office of the Paradise Coal Company. He enters the building and is soon
in the private office of the President.

The miners walk on in silence towards their homes in the East End of the
town across the Bridge. It is not a time to talk. These sturdy men have
a reverence for words; they use them only when the occasion requires. At
the door of the ramshackle hut that serves as the abode of Eric Neilson,
the men halt.

"Eric!" says Metz, "I hope you will let me know of any steps that are to
be taken by the miners in your section. I have been in this region for
twenty years, and know where the rights of the miners end and the rights
of the mine owners begin. To back our rights we have nothing but our
bare fists; the mine owners have the city, state and Federal
authorities."

"If there is anything to be done that will be of importance to us all,
you will hear from me," are Eric's reassuring words.

Carl Metz knows the value of a promise from his fellow-workman. He is
satisfied.

In the homely parlance of the mines, these men agreed "to keep tabs for
each other on the square." They will let no event of importance go by
without reporting it to each other, and in this way give each full
particulars of the movements of the miners.

Metz turns back towards the centre of the city. He is bent on seeing
Purdy again, and of appealing to him to reconsider his "shut down"
orders.