The men left with the detective to await the arrival of Gibbons did not say much to each other. They were more reticent than usual. The operative did not feel at all like talking. His active thoughts were trying to work out a difficult problem, something like this: In what manner could he forward news to Thomas that the assassins were again on his track? How should he telegraph Mr. Franklin, that he might advise Linden to protect Bully Bill at the hazard of his own life? The only hope left was, that Carey, who had been his constant nurse and attendant, might be needed to go to Mahanoy with the rest, in case Gibbons were to refuse. He looked upon the golden sun, as it went down behind the somber hills, and just the last glimpse he caught of the orb, it appeared to him that its color had changed to a blood red. Would it rise on murder and violence? His heart misgave him that it might, unless something could be thought of to reverse the present order of things. The detective was sure that no suspicion yet attached to him. He was known to be sick and incapable of physical exertion, and McAndrew was there, at the head of the division. His orders must be listened to and obeyed. In his soul McKenna wished Gibbons might be absent, or unable, from some cause, to carry out his part of the arrangement. But his spirits sunk and his form trembled, so that he had to complain of a returning chill, caused by the night air, when he saw Carey, side by side with Gibbons, making his way up the path in the direction of the house. In a few minutes Gibbons reported. After the usual greetings, he took off his hat, wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and inquired: “Well, McAndrew, what’s the matther now?” The Bodymaster cast his eyes around, to see that all within hearing were Mollies, was evidently satisfied, and answered: “These men here—Morris, Doyle, and Hurley—are going, by order of the County Delegate and our division, to Mahanoy City, to shoot Bill Thomas, in the morning, as he goes to his work! I want to know if you are to be along?” “I’m agreed,” said Gibbons, “as I don’t want to stop around this neighborhood, anyhow, for I think I may be arrested for a few words I hev had with one of the bosses of Hecksher’s Colliery—the fool thinks I mane to shoot him! I don’t care if I take part in the matter! Jist put a man in my place in the breast an’ I’m wid yez!” “Carey can take a hand at that; so there’s nothin’ to prevent the four of ye lavin’ at once!” said McAndrew. “An’ Dan Sweeney shall work for Morris, that he may miss no time—an’ Hurley is not at work—so he’ll lose nothing. Are ye well prepared for the business? Have ye all got proper weapons?” The responses were in the affirmative, though no pistols were exhibited, and it only remained for Gibbons, who was in his shirt sleeves, to get a coat. “I say, McKenna! You can lend me the old gray coat? You’ll have no use for it until to morrow, when I’ll give it back to ye!” This was said by Gibbons.