Half-an-hour's run by the train, and ten minutes' walk brought them to the place of meeting. Many thoughts passed through Phebe's mind during that short journey; how came it she should be led into such difficult positions?—how could she adequately deal with subjects so far removed from those of her everyday experience?
Several of the men were on the look-out for her; evidently her visit was expected, for a potato-basket had been turned up for her to stand on, and a chair provided for her to sit on. The men had gathered, about sixty of them, just at the junction of some country roads, and were standing under the shelter of a high barn-wall, for a rather cold wind was blowing.
Many a rough hand was stretched out in welcome to her, and though she was a stranger to some, no one seemed in the slightest to resent her coming.
"I'll speak first and set the ball a-rolling," she said, in her bright way; "Mr. Coates has told me about the trouble you are in, and it is very good of you to let me share it."
"It does one good to hear her voice agin," said one old man in a very audible whisper, which was followed quickly by a loud "Shut up!"
Phebe went on in her calm, low, but incisive voice, commenting on what Jim had told her, and then she asked, "Who is your spokesman here?"
"Ford!" called out a score of voices, and a thick-set man came forward.
"What do you wish Mr. Black to give you for the extra hour?" she asked.
"A shilling."
"And if he agrees to that, what would become of the Irishmen whom you say are on their way here?"