, and they
stop, and say, "Get out here, you sons o guns. And
ther leare us there all alone. They say, 'You come back
again, we catch you and we rip the guts out of you!'
They go away fast, and we got to walk seven hours, us
ſellers, before we come to a house! But I don't mind
that, I begged some grub, and then I got job mending
track; only I don't find out if you get out of jail, and
I think maybe I lose my buddy and never see him no
more."
Here the old man stopped, gazing affectionately at Hal.
“I write you letter to North Valley, but I don't hear
nothing, and I got to walk all the way on railroad track
to look for you."
bol wind indon't nevery day, all them
THE WILL OF KING COAL
383
How was it? Hal wondered. He had encountered
naked horror in this coal-country — yet here he was, not
entirely glad at the thought of leaving it! He would miss
Old Mike Sikoria, his hairy kiss and his grizzly-bear hug!
He struck the old man dumb by pressing a twenty-
dollar bill into his hand. Also he gave him the address
of Edstrom and Mary, and a note to Johann Hartman,
who might use him to work among the Slovaks who came
down into the town. Hal explained that he had to go
back to Western City that night, but that he would never
forget his old friend, and would see that he had a good
job. He was trying to figure out some occupation for the
old man on his father's country-place. A pet grizzly !
Train-time came, and the long line of dark sleepers
rolled in by the depot-platform. It was late -- after mid-
night; but, nevertheless, there was Old Mike. He was in
awe of Hal now, with his fine clothes and his twenty-
dollar bills; but, nevertheless, under stress of his emotion,
he gave him one more hug, and one more hairy kiss.
“Good-bye, my buddy!” he cried. “You come back, my
buddy! I don't forget my buddy!” And when the
train began to move, he waved his ragged cap, and ran
along the platform to get a last glimpse, to call a last
farewell. When Hal turned into the car, it was with more
than a trace of moisture in his eyes.
POSTSCRIPT
From previous experiences the writer has learned that
many people, reading a novel such as “ King Coal,” de-
sire to be informed as to whether it is true to fact. They
write to ask if the book is meant to be so taken; they ask
for evidence to convince themselves and others. Having
answered thousands of such letters in the course of his
life, it seems to the author the part of common-sense to
answer some of them in advance.
King Coal” is a picture of the life of the workers in
unorganised labour-camps in many parts of America.
The writer has avoided naming a definite place, for the
reason that such conditions are to be found as far apart
as West Virginia, Alabama, Michigan, Minnesota, and
Colorado. Most of the details of his picture were gath-
ered in the last-named state, which the writer visited on
three occasions during and just after the great coal-strike
of 1913-14. The book gives a true picture of conditions
and events observed by him at this time. Practically all
the characters are real persons, and every incident which
has social significance is not merely a true incident, but a
typical one. The life portrayed in “King Coal” is the
life that is lived to-day by hundreds of thousands of men,
women and children in this “land of the free.”
The reader who wishes evidence may be accommodated.
There was never a strike more investigated than the Colo-
rado coal-strike. The material about it in the writer's
possession cannot be less than eight million words, the
greater part of it sworn testimony taken under govern-
ment supervision. There is, first, the report of the Con-
gressional Committee, a government document of three
384
POSTSCRIPT
385
thousand closely printed pages, about two million words;
an equal amount of testimony given before the U. S. Com-
mission on Industrial Relations, also a government docu-
ment; a special report on the Colorado strike, prepared
for the same commission, a book of 189 pages, supporting
every contention of this story; about four hundred thou-
sand words of testimony given before a committee ap-
pointed at the suggestion of the Governor of Colorado;
à report made by the Rev. Henry A. Atkinson, who
investigated the strike as representative of the Federal
Council of the Churches of Christ in America, and of
the Social Service Commission of the Congregational
Churches; the report of an elaborate investigation by the
Colorado state militia; the bulletins issued by both sides
during the controversy; the testimony given at various
coroners' inquests; and, finally, articles by different writ-
ers to be found in the files of Everybody's Magazine, the
Metropolitan Magazine, the Survey, Harper's Weekly,
and Collier's Weekly, all during the year 1914.
The writer prepared a collection of extracts from these
various sources, meaning to publish them in this place;
but while the manuscript was in the hands of the publish-
ers, there appeared one document, which, in the weight of
its authority, seemed to discount all others. A decision
was rendered by the Supreme Court of the State of Colo-
rado, in a case which included the most fundamental of
the many issues raised in "King Coal.” It is not often
that the writer of a novel of contemporary life is so fortu-
nate as to have the truth of his work passed upon and
established by the highest judicial tribunal of the com-
munity!
In the elections of November, 1914, in Huerfano
County, Colorado, J. B. Farr, Republican candidate for
re-election as sheriff, a person known throughout the coal-
country as “the King of Huerfano County," was returned
as elected by a majority of 329 votes. His rival, the
386
KING COAL
Democratic candidate, contested the election, alleging
“malconduct, fraud and corruption.” The district court
found in Farr's favour, and the case was appealed on
error to the Supreme Court of the State. On June 21st,
1916, after Farr had served nearly the whole of his term
of office, the Supreme Court handed down a decision
which unseated him and the entire ticket elected with him,
finding in favour of the opposition ticket in all cases and
upon all grounds charged.
The decision is long — about ten thousand words, and
its legal technicalities would not interest the reader. It
will suffice to reprint the essential paragraphs. The
reader is asked to give these paragraphs careful study,
considering, not merely the specific offence denounced by
the court, but its wider implications. The offence was
one so unprecedented that the justices of the court, men
chosen for their learning in the history of offences, were
moved to say: “We find no such example of fraud
within the books, and must seek the letter and spirit of
the law in a free government, as a scale in which to weigh
such conduct." And let it be noted, this "crime without
a name” was not a crime of passion, but of policy; it
was a crime deliberately planned and carried out by profit-
seeking corporations of enormous power. Let the reader
imagine the psychology of the men of great wealth who
logy mother of the ori great Wineta wino
ordered this crime, as a means of keeping and increasing
their wealth ; let him realise what must be the attitude of
such men to their helpless workers; and then let him ask
himself whether there is any act portrayed in "King
Coal” which men of such character would shrink from
ordering.
The Court decision first gives an outline of the case,
using for the most part the statements of the counsel for
the defendant, Farr; so that for practical purposes the
following may be taken as the coal companies' own ac-
count of their domain: “Round the shaft of each mine
must be and inalth who
POSTSCRIPT
387
are clustered the tipple, the mine office, the shops, sheds
and outbuildings; and huddled close by, within a stone's
throw, cottages of the miners built on the land of, and
owned by, the mining company. All the dwellers in the
camp are employés of the mine. There is no other in-
dustry. This is the camp. Of the eight 'closed
camps' it appears that practically the same conditions
existed in all of them, and those conditions were in gen-
eral that members of the United Mine Workers of Amer-
ica, their organisers or agitators, were prevented from
coming into the camps, so far as it was possible to keep
them out, and to this end guards were stationed about
them. Of the eight closed camps' one of them, 'Wal-
sen,' was, and at the time of the trial still was, enclosed
by a fence erected at the beginning of the strike in Octo-
ber, 1913: Rouse and Cameron were partly, but never
entirely, enclosed by fences. It is admitted that all per-
sons entering these camps and precincts were required by
the companies to have passes, and it is contended that this
was an industrial necessity.'"
The Court then goes on as follows:
“ The Federal troops entered the district in May of
1914, and the testimony is in agreement that no serious
acts of violence occurred thereafter, and that order was
preserved up to and subsequent to the election, and to the
time of this trial.
“It was under this condition that in July, 1914, the
Board of County Commissioners changed certain of the
election precincts so as to constitute each of such camps
an election precinct, and with but one exception where a
few ranches were included, these precincts were made to
conform to the fences and lines around each camp, pro
tected by fences in some instances and with armed guards
in all cases. Thus each election precinct by this unparal-
leled act of the commissioners was placed exclusively
within and upon the private grounds and under the pri-
SSS
KING COAL
vader control of a coal corporation, which autocratically
dexlared who should and who should not enter upon the
territory of this political entity of the state, so purposely
beunded by the county comunissioners.
“With but oue exception all the lands and buildings
within each of these election precincts as so created, were
owned or controlled by the coal corporations; every person
resident within such precincts was an employé of these
prirate corporations or their allied companies, with the
single exception: erery judge, clerk or officer of election
with the exception of a saloon keeper, and partner of Farr,
was an emplove of the coal-companies.
"The polling places were upon the grounds, and in the
buildings of these companies; the registration lists were
kept within the prirate offices or buildings of such com-
panies, and used and treated as their private property.
" Thus were the public election districts and the public
election machinery turned orer to the absolute domination
and imperial control of private coal corporations, and used
br them as absolutely and privately as were their mines,
to and for their own private purposes, and upon which
pablic territory no man might enter for either public or
private purpose, sare and except by the express permis-
sion of these private corporations.
"This right to determine who should enter such so
called election precincts, appears from the record to have
tzan exercised as against all classes; merchants, trades-
TREL OT whai not, and whether the business of such person
was public or private. Indeed, it appears that in one in-
sance tre governor and adjutant general of the state while
co ožcial basiness, vere denied admission to one of these
close canys. And that on the day of election, the Demo
crazo watchers and challengers for Walsen Mine precinct,
ce si hich was Yeelley, the Democratic candidate for
serii, were forced to seek and secure a detail of Federal
soldiers to Escort there into the precinct and to the polls,
Tas palihe GOTETES, elect on the for Valeatic canol Federis,
POSTSCRIPT
389
and that such soldiers remained as such guard during the
day and a part of the night. ...
"But if there was any doubt concerning the condition
of the closed camps and precincts, and the exclusion of
representatives of the Democratic party from discussing
the issues of the campaign within the precincts compris-
ing the closed camps, it is entirely removed by the testi-
mony of the witness Weitzel, for contestee (Farr). He
testified that he was a resident of Pueblo, and was man-
ager of the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company; that Rouse,
Lester, Ideal, Cameron, Walsen, Pictou and McNally are
camps under his jurisdiction. That he had general
charge of the camps and that there was no company of-
ficial in Colorado superior to him in this respect except
the president; that the superintendent and other employés
are under his supervision; that the Federal troops came
about the 1st of May, 1914, and continued until January,
1915. That in all those camps he tried to keep out the
people who were antagonistic to the company's interests;
that it was private property and so treated by his com-
pany; that through him the company and its officials
assumed to exercise authority as to who might or who
might not enter; that if persons could assure or satisfy
the man at the gate, or the superintendent that they were
not connected with the United Mine Workers, or in their
employ as agitators, they were let into the camp. That
'no one we were fighting against got in for social inter-
course or any other'; that he and officials under him
assumed to pass upon the question of whether or not any
person coming there came for the purpose of agitation.
That Mr. Mitchell, the chairman of the Democratic com-
mittee, as he recalled it, was identified with the agitators,
ran a newspaper and was connected either directly or in-
directly with the United Mine Workers; that Mr. Neeller,
Democratic candidate for sheriff, was identified with the
strikers, and that he would be considered as an objection-
390
KING COAL
0
able character. That when the Federal troops came, they
restored peace and normal conditions; there was no riot-
ing after that, there was no fear on the part of the com-
pany when the Federal soldiers were here, except fear of
agitation. Asked if he guarded the camp against discus-
sion, against the espousal of the cause of the company, he
replied, 'We didn't encourage it.'. The company would
not encourage organisers to come into the camp, no matter
how peacefully they conducted themselves; that the com-
pany did not permit men to come into the camp to discuss
with the employés certain principles, or to carry on argu-
ments with them or to appeal to their reason, or to discuss
with them things along reasonable lines, because it was
known from experience that if they were allowed to come
in they would resort to threats of violence. They might
not resort to any violence at the time, but it might result
in the people becoming frightened and leaving, and they
were anxious to hold their employés. He was asked
whether or not one had business there depended upon the
decision of the official in charge; he replied that the super-
intendent probably would inquire of him what his busi-
ness was. That any one that Farr asked for a permit to
enter the camp would likely get it. ...
“There was but one attempt to hold a political meeting
in the closed precincts. Joseph Patterson, who attempted
to hold this meeting, testifies concerning it as follows:
“Was at a political meeting at Oakview. Had been
a warm, personal friend of Mr. Jones, the assistant su-
perintendent of the Oakview mine, and had written him
a letter asking the courtesy of holding a political meeting.
On Saturday evening received a letter that he could hold
such meeting. On the day previous to the meeting wit-
ness received a 'phone message from the assistant super-
intendent, in which the latter inquired whether witness
was coming up there to cause any trouble, and witness
replied, certainly not, and if the superintendent felt that
POSTSCRIPT
391
way they would not come. Had advised the superintend-
ent that he and others were going to hold a political meet-
ing for the Democratic party. Jones, the superintendent,
stated that witness should come to the office that night
before he went to the school house for the purpose of the
meeting; when witness arrived at the meeting there were
about six or eight English speaking people and a dozen
to fourteen Mexicans. The superintendent, Mr. Morgan,
and Mr. Price, were outside of the door most of the time.
Witness noticed that the first few fellows that came to
ward the school" house, the superintendent stopped and
talked with them and they turned back to the camp. This
happened several times: as soon as they talked with Mor-
gan they turned back. After he saw that, witness went
into the school house and said that it was no use to hold
any meeting; that it seemed that nobody was allowed to
come. This meeting was supposed to be in a public
school house on the company property. Had to get per-
mission from the superintendent of the Oakview mining
Company to hold said political meeting." ...
“It appears that the number of registered voters in the
closed precincts was very largely in excess of the number
of votes cast, and this of itself was sufficient to demand
an open and fair investigation as to the qualifications of
the alleged voters.
“ It appears from the testimony that in these closed
precincts many of those who voted were unable to speak
or read the English language, and that in numerous in-
stances, the election judges assisted such, by marking the
ballots for them in violation of the law. Again, it ap-
pears that the ballots were printed so that ... (The
decision here goes on to explain in detail a device whereby
the ballot was so printed that voting could be controlled
with the help of a card device.) Thus such voters were
not choosing candidates, but, under the direction of the
companies, were simply placing the cross where they
the open and and thiery largely
392
KING COAL
found the particular letter R on the ballot, so that the
ballot was not an expression of opinion or judgment, not
an intelligent exercise of suffrage, but plainly a dictated
coal company vote, as much so as if the agents of these
companies had marked the ballots without the interven-
tion of the voter. No more fraudulent and infamous
prostitution of the ballot is conceivable. ...
"Counsel contend that the closed precincts were an
'industrial necessity,' and for such reason the conduct of
the coal companies during the campaign was justified.
However such conduct may be viewed when confined to
the private property of such corporations in their private
when they were dealing with such territory after it had
been dedicated to a public use, and particularly involving
the right of the people to exercise their duties and powers
as electors in a popular government.
“ The fact appears that the members of the board of
county commissioners and all other county officers were
Republicans, and as stated by counsel for the contestees,
the success of the Republican candidates was considered by
the coal companies, vital to their interests. The close re-
lationship of the coal companies and the Republican offi-
cials and candidates appears to have been so marked both
before and during the campaign, as to justify the conclu-
sion that such officers regarded their duty to the coal com-
panies as paramount to their duty to the public service.
To say that the closed precincts were not so created to
suit the convenience and interests of these corporations,
or that they were not so formed with the advice and con-
sent of these corporations, is to discredit human intelli-
gence, and to deny human experience. The plain purpose
of the formation of the new precincts was that the coal
companies might have opportunity to conduct and control
the elections therein, just as such elections were con-
ducted. The irresistible conclusion is that these closed
POSTSCRIPT
393
with the connivance of the representatives of the coal com-
panies, if not by their express command.
« There can be no free, open and fair election as con-
templated by the constitution, where private industrial
corporations so throttle public opinion, deny the free ex-
ercise of choice by sovereign electors, dictate and control
all election officers, prohibit public discussion of public
questions, and imperially command what citizens may and
what citizens may not, peacefully and for lawful purposes,
enter upon election or public territory. ...
“We find no such example of fraud within the books,
and must seek the letter and spirit of the law in a free
government, as a scale in which to weigh such con-
duct....
“ The denial of the right of peaceful assemblage, can
have been for no other purpose than to influence the elec-
tion. There was no disturbance in any of these precincts
after they were created, up to the time of the election, and
up to the time of this trial. The Federal troops were
present at all times to preserve the peace and to protect
life and property. There was no reason to anticipate any
disturbance. Therefore this bold denial was an inexcusa-
ble and corrupt violation of the natural and inalienable
rights of the citizens.
.“ The defence relies not upon conflicting evidence, but
upon the contention that the conduct of the election was
justified as an “industrial necessity.
“We have heard much in this state in recent years as
to the denial of inherent and constitutional rights of citi-
zens being justified by 'military necessity,' but this we
believe is the first time in our experience when the viola-
tion of the fundamental rights of freemen has been at-
tempted to be justified by the plea of 'industrial neces-
sity.
« Even if we were to concede that there may be some
of the esse precin
The
394
KING COAL
palliation in the plea of military necessity on the theory
that such acts purport to be acts of the government itself,
through its military arm and with the purpose of preserv-
ing the public peace and safety: yet that a private cor-
poration, with its privately armed forces, may violate the
most sacred right of the citizenship of the state and find
lawful excuse in the plea of private 'industrial necessity'
savours too much of anarchy to find approval by courts of
justice.
“ This case clearly comes within another exception to
the rule, in that it is plain that the findings were influ-
enced by the bias and prejudice of the trial judge.
“A careful reading of the record discloses the rejection
by the court of so much palpably pertinent and competent
testimony offered by the contestors, as to force the conclu-
sion that the trial judge was influenced by bias and preju-
dice, to the extent at least, charged in the application for
a change of venue, and sufficient in itself to justify a
reversal of judgment. ...
“For the foregoing reasons the judgment of the court
in each case before us, is reversed, and the entire poll in
the said precincts of Niggerhead, Ravenwood, Walsen
Mine, Oakview, Pryor, Rouse and Cameron is annulled,
and held for naught, and the election in each of said pre-
cincts is hereby set aside. This leaves a substantial and
unquestioned majority for each of the contestors in the
county, and which entitles each contestor to be declared
elected to the office for which he was a candidate.
“We find further, that J. B. Farr, the defendant in
error, was not and is not the duly elected sheriff of Huer-
fano county, and that E. L. Neelley, the plaintiff in error,
was and is the duly elected sheriff of said county. It is
therefore ordered that the said county, and that the said
E. L. Neelley, immediately and upon qualification as re-
quired by law, enter and discharge the duties of the said
office of sheriff of Huerfano county. ..."
POSTSCRIPT
395
So much for the court opinion upon coal-camp politics.
In relation thereto, the writer has only one com-
ment to offer. Let the reader not drop the matter with
the idea that because one set of corrupt officials have been
turned out of office in one American county, therefore
justice has been vindicated, and there is no longer need
to be concerned about the conditions portrayed in “King
Coal.” The defeat of the “King of Huerfano County ”
is but one step in a long road which the miners of Colo-
rado have to travel if ever they are to be free men. The
industrial power of the great corporations remains un-
touched by this decision; and this power is greater than
any political power ever wielded by the government of
Huerfano County, or even of the state of Colorado. This
industrial power is a deep, far-spreading root; and so
long as it is allowed to thrive, it will send up again and
again the poisonous plant of political “malconduct, fraud
and corruption.” The citizens and workers of such in-
dustrial communities, whether in Colorado, in West Vir-
ginia, Alabama, Michigan or Minnesota, in the Chicago
stock-yards, the steel-mills of Pittsburg, the woollen-mills
of Lawrence or the silk-mills of Paterson, will find that
they have neither peace nor freedom, until they have abol-
ished the system of production for profit, and established
in the field of industry what they are supposed to have
already in the field of politics -- a government of the peo-
ple, by the people, for the people.
1
NOTE: On the day that the author finished the read-
ing of the proofs of “King Coal," the following item
appeared in his daily newspaper :
COLORADO MINE WORKERS ASK LEAVE
TO STRIKE
[BY A. P. NIGHT WIRE]
DENVER (Colo.), June 14. — Officers of the United
396
KING COAL
Mine Workers representing members of that organisation
employed by the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company, have
telegraphed their national officers asking permission to
strike.
At the morning session a resolution was adopted ex-
pressing disapprobation of the action of J. F. Welborn,
president of the fuel company, for failure to attend the
meeting, which was a part of the “peace programme”
to prevent industrial differences in the State during the
war.
The grievances of the men, according to John Mc-
Lennan, spokesman for them, centre about the operation
of the so-called “Rockefeller plan” at the mines. Mc-
Lennan said the failure of Mr. Welborn to attend the
meeting and discuss these grievances with the men pre-
cipitated the strike agitation.
THE END
Printed in the United States of America.

THE following pages contain advertisements of a few of the
Macmillan novels.
His Family
BY ERNEST POOLE
12mo, $1.50
“No devotee of good fiction will wish to miss it."-Chicago
Daily Tribune.
"In ‘His Family' Ernest Poole reveals the mind and the
soul of an American business man at home and at work.
Mr. Poole has written a very fine, a very truthful, a very
appealing novel. It is peculiarly American in its atmosphere,
in its theme, in its characters, and it is far more representa-
tive of American life as it actually is than tales of the West
and tales of the slums that deliberately wear that label for the
purpose of deluding us into thinking that they represent the
sum and substance of our social characteristics and national
existence. It combines the best of the romantic with the
best of the realistic, and it proves Mr. Poole to be gifted
with a sense of the necessity for truth in fiction as well as
with a rare imaginative insight. If English or French read-
ers, or readers of any other nation, wish to gain an accurate
knowledge of life as it is lived in an American family and
an American community, they need only read Mr. Poole's
novel.”--Boston Transcript.
"It is the greatest story that has come from the publishers
this spring; great in its grasp of life, great in its masterful
handling of pressing social and educational problems, and
above all, great in the sincerity of its purpose.”—Philadelphia
Evening Ledger.
“If the great novel of New York City is to be written
Ernest Poole is far and away the most promising candidate
for the distinction. He has come so close to that achievement
in ‘His Family' that only the verdict of time can be authorita-
tive as to the standing of his book.”—Brooklyn Daily Eagle.
“Will materially strengthen Mr. Poole's position in Ameri-
can letters for those who have read it pronounce it even more
vivid and masterly study of life than was 'The Harbor.”_
N. Y. Telegraph.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York
The Banks of Colne
BY EDEN PHILLPOTTS
Author of “Green Alleys,” “Old Delabole,” etc.
$1.50
The plot and characters of Mr. Phillpott's new
novel, The Banks of Colne” are drawn from two
intensely interesting industries of the Devonshire
country—a great flower nursery and landscape
gardening concern, and the oyster fisheries on
the coast.
The story develops in a leisurely way with
the remarkable descriptions of nature which have
characterized all of Mr. Phillpott's writings.
The people are real. They have grown up out
of the soil on which they play out their little
drama, and the natural settings seem to envelope
and colour their souls. This quality is partly a
result of Mr. Phillpott's way of working. He
goes to the locality which is to be the scene of
his story, and there he lives among the people,
getting to know them intimately and discovering
the fundamental relations between the people
and background.
"As long as we have such novelists as Mr.
Phillpotts we need have no fears for the future of
English fiction."-Boston Transcript.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York
Bromley Neighborhood
BY ALICE BROWN
“The Prisoner" found a high place in the popular estima-
tion. This latest work of Alice Brown surpasses her previous
accomplishment in the mellowed and finished art which it dis-
plays. The characters are consistent, real and moving, their
personalities being treated from within as well as from without,
produce well-rounded figures.
There is a war time element in the book, treated with deep
sincerity and with a fine and powerful touch. It promises to
rank as one of the best American novels of the year along with
Poole's "His Family."
Jerry
BY JACK LONDON
12mo, $1.50
“ It is one of the author's best efforts."-The Boston Globe.
" Jerry is one of the dearest of dog-creatures, high-hearted,
of heaven-sent courage, devoted and loving and wise, and
Mr. London has written his story with penetrating and loving
sympathy and understanding. It is a good note for a man to
lay down his pen upon.”—New York Times.
" It would seem as if the author had realised that he must
leave behind a story in which all his versatility of imagination
and talent are combined. It is a tale -- first of all of the
South Seas; second, it is a tale of adventure, of thrilling, swift-
moving events; third, it is rich with the author's knowledge
of human nature; and last, it is the story of a dog — the kind
of dog that Jack London, or perhaps Kipling, alone could
create, a dog like the hero of The Call of the Wild,' which
responds to an instinct that has been inherited from generations
of pure blooded ancestors.”—The Bookseller, Newsdealer and
Stationer.
“Jerry himself is wonderful, but not too wonderful for
credence. He is alert, affectionate, lion-hearted, a four-footed
prodigy. He lingers pleasantly in memory."-Boston Herald.
“The dash and vigour with which the story is told, the truth-
fulness of the descriptions will make even those who are not
hardened by cave man literature put up with the brutality of
the facts.”-New York Sun.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York
NEW MACMILLAN FICTION
Changing Winds
By ST. JOHN G. ERVINE
$1.60
Wells has pictured the tragedy of war as it falls
upon people looking as it were the other way. Mr.
Ervine in this novel “Changing Winds," shows the
same tragic force falling upon four young men as
sparkling and vehemently alive as ever were, looking
directly and intently at life in all its aspects; and ac-
cepting war (all but one of them) almost blithely when
it comes.
"We do not believe a thoughtful reader will wish to
skip any of the 571 pages in Changing Winds," says
the Boston Herald of St. John G. Ervine's new book.
"It is easily the most robust novel of recent months.
... It is refreshing to find an Irishman able to write
about Ireland sanely and a pleasure to discover in
Changing Winds one who seems likely to rank with
this generation's foremost writers of English fiction.”
This opinion as to Ervine's place in literature is sec-
onded by William Lyon Phelps of Yale University. “I
have read Changing Winds with great interest," he
writes. "I think Mr. Ervine is one of the ablest of
our contemporary novelists."
"A thoughtful, absorbingly interesting novel.” —
New York Times.
"Distinctly one of the more important works of
fiction of the season ... admirably done and is both
touching and dramatic.”_Outlook.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York
Louisburg Square
BY ROBERT CUTLER
III. 12m0, $1.50
It's an interesting comment that the New York Tribune
makes in its review of Robert Cutler's Louisburg Square:
"Thackeray wrote a novel without a hero; Mr. Cutler has
written one without a villain, and we like it. It is a novelty.
The average novel, like the average play, has a villain, if
merely to be a foil to the hero. It has somebody whom we
detest or whom we should not like to meet, but this has none.
There is not a person in it who does not in a measure appeal to
our sympathies and whom we should not like to meet. Most
of them, indeed, are thoroughly likable, even lovable.”
The Brooklyn Eagle makes one or two striking comparisons
in its review of Louisburg Square. “This book," says the
critic of that paper, “is one of the first novels which make,
or at least promise to make, literary history. ... Some readers
may recall that Henry James once wrote a story about North
Washington Square filled with the atmosphere of a bygone
New York. Louisburg Square bears about the same relation to
Boston that Washington Square did to New York some fifteen
or twenty years ago before Greenwich Village had become the
haunt of Bohemia and the arts. But Mr. Cutler is more than
one generation from Henry James. Although he enjoys and
apparently understands the nice distinctions of the most ex-
clusive and scornful of the socially elect, his account of the
proceedings under the roofs of his old families is brisk and en-
tertaining. He manages to tell as attractive a love story about
his aristocrats as if they were plebeians, and he does it without
striking an attitude which would recall Gilbert's witty lines :
“Spurn not the nobly born
With love affected,
Nor treat with virtuous scorn
The well connected.
“Mr. Cutler treats his well connected' as though they were
merely human, and so treating, he makes them so."
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York
n-
Gold Must Be Tried by Fire
Cloth, $1.50
A novel revealing a character of supreme charm-
a girl of deep emotional temperament, rebelling
against the sordidness of her monotonous environ-
ment in a silk mill and seeking, in a moment of im-
pulse, relief through a hasty marriage with a man
whose character, when revealed, is utterly loath-
some to her. The gold in her nature is finally tried
and after many vicissitudes is purged in the fires of
fortitude through a succession of thrilling ordeals.
“A story in the strong, vigorous style in favor
among the best American novelists. Power is the
striking quality. It is true to type, restrained in
manner, and moves steadily toward the climax.
Much of the volume is devoted to a study of labor
conditions, which gives it a permanent value quite
apart from the tale itself. It has a Catholic tone,
which, however, is not obtrusive-thoroughly whole-
some and well worth reading."-America.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York
God the Invisible King
By H. G. WELLS
· 12mo, $1.25
Here is a volume which promises to provoke as much dis-
cussion as did the novel which preceded it," Mr. Britling Sees
It Through.” In fact its nature is such as to presuppose a
reading by all those who enjoyed “Mr. Britling." For in this
book, which has been aptly described as a study of Mr. Brit-
ling's religion, Mr. Wells pursues further and to interesting
and significant conclusions, the religious ideas which were so
powerfully presented in the closing pages of the earlier volume.
Apparently “God the Invisible King" is to make many
friends as well as to arouse the opposition of many who do not
agree with its contentions. This is indicated in the New York
Tribune's review: “There will be widespread dissent from
much of Mr. Wells's belief. But there will be general respect
for it and we shall expect to see his statement of it provoke
and stimulate much discussion among the orthodox and un-
orthodox and among all who think seriously upon the things
which pertain to the soul of man.”
Of similar import is the New York Times's notice: “God
the Invisible King” is written with the sincerity and simplicity
of utter conviction, whatever opinion one may have of its mes-
sage, and with a compactness and conciseness of style to which
Mr. Wells's books are too often a stranger. It has also the
vividness of phraseology that comes from the vividness of ex-
perience and depth of conviction, and a certain flame combined
of kindled imagination and exalted feeling glows all through
its pages. In precision of idea and clarity of statement, in
keenness of insight and closely argued presentation, it shows
Mr. Wells at his best. Nothing else that he has written has
so embodied and placed forth his own strong and vivid person-
ality.”
"Mr. Wells's book, like many a surgeon's knife, will strike
thoughtful, modern readers whose minds are disturbed by
many doubts as inflicting pain in order to heal.”-Philadelphia
Public Ledger.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York

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