Hugh and Tom were in their working clothes—coarse trousers, shirts, and heavy shoes, without vest or coat. Their flabby caps lay on the floor behind them, and their tousled hair hung over their foreheads almost to their eyes. Tom had no side whiskers, but a heavy mustache and chin whiskers, while the face of Hugh was covered with a spiky black beard that stood out from his face as if each hair was charged with electricity.
Nero, the hound, raised his nose from between his paws and looked up at the visitor. Then, as if satisfied, he lowered his head and resumed his nap.
Bradley, as I have said, was angry with himself for walking into such a trap. It was not fear, but a deep dislike of the man who was the head and front of the trouble at the mills. He was the spokesman and leader of the strikers, and he was the real cause of the stoppage of the works. Harvey looked upon him as insolent and brutal, and he was sure that no circumstances could arise that would permit him to do a stroke of work in the Rollo Mills again.
"Good evening," said Harvey stiffly, "I did not expect to find you here."
Hansell nodded in reply to the salutation, but Hugh simply motioned with the hand that held the pipe toward a low stool standing near the middle of the apartment.
"Help yourself to a seat, Mr. Bradley; the presence of Tom and myself here is no odder than is your own."
"I suppose not," replied Harvey with a half-laugh, as he seated himself; "I started out for a walk to-day and went too far—that is, so far that I lost my way. I had about made up my mind that I would have to sleep in the woods, when I caught the light from your window and made for it."
The glance that passed between Hugh and Tom—sly as it was—did not elude the eye of Harvey Bradley. He saw that his explanation was not believed, but he did not care; there was no love between him and them, and, had it not looked as if he held them in fear, he would have turned and walked away after stepping across the threshold. As it was, he meant to withdraw as soon as he could do it without seeming to be afraid.
"Is this the first time you have taken a walk up this way?" asked Hugh.
"The fact that I lost my way ought to answer that question; how far is it, please, to Bardstown?"