QUIET AFTERNOON AT WOODWARD.
Ethel enters Harvey's office just in time to avert a quarrel between the Coal King and his attorney. In her presence both men resume their normal reserve of manner.
"So you have come for your afternoon ride?" Purdy inquires, in a pleasant tone.
"Well, my dear, you shall not be disappointed. The matter Harvey and I were discussing can be deferred. Go and enjoy an hour's exercise. I shall be home when you arrive."
"Won't you go with us, papa?"
"Not to-day. I have a Board meeting to attend."
"I do wish you would pay as much attention to your health as you do to business. You are not looking well. Have you forgotten what the doctor told you about over-working?"
"No, my dear; I remember his advice; but he does not know what a responsibility rests upon me as the President of the Paradise Coal Company. If I did not attend to the details of this business, there would be a dozen competitors in the coal industry within a year. Even if I cannot go with you every day, you have Harvey as an escort. You two will not miss me. When I courted your mother, I should not have insisted upon a third party accompanying us on our rambles."
"Then we will join you at dinner," says Harvey, as he walks towards the door.
At the curb in front of the entrance of the office building, a groom stands holding the bridles of three magnificent hunters.
Harvey assists Ethel to her saddle and springs on to his horse. "Take Nero back to the stables," Harvey instructs the groom. "Mr. Purdy will not use him this afternoon."
The riders are soon out on the turnpike that leads to Woodward. For a November afternoon, the weather is delightful. The prospects of a bracing canter over the mountain roads could not be brighter. The high color on the cheeks of Harvey and Ethel show that they are not strangers to outdoor exercise. Indeed they are types of perfect physical condition.
Since the day Harvey Trueman became the attorney of the Paradise Coal Company, and the protege of Gorman Purdy, the young couple have been constant companions. They have been encouraged to seek each other's company by Mr. Purdy, who appreciated the worth of Harvey and who secretly hoped that the brilliant young lawyer would become one of his household.
"I have spoken to your father," Harvey says, as the horses climb slowly up one of the rough hills on the pike. "He has given his consent to our engagement."
"He's such a dear, good fellow, I knew he would not stand in the light of making me happy!" exclaims Ethel.
"Tell me all he said?" she inquires eagerly.
"He told me that he was glad you thought enough of me to wish to have me as your partner in life; that he had never had but one fear that you might fall in love with some worthless snob, who would make you unhappy and seek only the fortune which you would bring him.
"Your father was kind enough to say that he believed I would continue to be attentive to my business, and to his interests. What do you think he is going to give you as a marriage dot?"
"Don't make me guess. You know I am never able to guess a riddle."
"He is going to present you with his new villa at Newport."
"How could he have known that I was wishing for just that one thing? O, won't it be jolly to go there and spend our honeymoon," Ethel exclaims gleefully.
"We will make your father come there and spend the summer. He really must take better care of his health."
Discussing the details of their cloudless future, the lovers enter the dingy mining town of Woodward. The weather-beaten cottages, which never have known a coat of paint, do not attract their attention. The groups of ragged children playing in the dusty road, scurry out of the path of the horses. On the hillside to the left stands the Jumbo Breaker, the largest coal crusher in the world. Its rambling walls rise to a height of several hundred feet up a steep incline. The noise of the machinery within can be heard distinctly from the roadway. The grind, grind, grind of the mammoth crushers, which sound as a perpetual monotone to the townspeople, is lost on the ears of Ethel and Harvey.
Not until they reach the center of the town do they realize they are at the end of their ride.
"We never rode those five miles so quickly before," says Ethel.
"O, yes we have. Why, it has taken us longer to-day than ever," Harvey replies, as he looks at his watch.
"But of course it has not seemed long. We have had so much to talk about. We must make good time on the ride home or we will be late for dinner."
They turn their horses and are off at a brisk trot back toward
Wilkes-Barre.
On passing through the upper end of Woodward they have not noticed a clump of men and women standing at the doorway of a miserable hovel, setting back from the road.
Now the men and women are in the road and block the way.
"I wonder what can have happened," exclaims Ethel.
"Another accident, I presume," is Harvey's answer. "It does seem as though the Jumbo Breaker injures more men than any other in the district. It's all through using the new crusher. It's dangerous. I said so from the moment I inspected the model. But it saves a hundred men's labor; the company will not abolish its use."
They are now so near the crowd that the horses have to be reigned in.
"Who's hurt?" Harvey asks of a miner.
"Nobody hurt, sir, only the Sheriff putting out Braun's widow."
The scene in the court room looms up before Harvey. He sees the bent form of the miners' widow as she had bent over her little boy, weeping at the decision of the Judge who had said that she could not claim damages for the killing of her husband. He thinks of the check that is in his pocket—the reward he has gained for winning the case for the Paradise Company. A blush comes to his cheeks; his inner conscience is awakened.
In the doorway of the hovel stands Sheriff Marlin. He is superintending the eviction.
There are several miners in the group who had been at the court house. They look at Harvey with glances which speak the thoughts they dare not utter.
Then, as a hunted fawn which will seek shelter of the huntsmen who are to slay her, the widow rushes from the house. She runs to the head of Ethel's horse and falls prostrate at the animal's feet.
"In mercy's name, don't let them put me out to freeze," she wails. "It is not for myself. I don't mind the cold; but little Eric, he will freeze to death.
"You give your horses shelter; will you let a child die on the roadside? It is not my fault that the rent is not paid. My husband never owed a cent in his life. He was killed in the mines, and the company will give me nothing—nothing. I won't ask for charity. All I ask for is a chance to work. I can break coal. I can dig it. I am willing to work even in the Jumbo, till it kills me. Anything to get food and a roof for my child."
This tragic scene is enacted, before Sheriff Marlin and his deputies grasp the situation. They do
