but will
probably be cut off."

Fear has anticipated the actual trend which events are to take. The
miners are parading the streets but have not formulated any definite
plan to attack the Purdy palace.

Superintendent Judson arrives and assumes charge of the house. He brings
definite news of the intention of the miners. They are bent on claiming
the body of Carl Metz to give it a public funeral. "We shall never be
able to prevent violence," he declares.

"The police and the militia have been summoned; but it will be hours
before they arrive."

"If there was some one here who could pacify the mob until the troops
come; there is no one they will heed."

"Perhaps I can pacify them," suggests Sister Martha.

"You can try," says the Superintendent, scrutinizing her closely. "You
are known as the friend of the miners; they may respect your wishes."

Inwardly he doubts her ability to check the mob; he feels, even, that
she may meet with physical violence at their hands. Yet his nature is so
small that he is eager to sacrifice her if it will keep the miners at
bay for an hour.

"I shall try to keep them in the town," Sister Martha assures him as she
departs. On reaching the centre of the town Sister Martha meets some of
the miner folk. A woman comes up to her and whispers:

"They have sent for the police. The work will be done before they get
here."

"What work?"

"Why, we are going to give Metz a decent funeral. He died for us. He
said in a letter,--died to set us free from Purdy."

"When are you going to demand the body?"

"This evening when the mines and shops close. We will all get together
and then the sheriff can't stop us."

An inspiration comes to Martha. She hurries to a telegraph station, and
sends the message to Trueman calling him to Wilkes-Barre.

"If he only gets here before the police or the troops, he can prevent
trouble," is the thought that consoles her. The hour that passes before
she receives word that he will arrive on the Keystone Express, seems an
eternity.

With the knowledge that Trueman will arrive at five o'clock she breathes
a sigh of relief. Again she mingles with the crowds which fill the
streets. Here and there she goes, begging of the men and women to
refrain from doing anything that they will regret later.

The afternoon wears on, and as rumors float through the town that the
Governor has called out the State Guard, the excitement increases.

At four o'clock Sister Marth