Hal looked at him blankly. He had taken it for granted the publication of the facts would force the company to move. But Keating explained that the _Gazette_ read mainly by working-people, and so had comparatively little influence. “We’re an afternoon paper,” he said; “and when people have been reading lies all morning, it’s not easy to make them believe the truth in the afternoon.” “But won’t the story go to other papers--over the country, I mean?” “Yes, we have a press service; but the papers are all like the _Gazette_--poor man’s papers. If there’s something very raw, and we keep pounding away for a long time, we can make an impression; at least we limit the amount of news the Western press association can suppress. But when it comes to a small matter like sealing up workingmen in a mine, all we can do is to worry the ‘G. F. C.’ a little.” So Hal was just where he had begun! “I must find some other plan,” he exclaimed. “I don’t see what you can do,” replied the other. There was a pause, while the young miner pondered. “I had thought of going up to Western City and appealing to the editors,” he said, a little uncertainly. “Well, I can tell you about that--you might as well save your car-fare. They wouldn’t touch your story.” “And if I appealed to the Governor?” “In the first place, he probably wouldn’t see you. And if he did, he wouldn’t do anything. He’s not really the Governor, you know; he’s a puppet put up there to fool you. He only moves when Harrigan pulls a string.” “Of course I knew he was Old Peter’s man,” said Hal. “But then”--and he concluded, somewhat lamely, “What _can_ I do?” A smile of pity came upon the reporter’s face. “I can see this is the first time you’ve been up against ‘big business.’” And then he added, “You’re young! When you’ve had more experience, you’ll leave these problems to older heads!” But Hal failed to get the reporter’s sarcasm. He had heard these exact words in such deadly seriousness from his brother! Besides, he had just come from scenes of horror. “But don’t you see, Mr. Keating?” he exclaimed. “It’s impossible for me to sit still while those men die?” “I don’t know about your sitting still,” said the other. “All I know is that all your moving about isn’t going to do them any good.” Hal turned to Edstrom and MacKellar. “Gentlemen,” he said, “listen to me for a minute.” And there was a note of pleading in his voice--as if he thought they were deliberately refusing to help him! “We’ve got to do something about this. We’ve _got_ to do something! I’m new at the game, as Mr. Keating says; but you aren’t. Put your minds on it, gentlemen, and help me work out a plan!” There was a long silence. “God knows,” said Edstrom, at last. “I’d suggest something if I could.” “And I, too,” said MacKellar. “You’re up against a stone-wall, my boy. The government here is simply a department of the ‘G. F. C.’ The officials are crooks--company servants, all of them.”