side of the track and started out of the camp. Bill followed him, and as the train passed, the other man ran down the track to join him. Hal was walking rapidly, without a word; but the Cerberus of the gate had many words, most of them unprintable, and he seized Hal by the collar, and shoving him violently, planted a kick upon that portion of his anatomy which nature has constructed for the reception of kicks. Hal recovered his balance, and, as the man was still pursuing him, he turned and aimed a blow, striking him on the chest and making him reel.
Hal's big brother had seen to it that he knew how to use his fists; he now squared off, prepared to receive the second of his assailants. But in coal-camps matters are not settled in that primitive way, it appeared. The man halted, and the muzzle of a revolver came suddenly under Hal's nose. "Stick 'em up!" said the man.
This was a slang which Hal had never heard, but the meaning was inescapable; he "stuck 'em up." At the same moment his first assailant rushed at him, and dealt him a blow over the eye which sent him sprawling backward upon the stones.
SECTION 2.
When Hal came to himself again he was in darkness, and was conscious of agony from head to toe. He was lying on a stone floor, and he rolled over, but soon rolled back again, because there was no part of his back which was not sore. Later on, when he was able to study himself, he counted over a score of marks of the heavy boots of his assailants.
He lay for an hour or two, making up his mind that he was in a lock-up, because he could see the starlight through iron bars. He could hear somebody snoring, and he called half a dozen times, in a louder and louder voice, until at last, hearing a growl, he inquired, "Can you give me a drink of water?"
"I'll give you hell if you wake me up again," said the voice; after which Hal lay in silence until morning.
A couple of hours after daylight, a man entered his cell. "Get up," said he, and added a prod with his foot. Hal had thought he could not do it, but he got up.
"No funny business now," said his jailer, and grasping him by the sleeve of his coat, marched him out of the cell and down a little corridor into a sort of office, where sat a red-faced personage with a silver shield upon the lapel of his coat. Hal's two assailants of the night before stood nearby.
"Well, kid?" said the personage in the chair. "Had a little time to think it over?" "Yes," said Hal, briefly.
"What's the charge?" inquired the personage, of the two watchmen.
"Trespassing and resisting arrest."
"How much money you got, young fellow?" was, the next question.
Hal hesitated.
"Speak up there!" said the man.
"Two dollars and sixty-seven cents," said Hal--"as well as I can remember."
"Go on!" said the other. "What you givin' us?" And then, to the two watchmen, "Search him."
"Take off your coat and pants," said Bill, promptly, "and your boots."
"Oh, I say!" protested Hal.
"Take 'em off!" said the man, and clenched his fists. Hal took 'em off, and they proceeded to go through the pockets, producing a purse with the amount stated, also a cheap watch, a strong pocket knife, the tooth-brush, comb and mirror, and two white handkerchiefs, which they looked at contemptuously and tossed to the spittle-drenched floor.
They unrolled the pack, and threw the clean clothing about. Then, opening the pocket-knife, they proceeded to pry about the soles and heels of the boots, and to cut open the lining of the clothing. So they found the ten dollars in the belt, which they tossed onto the table with the other belongings. Then the personage with the shield announced, "I fine you twelve dollars and sixty-seven cents, and your watch and knife." He added, with a grin, "You can keep your snot-rags."
"Now see here!" said Hal, angrily. "This is pretty raw!"
"You get your duds on, young fellow, and get out of here as quick as you can, or you'll go in your shirt-tail."
But Hal was angry enough to have been willing to go in his skin. "You tell me who you are, and your authority for this procedure?"
"I'm marshal of the camp," said the man.
"You mean you're an employ�� of the General Fuel Company? And you propose to rob me--"
"Put him out, Bill," said the marshal. And Hal saw Bill's fists clench.
"All right," he said, swallowing his indignation. "Wait till I get my clothes on." And he proceeded to dress as quickly as possible; he rolled up his blanket and spare clothing, and started for the door.
"Remember," said the marshal, "straight
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