month of March, the
same as Trueman's. And they are both the same age. In the school days
they celebrated their birthdays together.

There is not a miner or one of his family who would not give up their
life, if such a sacrifice were necessary, to keep Sister Martha from
being injured. They have seen her enter a mine where an explosion had
occurred, when even the bravest of the rescuing party hesitated. They
have seen her in their own hovels, bending over the forms of their sick
and dying children. The yellow flag of pestilence never makes her
hesitate.

By her practical acts of charity and humanity, she has come to exert a
wonderful influence over the humble citizens of Luzerne County. In this
present crisis Sister Martha is the central figure.

In the Armory the Coal and Iron Police are playing cards and enjoying
themselves as men always can in comfortable barracks.

So the winter night closes. The hearths of the miners are cold, their
larders empty; but the armory is warm, the police are well fed.

"The Company refused to open the mines. They will, however, send thirty
barrels of flour to be distributed for Christmas." This is the message
returned by Trueman, on Sunday morning.

There are sixty miners in the Hall. They decide to go at once to
Harleigh, to exert "moral suasion" on their fellow miners there.

They start from the Hall unarmed, walking two by two. At the head of the
line of sixty men, one carries the Stars and Stripes; another a white
flag. There is nothing revolutionary about the procession. It is a sharp
contrast to the armed force of the Culpepper Minute Men, who, under the
leadership of Patrick Henry, marched to Williamsburg, Virginia, to
demand instant restoration of powder to an old magazine, or payment for
it by the Colonial Governor, Dunmore. The Minute Men carried as their
standard a flag bearing the celebrated rattlesnake, and the inscription
"Liberty or Death: Don't tread on me."

The route to Harleigh is in an opposite direction to the armory. The
little column passes out of the town of Hazleton and is a mile distant
when the Coal and Iron Police learn of their departure.

Instantly there is a bustle in the armory.

"Form your company, Captain Grout," the sheriff orders.

"Give each man twenty rounds. Tell them not to fire until I give the
order. When they do open fire, have them shoot to kill."

The company is formed on the floor of the armory. It receives the
orders; one-thir