Some of them bring in captives who have escaped death, but who still have felt the sting of the bullets.

Of the sixty miners, twenty-three are killed outright; ten are mortally wounded; twenty-one have less serious wounds.

Six have run the gauntlet and are fleeing back to Hazleton.

The triumphant march of the police to Hazleton is begun.

"We will carry the wounded," says the sheriff. "They might get through to Harleigh and Latimer."

"We will round up the six who escaped," Captain Grout a.s.sures the sheriff. He then details ten men to run down the miners who have eluded capture.

This is an easy matter, as the footprints of the miners are perfectly distinct in the soft snow. On the six trails the men set off, as a pack of hounds on the scent of game.

This man-hunt results in an addition of _six_ to the list of the slain.

Gorman Purdy's orders have been carried out.

His police have been sworn in as deputies; they have met the miners and have "fired first."

The sanct.i.ty of the law enveloped their act. They shot as _Deputies_.

They dispersed a band of miners who were on the highway, armed, according to the sheriff's version, "with sticks," and bent on creating trouble in Harleigh.

Did it matter that the "sticks" were flag staffs on which were displayed the White Flag of truce, and the Emblem of Liberty?

CHAPTER VI.

A STAND FOR CONSCIENCE SAKE.

News of the ma.s.sacre on the highway can not be suppressed. A wave of indignation sweeps over the country. Newspapers, clergymen, statesmen, ordinary citizens are of one opinion, that the sheriff and his deputies should be made to suffer for their dastardly acts. The result of the agitation is a call for trial for a case of murder. The Grand Jury of Luzerne County find an indictment against Sheriff Marlin and Captain Grout. These men are placed on trial.

Gorman Purdy at first is highly elated over the result of the sheriff's summary action against the miners. "It has taught the miners a good lesson," he a.s.serts openly.

The morning after the Grand Jury returns its indictment, Purdy enters Harvey Trueman's office.

The relationship between Purdy and Trueman is no longer strained. In three months time Harvey will marry Ethel. He is to live at the Purdy mansion until his own house can be built.

"You have read the papers this morning?" Purdy asks.

"Yes. It begins to look serious for the sheriff and Grout. I understand that they are to be imprisoned to-day."

"Now I want to have a talk with you about defending them."

"Defending them!" exclaims Trueman. "You want me to defend them?"

"It was in our interests that they acted," says Purdy, "and the least we can do is to defend them."

"It was not in my interests, nor was it at my suggestion that the Coal and Iron Police were sent to Hazleton. You must remember that I deprecated that step."

"Well, we won't go over that matter anew, Harvey; the defense of the Sheriff and Captain Grout is essential to the interests of the Paradise Coal Company. You are the chief counsel of the Company, and I look to you to secure their acquittal."

"But you cannot want me to defend two men who are guilty of cold blooded murder," protests Trueman. "I am the last man in the world to ignore the sanct.i.ty of the law. When I see the highest law of the land trodden under foot by an ignorant and arrogant sheriff, I wish to see the law enforced against him as it should be against the commonest offender."

"It's all very well to have high ideals of law and justice," Purdy observes, with a cynical smile, "but you cannot be guided by them when a commercial interest is involved. The conviction of the sheriff would lay us open to the violence of the mob."

"You can find a more capable man than I to defend the prisoners."

"There is no one who is as familiar with the mining life as you are; I have thought the matter over carefully before broaching it to you. There is no way out of it, Harvey, you must take the case in hand. It is not the company's request. I make it personal. I want you to do your best to get these men off."

"Mr. Purdy, I cannot comply with your request."

"You refuse to oblige me?"

"I refuse to defend men who I believe have committed murder."

"I am an older man than you, Harvey Trueman, and I caution you to think twice before you refuse to obey the request of the man who has made you what you are." Purdy is white with rage, for he feels that Trueman will remain obdurate.

"It may seem an act of ingrat.i.tude, but I cannot suffer my conscience to be outraged by defending the perpetrators of an atrocious crime."

"Your conscience will cost you dear. If you do not defend this case you may consider your connection with the Paradise Coal Company at an end.

You sever all bonds that have united us, and your marriage to my daughter will be impossible. Is the gratification of a supersensitive conscience to be bought at such a price?"

"There must be something back of your demand," Trueman declares.

"There is only the just claim that I have on you to work for my interests."

"Mr. Purdy, I was a man before I met you. I am indebted to you for my present position; yet I am not willing to pay for its retention by forfeiting my honor. If you insist on me defending the case, I tell you I would sooner pay the penalty you name."

Trueman's voice is tremulous. He realizes that his decision has cost him not alone a position of great value, but all chance of wedding Ethel Purdy.

"You will live to regret this day, Harvey Trueman," Purdy cries menacingly. "Whatever is due you from the Paradise Coal Company will be paid you to-day. Henceforth you will find office room elsewhere.

Remember, sir, I forbid you to have any communication with my daughter."

With these words Purdy walks out of Trueman's office.

"It may be better for me to get out of this d.a.m.nable atmosphere while I still have a spark of manhood left," Trueman muses, as he sits at his desk. "If I remained here many years more I should be as heartless as Purdy himself.

"I wonder how Ethel will act in this crisis? She loves me, that I would swear to with my life, but can she sacrifice her fortune to marry me? I cannot expect her to do so. No, it would be too much. I have money enough to live but I could not support her in the style to which she has been accustomed from her birth."

For an hour he sits intently thinking. He reviews the past. At the recollection of his school days and the first love he had experienced for Martha Densmore, a sigh escapes his lips.

"I might have been happy, had I married her," he says to himself.

"But then I should not have become a lawyer. What good have I done in the law? I have been the buffer for a heartless corporation. The president of the corporation demands of me to do an act that is against my manhood. I refuse and I am turned out like a worthless old horse.