everything in them belonged to the companyâthe stores, the saloons, the schools, the churches, the homes of the miners. They were âclosedâ campsâthat is, no one could enter them without a pass from the company, not even a doctor or a priest. Sometimes they kept out the state mine-inspector and his deputies.
Hal told how he had got a job at North Valley, and of the mine explosion which he had witnessed. The company had sealed the pit-mouth, meaning to sacrifice the lives of the men to save its coal from catching fire. It had chanced that young Percy Harrigan had been at Pedro, with his private train, and a party of friends, and Hal had gone to him and forced him to go up and have the mine opened. Adelaide, of course, had heard about that; now Hal was interested to hear what she had to contribute to the storyâwhat this person had said and that, the terrible rage of Old Peter Harrigan, his threats against the Warner family. He would doubtless take it out on Halâs brother Edward, the business-man of the family; he could not very well compel the faculty of Harrigan College to âflunkâ the amateur sociologist!
Hal came to the matter which was on his mind. There was a young Irish girl, Mary Burke, who had lived in these camps all her life, with a younger brother and sister to take care of, and no one but a drunken father to help. When Hal had first met her, she had been desperate, without hope either for herself or for the miners; but when the disaster had come, she had flamed out in a way that had amazed him. She had shown courage and devotion, the stuff out of which a leader of her people might be made. Hal was trying to figure out some way for her to take care of herself and the young people. Could not Adelaide give her a place as a servant in her home? She was young and handsome, with a treasure of auburn hair; also she would surely be what the advertisements described as âwilling and obligingâ. She could be made into a parlor-maid or a waitress, and would have a new start in life. She would save part of her wages; also she would improve her mind. It would be an adventure for a young matron of society to have a revolutionary parlor-maid!
Then Hal stopped; his friend was eyeing him closely. âHal Warner,â she said, âwhatâs this youâre letting me in for?â
âHow do you mean?â
âYou go and live in a mining-campâa rich young scapegraceâand you come out with a handsome girl with a treasure of what you politely term auburn hair. And Jessie Arthur has seen this treasure, your brother Edward has seen itâso we canât keep the secret.â
âWhy should we, Adelaide?â
âDonât you know what people are going to say?â
âOf courseâthey have said it already. But I canât refuse to help the girl for that, can I?â
âNo,â was the reply. But if I am to help her, at least I have to know how matters stand. Is the girl in love with you?â
Hal hesitated. He had not intended to go into that aspect of the matter. âWhy, I donât know.â
âYouâll have to deal with me frankly.â
âWellââ And he laughed. âPossibly she is, a little. You understand, sheâs had no chanceââ
âI can understand quite easily. Youâre a young god out of the skies to her, sheâs ready to follow you to the ends of the earth. And you, with the usual stupidity of a man, havenât realized what she means.â
Hal was silent. That was not precisely the situation, but it would do for the present, he thought.
âHaving been brought up under the clerical supervision of Will Wilmerding, you have treated her in saintly fashion, so you have a good conscience, and donât care what the world may say about me or my parlor-maids. Is that it?â
He laughed again. âYes, thatâs it.â
âYouâre so naive,
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child