Not until they reach the center of the town do they realize they are at the end of their ride.

“We never rode those five miles so quickly before,” says Ethel.

“O, yes we have.  Why, it has taken us longer to-day than ever,” Harvey replies, as he looks at his watch.

“But of course it has not seemed long.  We have had so much to talk about.  We must make good time on the ride home or we will be late for dinner.”

They turn their horses and are off at a brisk trot back toward Wilkes-Barre.

On passing through the upper end of Woodward they have not noticed a clump of men and women standing at the doorway of a miserable hovel, setting back from the road.

Now the men and women are in the road and block the way.

“I wonder what can have happened,” exclaims Ethel.

“Another accident, I presume,” is Harvey’s answer.  “It does seem as though the Jumbo Breaker injures more men than any other in the district.  It’s all through using the new crusher.  It’s dangerous.  I said so from the moment I inspected the model.  But it saves a hundred men’s labor; the company will not abolish its use.”

They are now so near the crowd that the horses have to be reigned in.

“Who’s hurt?” Harvey asks of a miner.

“Nobody hurt, sir, only the Sheriff putting out Braun’s widow.”

The scene in the court room looms up before Harvey.  He sees the bent form of the miners’ widow as she had bent over her little boy, weeping at the decision of the Judge who had said that she could not claim damages for the killing of her husband.  He thinks of the check that is in his pocket—­the reward he has gained for winning the case for the Paradise Company.  A blush comes to his cheeks; his inner conscience is awakened.

In the doorway of the hovel stands Sheriff Marlin.  He is superintending the eviction.

There are several miners in the group who had been at the court house.  They look at Harvey with glances which speak the thoughts they dare not utter.

Then, as a hunted fawn which will seek shelter of the huntsmen who are to slay her, the widow rushes from the house.  She runs to the head of Ethel’s horse and falls prostrate at the animal’s feet.

“In mercy’s name, don’t let them put me out to freeze,” she wails.  “It is not for myself.  I don’t mind the cold; but little Eric, he will freeze to death.

“You give your horses shelter; will you let a child die on the roadside?  It is not my fault that the rent is not paid.  My husband never owed a cent in his life.  He was killed in the mines, and the company will give me nothing—­nothing.  I won’t ask for charity.  All I ask for is a chance to work.  I can break coal.  I can dig it.  I am willing to work even in the Jumbo, till it kills me.  Anything to get food and a roof for my child.”

This tragic scene is enacted, before Sheriff Marlin and his deputies grasp the situation.  They do not long stand idly by and see the daughter of the great Purdy subjected to this annoyance.  With a bound the sheriff, himself, is upon the woman.