King Coal/Book II/Chapter 9

Having settled the matter of the committee, Hal told the assembly how Alec Stone had asked him to spy upon the men. He thought they should know about it; the bosses might try to use it against him, as Olson had warned. "They may tell you I'm a traitor," he said. "You must trust me."

"We trust you!" exclaimed Mike, with fervour; and the others nodded their agreement.

"All right," Hal answered. "You can rest sure of this one thing--if I get onto that tipple, you're going to get your weights!"

"Hear, hear!" cried "Big Jack," in English fashion. And a murmur ran about the room. They did not dare make much noise, but they made clear that that was what they wanted.

Hal sat down, and began to unroll the bandage from his wrist. "I guess I'm through with this," he said, and explained how he had come to wear it.

"What?" cried Old Mike. "You fool me like that?" And he caught the wrist, and when he had made sure there was no sign of swelling upon it, he shook it so that he almost sprained it really, laughing until the tears ran down his cheeks. "You old son-of-a-gun!" he exclaimed. Meantime Klowoski was telling the story to Zamierowski, and Jerry Minetti was explaining it to Wresmak, in the sort of pidgin-English which does duty in the camps. Hal had never seen such real laughter since coming to North Valley.

But conspirators cannot lend themselves long to merriment. They came back to business again. It was agreed that the hour for the committee's visit to the superintendent should be quitting-time on the morrow. And then John Edstrom spoke, suggesting that they should agree upon their course of action in case they were offered violence.

"You think there's much chance of that?" said some one.

"Sure there be!" cried Mike Sikoria. "One time in Cedar Mountain we go see boss, say air-course blocked. What you think he do them fellers? He hit them one lick in nose, he kick them three times in behind, he run them out!"

"Well," said Hal, "if there's going to be anything like that, we must be ready."

"What you do?" demanded Jerry.

It was time for Hal's leadership. "If he hits me one lick in the nose," he declared, "I'll hit him one lick in the nose, that's all."

There was a bit of applause at this. That was the way to talk! Hal tasted the joys of his leadership. But then his fine self-confidence met with a sudden check--a "lick in the nose" of his pride, so to speak. There came a woman's voice from the corner, low and grim: "Yes! And get ye'self killed for all your trouble!"

He looked towards Mary Burke, and saw her vivid face, flushed and frowning. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Would you have us turn and run away?"

"I would that!" said she. "Rather than have ye killed, I would! What'll ye do if he pulls his gun on ye?"

"Would he pull his gun on a committee?"

Old Mike broke in again. "One time in Barela--ain't I told you how I lose my cars? I tell weigh-boss somebody steal my cars, and he pull gun on me, and he say, 'Get the hell off that tipple, you old billy-goat, I shoot you full of holes!'"

Among his class-mates at college, Hal had been wont to argue that the proper way to handle a burglar was to call out to him, saying, "Go ahead, old chap, and help yourself; there's nothing here I'm willing to get shot for." What was the value of anything a burglar could steal, in comparison with a man's own life? And surely, one would have thought, this was a good time to apply the plausible theory. But for some reason Hal failed even to remember it. He was going ahead, precisely as if a ton of coal per day was the one thing of consequence in life!

"What shall we do?" he asked. "We don't want to back out."

But even while he asked the question, Hal was realising that Mary was right. His was the attitude of the leisure-class person, used to having his own way; but Mary, though she had a temper too, was pointing the lesson of self-control. It was the second time to-night that she had injured his pride. But now he forgave her in his admiration; he had always known that Mary had a mind and could help him! His admiration was increased by what John Edstrom was saying--they must do nothing that would injure the cause of the "big union," and so they must resolve to offer no physical resistance, no matter what might be done to them.

There was vehement argument on the other side. "We fight! We fight!" declared Old Mike, and cried out suddenly, as if in anticipation of the pain in his injured nose. "You say me stand that?"

"If you fight back," said Edstrom, "we'll all get the worst of it. The company will say we started the trouble, and put us in the wrong. We've got to make up our mind to rely on moral force."

So, after more discussion, it was agreed; every man would keep his temper--that is, if he could! So they shook hands all round, pledging themselves to stand firm. But, when the meeting was declared adjourned, and they stole out one by one into the night, they were a very sober and anxious lot of conspirators.