“Percy,” he continued, “you remember how you used to jump on me last year at college, because I listened to ‘muck-rakers.’ You saw fit to take personal offence at it. You knew that their tales couldn’t be true. But I wanted to see for myself, so I went to work in a coal-mine. I saw the explosion; I saw this man, Jeff Cotton, driving women and children away from the pit-mouth with blows and curses. I set out to help the men in the mine, and the marshal rushed me out of camp. He told me that if I didn’t go about my business, something would happen to me on a dark night. And you see--this is a dark night!” Hal waited, to give young Harrigan a chance to grasp this situation and to take command. But apparently young Harrigan was not aware of the presence of the camp-marshal and his revolver. Hal tried again: “Evidently these men wouldn’t have minded killing me; they fired at me just now. The marshal still has the revolver and you can smell the powder-smoke. So I took the liberty of entering your car, Percy. It was to save my life, and you’ll have to excuse me.” The Coal King’s son had here a sudden opportunity to be magnanimous. He made haste to avail himself of it. “Of course, Hal,” he said. “It was quite all right to come here. If our employés were behaving in such fashion, it was without authority, and they will surely pay for it.” He spoke with quiet certainty; it was the Harrigan manner, and before it Jeff Cotton and the two mine-guards seemed to wither and shrink. “Thank you, Percy,” said Hal. “It’s what I knew you’d say. I’m sorry to have disturbed your dinner-party--” “Not at all, Hal; it was nothing of a party.” “You see, Percy, it was not only to save myself, but the people in the mine! They are dying, and every moment is precious. It will take a day at least to get to them, so they’ll be at their last gasp. Whatever’s to be done must be done at once.” Again Hal waited--until the pause became awkward. The diners had so far been looking at him; but now they were looking at young Harrigan, and young Harrigan felt the change. “I don’t know just what you expect of me, Hal. My father employs competent men to manage his business, and I certainly don’t feel that I know enough to give them any suggestions.” This again in the Harrigan manner; but it weakened before Hal’s firm gaze. “What can I do?” “You can give the order to open the mine, to reverse the fan and start it. That will draw out the smoke and gases, and the rescuers can go down.” “But Hal, I assure you I have no authority to give such an order.” “You must _take_ the authority. Your father’s in the East, the officers of the company are in their beds at home; you are here!” “But I don’t understand such things, Hal! I don’t know anything of the situation--except what you tell me. And while I don’t doubt your word, any man may make a mistake in such a situation.”