“And well they might. They would take Julia Hale’s word for anything. Who that knew her wouldn’t?”
“You know her, then?”
“I was a student at Exeter. That means I know Julia Hale by report, at least. But I was more fortunate than the most of girls. I really met her and knew her well. Your father helped Miss Hale prepare you for school? Who is your father? I do not know your name.”
“Hobart! My father is superintendent of the mines at Bitumen.”
“I’ve heard of him, but I have never met him. He’s doing good work there.”
“Yes,” was the reply. “He hopes by Christmas to have every chamber supported by new props, and an exhaust engine which will pump out the gas and make explosions impossible.”
“I was not thinking of the mines when I said he did good work,” said her companion, and after a pause, “I think it is time we were getting into our car. I would not like the train to pull out without us. Look at the babies! Both asleep. Perhaps I can move them without wakening them.” But already Elizabeth had taken up the baby in her arms and was at the step of the car. As she waited for a trainman to help her on, she caught bits of the conversation between two men who stood on the rear platform of the smoker. They had been discussing the “coal-fields”, and were looking up at the mountain which they had just descended.
“There’s plenty there to supply the country for the next ten years. I wasn’t thinking of the supply when I spoke, but of the possibility of not being able to get it out. You remember how the hard-coal region was tied up for eight months or more.”
“There’s little danger here. The miners are satisfied—”
“Yes—satisfied until an agitator comes their way. If I was the Kettle Creek Mining Company, I’d keep that man out of my community. He’s bound to stir up bad blood.”