“When did I ask consideration?”
“Consideration for your brother, I mean.”
“Oh! Then your ordinance provides that the mayor—or is it the superintendent?—may show consideration for the brother of a law-breaker, by changing his penalty to expulsion from the town. Was it consideration for Tommie Burke that caused you to have his sister sent down the canyon?”
Cartwright clenched his hands. “I've had all I'll stand of this!”
He was again addressing Edward's back; and Edward turned and answered, “I don't blame you, sir.” Then to Hal, “I really think you've said enough!”
“I hope I've said enough,” replied Hal—“to convince you that the pretence of American law in this coal-camp is a silly farce, an insult and a humiliation to any man who respects the institutions of his country.”
“You, Mr. Warner,” said the superintendent, to Edward, “have had experience in managing coal-mines. You know what it means to deal with ignorant foreigners, who have no understanding of American law—”
Hal burst out laughing. “So you're teaching them American law! You're teaching them by setting at naught every law of your town and state, every constitutional guarantee—and substituting the instructions you get by telegraph from Peter Harrigan!”
Cartwright turned and walked to the door. “Young man,” said he, over his shoulder, “it will be necessary for you to leave North Valley this morning. I only hope your brother will be able to persuade you to leave without trouble.” And the bang of the door behind him was the superintendent's only farewell.