“You illustrate the individual in his most selfish aspect,” laughed the minister. “You see only your own torn shirt. Your remedy lies not with the girl but with her employer. You tell him you want better work and that unless he raises the wages of his employees you’ll carry your shirts elsewhere.” “That would be far too much trouble; it’s a lot easier to buy new linen.” “That’s the secret of the whole situation we’re talking about; it’s easier to buy a new shirt than to take care of the one you’ve got. By the same token it’s easier to wear out a coal miner and throw him away when you can’t use him any longer than to preserve the men who are digging our coal to-day. They all go on the rubbish heap--they’re just old scrap. I’ve been up in the anthracite districts where children under the age limit are employed in the breakers; and in the churches of the towns up there men devoutly thank God every Sunday for so kindly putting all this mineral wealth in the hills of the State of Pennsylvania so they may give their own children comforts and luxuries won by the blackened hands of other men’s children.” “We have laws that cover such cases; enforce the laws. I’m for that,” said Wayne. “But we don’t want to do it that way! We must do it not by law but by love,” and the minister smiled his sad smile. Wayne laughed and threw away his cigarette. “You’re a mighty good fellow, Jimmy Paddock, but you’re a sentimentalist, that’s all. There may be some of that in me down underneath somewhere, but I doubt it. Anyhow, I’ll take a peep at your little party to-night; I dare say it won’t do me any harm.” CHAPTER XII THE SHADOWS AGAINST THE FLAME “Do I know the place? Sure!” said Joe Denny when Wayne ordered the chauffeur to be ready with the limousine at eight o’clock. The runabout was in the shop and the limousine was a next year’s model that Wayne had just acquired. “He’s the wonder, this Father Jim.” “What’s that?” demanded Wayne. “Father Jim, they call him out at Ironstead. Say, he knows how to put the boys to work.” “What line of study have you tackled?” “Me study? Say, you’re not on to me. I’m one of the professors.” Wayne glared at him without speaking and the former ball player explained, with unmistakable pride and a gradual lapse into the vernacular.