“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 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 justice 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 situation, 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 cracking, they are lying on the ground, gasping. But they are waiting—kept alive by the faith they have in their friends 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 waiting 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 Harrigan. “Who has done this?”
“His name is Enos Cartwright.”
“But who is he?”
“Just now when I said that I was seeking the criminal, I misled you a little, Percy. I did it because I wanted to collect my thoughts.” Hal paused: when he continued, 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 General 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!”
XIII
Knowing these people well, Hal could measure the effect of the thunderbolt he had hurled among them. They were people to whom good taste was the first of all 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 ‘muckrakers.’ 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 Cotton, 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!”
Hal waited, to give young Harrigan a chance to grasp this situation and to take command. But apparently young Harrigan was
