"Well," said Hal, "I thought it would be interesting to see coal
mining."

"Now ye've seen it," said the girl--"now quit!"

"But it won't do me any harm to go on for a while!"

"Won't it? How can ye know? When any day they may carry you out on a
plank!"

Her "company manner" was gone; her voice was full of bitterness, as it
always was when she spoke of North Valley. "I know what I'm tellin' ye,
Joe Smith. Didn't I lose two brothers in it--as fine lads as ye'd find
anywhere in the world! And many another lad I've seen go in laughin',
and come out a corpse--or what is worse, for workin' people, a cripple.
Sometimes I'd like to go and stand at the pit-mouth in the mornin' and
cry to them, 'Go back, go back! Go down the canyon this day! Starve, if
ye have to, beg if ye have to, only find some other work but
coal-minin'!'"

Her voice had risen to a passion of protest; when she went on a new note
came into it--a note of personal terror. "It's worse now--since you
came, Joe! To see ye settin' out on the life of a miner--you, that are
young and strong and different. Oh, go away, Joe, go away while ye can!"

He was astonished at her intensity. "Don't worry about me, Mary," he
said. "Nothing will happen to me. I'll go away after a while."

The path was irregular, and he had been holding her arm as they walked.