re of Wilkes-Barre.

The men nod to each other, and separate.

"What did he say?" a man demands of Metz, in a weak voice. The
questioner is a typical miner. Death has placed its irrevocable stamp
upon him; he has served his three years in the pits; has been
transferred to the breakers when the signs of failing strength are
perceived by the mine overseer. In another year he will be in the hands
of the mortuary vulture; his last week's earnings will go to pay for the
hard earned grave that is grudgingly given "A Miner."

"He says the mines will close."

"Yes, and we will starve. Well, you can tell him that we won't."

"I told him that the men were desperate."

"And he laughed at you. Why wouldn't he? We have threatened to strike
for three years. It's getting to be an old story. This time it's our
turn to laugh."

"What do you mean, Eric?" is the anxious query of Metz. He detects a
hidden significance in the miner's words.

"Mean! Why I mean that we are _going_ to strike this time, and that it
will be the biggest fight the coal region has ever seen.

"We can't get the mine owners to arbitrate, but we can get the coal
miners to unite. If one man is shut out to starve we will all go out."

"And our places will be filled by imported miners," interjects the
foreman.

"Not this time. We will have our pickets out in all directions, and
every train will be boarded. The men the mine owners bring on will be
told to keep away."

As the men speak they are unconscious of the approach of the Sheriff of
Luzerne County. He has apparently been watching the movements of Metz.
All the morning he has shadowed the mine foreman, now he steals up
behind the two and stands within earshot. He overhears their words.

"Let me tell you one thing," he calls out in a shrill voice, as he steps
up to them, "you don't want to forget that there is a Sheriff in Luzerne
County when you count on winning out in this strike."

"We will do nothing that will require your attention," sententiously
retorts the miner. "We have had one taste of Pennsylvania justice, at
Homestead, and don't want another."

"I have my eye on you two, and if there is any trouble I'll know whom to
hold responsible," continues the Sheriff. Then he walks on towards the
office of the Paradise Coal Company. He enters the building and is soon
in the private office of the President.

The miners walk on in silence towards their homes in the East End of the
town across the B