Isaac Bell looked at Jim Higgins.
Jim Higgins said, “The pilots predict another black fog tonight.”
“Tonight,” said Isaac Bell. “We move them tonight.”
“Cheese it!” hissed Wally Kisley. “The cops.”
It was not, of course, the Pittsburgh police, or even the Coal and Iron Police, but Mary Higgins, who the Protective Services boys had warned was heading their way. She
stormed into the workboat’s cabin with color high in her cheeks. She glared at her brother, the others, and Bell.
“Where are the men who were here?”
“They left town for their health,” said Mack Fulton.
“Taking the waters at the Greenbrier,” said Wally.
“What are you doing here?” she shouted, turning all her fury on Bell.
“We are borrowing your barges,” he said. “And you’re lucky we found out instead of the police or the Pinkertons or the militia.”
“Are you asking me to be grateful?”
“You can thank us by staying out of our way.”
She whirled on her brother. “Did you tell him?”
“I only confirmed what they figured out on their own.”
“Why?”
“So you don’t get killed or thrown in prison.”
“Go to hell, brother. You, too, Isaac Bell.”
* * *
Isaac Bell followed Mary out on deck. She was staring at the fogbound river, blinking back tears. “You ruined it.”
“Mary?”
“Leave me be.”
“Good will come of what you did. These barges will save the miners’ march and save lives.”
“How?”
“Your brother has the idea to move their tents to the Amalgamated Coal Terminal. The hope is, we can transport the miners and their families in these barges. Once there, he thinks, they will hold a safer and stronger position.”
“Do you believe that?” she asked.
“I believe that at this moment their position could not be worse.”
Mary nodded and said quietly, “I saw the trolley park this afternoon. They can’t stay there… Was it true what my brother said?”
“Jim did not betray you. He only confirmed what I guessed.”
“You’re quite the clever guesser, Isaac Bell.”