"We will head them off at the cross roads this side of Harleigh," the sheriff explains. "There is a cut in the road there, and we can put our men on either side. When the miners come within range I shall challenge them. If they do not turn back, it will be your duty to compel them to do so." Unconscious of the approach of the sheriff and his posse, the miners march on. The road is heavy and they are so much run down by long weeks of short rations that they cannot make rapid headway. Sheriff Marlin and his men are now at the cut near the cross roads. Captain Grout stations his men to command either side of the road. The banks of the cut are fringed with brush, which affords a complete cover for the men. "You keep out of sight, too, Captain," Sheriff Marlin orders. "I will stop the miners. If they see you and the Coal and Iron Police they may scatter, and some of them reach Harleigh." The ambuscade is complete. Five minutes passes. There is no sign of the miners. "Can they have been told of our plan to head them off?" asks the sheriff. At this moment the head of the procession of miners turns the corner of the road. The American Flag and the White Flag are still in the van. The sheriff takes up a position on the side of the road. As the miners come up to him, he calls them to "halt." "Where are you going?" he demands. "To Harleigh," replies Metz. "Who gave you permission to parade?" "We are exercising our rights as freemen." "Well, you cannot march in a body on the highways of Pennsylvania." "Then we can break up our procession and walk individually." "_In the direction of Hazelton_," Sheriff Marlin says, significantly. "I know what you are up to; do you think that I am going to let you cause a sympathetic strike in Harleigh because you are locked out? Not if I know myself." When the miners come to a halt, the men in advance cluster about Metz and the sheriff. Now thirty men surround the sheriff. Some of them are, of course, in advance of him. "Get back to Hazleton," Sheriff Marlin cries, at the same time raising his arms above his head and waving them. He pushes his way through the crowd of miners to the edge of the road. Off comes his hat It is the signal which Captain Grout has been expecting. "Company, attention!" Two hundred Coal and Iron Police jump to their feet. "Get back to Hazleton or I'll take you prisoners," shouts the sheriff. But his words are lost. The miners are terror-stricken. The sight of the police, armed with deadly rifles, has made the miners insensible to every thought and impulse but that of self-preservation. They scatter up and down the road. "Don't let them escape to Harleigh," shouts the sheriff. Taking this as an order, the police open fire on the men who have passed the sheriff. Crack! crack! go the rifles. Each shot fells a miner. They are practically at the muzzles of the weapons.