Wishes on the Wind (9 page)

    Realizing he had managed to raise his uncle's ire with the remarks he had intended simply as a warning, David glanced at the big Scotsman standing a few feet away. Captain Linden made no comment, and David knew the fellow would remain silent until he talked his way out of the corner he had backed himself into with his uncle.

    It was time to try another tack.

    "I'm sorry, Uncle Martin. You're right. I'm not an expert on the men working in your mine." David's short laugh lifted the planes of his handsome face and lit a familiar glow in his eyes. "As a matter of fact, not only do I have a lot to learn about the mine itself, but I'm pretty vague about the management of all the outbuildings that comprise the colliery. That's why you've had me accompany you here every day this past month, isn't it?"

    "You know very well why I've taken you in to work alongside me, David." Somewhat mollified by David's apology, Martin Lang continued with a lessened frown. "I hope to familiarize you with operations here, now that you've temporarily finished with your academics. It's my hope that before you go off to college next year, you'll have a true working knowledge of the business in the event that you might be called upon to take over for me at some time."

    "I appreciate your confidence in me, Uncle Martin. I really do. And it's for that reason that I feel obliged to be honest with you."

    At his uncle's stiffening posture, David continued earnestly. ''Uncle Martin, please consider what I'm saying. You fired several men today whom you suspect were involved in the train wreck last month, even though you have no proof."

    "Arthur Bailey, Kevin Murphy, and William DeFoe are troublemakers, every one! If they're not responsible for the wreck, they're responsible for any number of problems we've previously had here. It's time to get rid of them. I've circulated their names to other mine owners, and they'll leave the coal fields soon enough when they can't find work to support their families."

    "Unless they have other plans."

    "I'll not quake with fear every time I make a decision here, David! With those men gone, there'll be three less agitators to think about."

    Frustrated by his uncle's rising temper, David shook his head. "Stop and think a moment, sir. What happened every time you ordered similar firings?" Martin Lang's expression tightened and David continued without waiting for his response. "More trouble, right?"

    "This is my colliery, and I can hire or fire anyone I want!"

    "There've been rumblings of a strike of late."

    "A strike! The fools haven't a chance, and they know it as well as you do. Let them go out on the street if they want. I can get another trainload of immigrant miners here in a week to take their places, men who'll be glad for the jobs and thank me for it. No bloody Paddy's going to tell me how to run my own mine!"

    "These men won't give up. That agent who was found dead in the woods is proof of that."

    "Bloody murderers! There's not a decent man amongst the whole race of them!"

    David frowned. Meghan O'Connor's stubborn face unexpectedly appeared before his mind's eye, her small chin raised defiantly, determination oozing from every pore of her body. He saw again in her proud, youthful bearing a nobility that was out of place with the common people of the valley.

    Martin Lang's low oath brought David back sharply to the present. "I'll find the persons responsible for killing that man if it's the last thing I do."

    "Uncle Martin, you're as familiar as I am with the atrocities the Mollies have committed. Eighteen murders in Schuylkill County within a year's time all men with supervisory positions in the mines, or men who spoke out against the Mollies in some way. Six    collieries have been dynamited, rail cars have been overturned, our own train was blown from the tracks, and your operative was found murdered."

    "Would you have me tremble with fear at the retaliation you think is planned against me?"

    "I think you should prepare for it. Have Captain Linden increase the guards at the mine. Put on extra patrols down here and up on the hill."

    "We have adequate protection already. I'll not let these men think they have me frightened."

    "Uncle Martin"

    "The subject is closed, David. We have all the protection we need from these ragamuffin murderers. Let the bloody bastards try their damnedest. They'll not get the best of me!"

    Tuning out the sound of his uncle's raving anger as it continued on, David heaved a frustrated sigh. Uncle Martin's pride was standing in the way of his common sense, but his own was not similarly affected. He had felt the hatred in the valley since he had become more heavily involved in his uncle's affairs, and he knew that even those men who did not participate actively in the work of the Molly Maguires were Mollies in spirit.

    David made a small grimace. They were a despicable lot, all of them. Pausing in his thoughts, David frowned. Well, maybe not all…

    Sean unconsciously slowed his step as Muff Lawler's drinking establishment and residence came into view. This night was to be very important to him. He need join with men of his own agitated persuasion who were determined to change things for the Irish in the valley. He need join with them for the sake of his peace of mind, so bad was the fury of his circumstances eating at his insides. The Ancient Order of Hibernians was to meet at this place tonight, and he was determined to take his place among them. As any Irishman knew, not all Hibernians were Mollies nay, most despised their works but
all
Mollies were Hibernians. The only difficulty there was that no one knew for certain which ones they were.

    Sean paused, remembering Da once saying that he'd heard a fellow Hibernian remark after a meeting that "indeed, ye never know if a Molly be sittin' beside ye, and ye best watch yer tongue when puttin' the organization down, or it might be taken out of yer
 
hide." His brothers and he had been greatly confused by that statement, prompting his Da to explain.

    As Da told it, the Mollies came into being on the old sod. They took their name from an old woman, Molly Maguire, a woman victimized by the landlords until she was driven to unrelentingly violent retribution. The oppressed thereabout took heart when she struck back, and when responding in kind to similar oppression, declared themselves Sons of Molly Maguire. Organizations bearing her name and dedicated to violent retribution quickly formed in the atmosphere of hunger and despair that prevailed.

    Hoping to escape the tyranny and the violence, good men had taken their families to this new land of opportunity, only to find themselves similarly tyrannized, with the additional hardship of being singled out and cast to the bottom of the miners' lot because of their Irish birth. "Irish need not apply" signs began springing up everywhere, and in the only defense remaining to these hungry, sorely-afflicted men and their families, the organization soared to life again.

    Molly's sons went underground in the Pennsylvania coal fields when their work became tainted with blood. Pressure from the church, government, and mine owners was so great that the secret organization finally worked its way into the Ancient Order of Hibernians, an organization of good conscience and good works in the coal fields.

    Da told them that the inner core of Mollies remained firm and prospered under cover, and that the chain of organization throughout the coal fields, linked by body masters heading each local group, grew in strength. Da hadn't known much more than that about the workings of the organization, but Sean was determined to find out the rest.

    Sean came to a full halt when a few feet from Muff Lawler's Saloon, his expression tense. He didn't want to make a mistake in the way he approached the man, for although it was never spoken aloud, it was understood that Lawler stood high in the Shenandoah Molly organization. He cautioned himself to remember not to push or he'd find himself suspect. He also knew it would be difficult to bide his time with his present feelings running so high.

    Resuming his step, Sean took a deep, fortifying breath and strode over the threshold into the brightly lit saloon. Inside, he blended inconspicuously into the crowd as he acquainted himself with his surroundings.

    It was a simple enough place. The front part of the first floor     was the usual barroom with a counter extending across one side. Behind the counter were the usual tools of the trade fixtures, glasses, decanters, bottles, and the like. At the one end was a door opening up into the kitchen which also looked to be a dining room of sorts, where he could see a staircase going to the upper floor. He knew Lawler lived up there with his wife and children, but the stealthy movement of several men up that staircase indicated a covert activity that afforded him far more interest than the meeting about to convene.

    "Away with you, Johnny!" Meghan's voice hissed in the silence of the yard as she cast a cautious glance back toward the kitchen of the Lang mansion. "You'll get me in trouble again."

    "Aw, Meg…"

    The thin, light-haired young fellow had appeared beside her clothesline a few minutes earlier, his freckled face split in a wide grin. But his present air was despondent as he jammed his bony hands into his trouser pockets, and kicked at a clump of grass.

    Meg glanced back at the house again. Cook and the rest of the staff had been unusually quiet. She wasn't sure if their silence was due to the stepped-up activity of the mistress's newest cleaning campaign, or the two new uniforms which had been delivered to the kitchen earlier that morning, only a week after Mrs. Lang had talked to her in the study.

    Accepting them from Cook in silence, she had immediately retired to the storage room to change. A passing glance at her reflection mirrored in the kitchen window had actually given her a measure of pleasure. The new uniforms were quite an improvement. The black fabric was softer, of a much better quality that was not as abrasive to her skin. The fit was improved to the point where she was actually comfortable during the heat of the day, despite the high neckline, and the white apron accommodated her slenderness moderately well. A heavy white ribbon, one of two that Mrs. Lang had sent to the kitchen, bound her curly black hair back neatly from her face in a becoming fashion, and she was silently grateful to finally reflect the same professional appearance as the rest of the staff. Unfortunately, judging from the silence which had ensued within the kitchen when she returned fully uniformed, the staff did not share her pleasure.

    But whatever the reason for the truce that seemed to prevail between her co-workers and herself, Meg was relieved. She had come out into the yard with her second load of laundry a few     minutes earlier, also grateful that Mabel had abandoned her supervision of this task a few days previous.

    Then she had heard Johnny Law's voice behind her.

    The young fellow still stood beside her, despite her sharp admonition a few moments earlier. His eyes were downcast, and she offered by way of explanation, "Cook nearly burned the skin off my hide with the tongue-lashing she gave me the last time she caught you hanging around here. I'm not about to make the mistake of passing the time of day with you again."

    His brown eyes rising to meet hers with unexpected resentment, Johnny shrugged his thin shoulders. "It's not like I'm ducking out on my chores, Meg. I'm finished for a while and Mr. Townsend said I could busy myself with whatever I wanted until he called me again."

    "But I've not finished mine! And Cook will make sure I don't if she sees you, that's for sure."

    Spotting movement at the kitchen door out of the corner of her eye, Meghan whispered in a rush, "Quick, hide! Mabel's spying on me again."

    Tempted to laugh as Johnny dove onto his stomach behind a nearby bush, Meghan picked a wet piece from the top of the basket with studied nonchalance. She released a relieved breath as a sideward glance revealed that Mabel had turned back into the kitchen again.

    "Are you angry with me, Meg?"

    Johnny peered at her from behind the bush as Meghan frowned.

    "Why are you always hanging around me, Johnny Law? Surely you've friends enough among the men to find somebody to pass the time of day with. You know I'm not one of your sort. I'm suspect here because of all the trouble going on in the valley. Every one of Master Lang's employees looks on me as an outsider."

    "I don't, Meg."

    Johnny's brown eyes were earnest and Meghan paused in exasperation. "Well, the truth is, what you think doesn't count!" Regretting her outburst as Johnny's angular face flushed, Meghan shook her head. "Can't you find yourself another friend, John?"