ade
him.

"Tak' that, then, ye dirty brute!" and Geordie smashed his fist straight
between Walker's eyes.

Roused at last, Walker showed fight and swung at Sinclair. He was the
younger man by about two years, and had not had the hard work and bad
conditions of the other, but Sinclair was a strong man, and was now
roused to a great pitch, so he struck out with terrific force. Then the
two closed and swayed about, struggling, cursing and punching each other
with brutal might. Sinclair's extra weight and more powerful build soon
began to tell, and he was able to send home one or two heavy blows on
Black Jock's face and body. Panting and blowing, they separated, and as
they did so, Sinclair caught his opponent a straight hard crash on the
jaw that sent him rolling to the muddy road, and feeling as if a
thousand fists had struck him all at once.

Walker lay for a short time, then gathering himself together, he rose to
his feet and set off at a quick pace in the direction of his house,
whilst Geordie, too, turned homewards, feeling that it was useless to
follow him.

Mrs. Sinclair did not hear what had happened till a week later, when
Geordie, being in a communicative mood, told her of the affair in
simple, unaffected terms.

Shortly afterwards a great event happened in Lowwood, which made the
deepest impression on Robert's mind. His father still being out of work,
had sent a letter to Robert Smillie, who was then beginning to be heard
of more and more in mining circles. In the letter Geordie explained, to
the best of his ability, the local circumstances, and he mentioned his
own case of persecution, and his agitation for the starting of a union.
Smillie sent word in reply that he would come in two days, and Geordie
enthusiastically set to work to organize a meeting, going round every
house in the district, telling the folks that Smillie was coming, and
exhorting them to turn out and hear him.

"I dinna think it'll do any guid," said old Tam Smith, when Geordie
called upon him. "It's a' richt talkin' about a union, but the mair ye
fecht the mair ye're oppressed. The bosses ha'e the siller, an' they can
ay buy the brains to serve them."

Geordie made no reply, for he knew from experience that it was only too
true.

"Just look at young Jamie Soutar," continued Tam. "He is yin o' the
cleverest men i' the country. He wrocht wi' me as a laddie when he went
into the pit, an' noo' he's travelin' manager for that big compa