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