What could they do? There was, in the first place, the difficulty of getting away from the hotel, which was being watched by the “spotters.” Hartman suggested that if they went out all together and scattered, the detectives could not follow all of them. Those who escaped might get into North Valley by hiding in the “empties” which went up to the mine. But Moylan pointed out that the company would be anticipating this; and Rusick, who had once been a hobo, put in: “They sure search them cars. They give us plenty hell, too, when they catch us.” Yes, it would be a dangerous mission. Mary spoke again. “Maybe a lady could do it better.” “They’d beat a lady,” said Minetti. “I know, but maybe a lady might fool them. There’s some widows that came to Pedro for the funerals, and they’re wearin’ veils that hide their faces. I might pretend to be one of them and get into the camp.” The men looked at one another. There was an idea! The scowl which had stayed upon the face of Tim Rafferty ever since his quarrel with Moylan, gave place suddenly to a broad grin. “I seen Mrs. Zamboni on the street,” said he. “She had on black veils enough to hide the lot of us.” And here Hal spoke, for the first time since Tim Rafferty had silenced him. “Does anybody know where to find Mrs. Zamboni?” “She stay with my friend, Mrs. Swajka,” said Rusick. “Well,” said Hal, “there’s something you people don’t know about this situation. After they had fired you, I made another speech to the men, and made them swear they’d stay on strike. So now I’ve got to go back and eat my words. If we’re relying on veils and things, a man can be fixed up as well as a woman.” They were staring at him. “They’ll beat you to death if they catch you!” said Wauchope. “No,” said Hal, “I don’t think so. Anyhow, it’s up to me”--he glanced at Tim Rafferty--“because I’m the only one who doesn’t have to suffer for the failure of our strike.” There was a pause. “I’m sorry I said that!” cried Tim, impulsively. “That’s all right, old man,” replied Hal. “What you said is true, and I’d like to do something to ease my conscience.” He rose to his feet, laughing. “I’ll make a peach of a widow!” he said. “I’m going up and have a tea-party with my friend Jeff Cotton!” SECTION 23.