“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 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 out of the trouble. There may be fighting.”