The detective, after making a casual inspection of the place, during the following day, was in many respects well suited with it. Usually carrying on considerable trade, he found all the people of the town complaining of dull times, even the collieries employing but few hands. The blast-furnaces were in the same category. Wading through the snow, during his walks about the streets, he chanced upon some men whose faces were not new to his sight, having previously encountered them at Schuylkillhaven, and he naturally resumed the intercourse there begun. Nothing of particular importance resulted, however, excepting wet feet and dread of impending rheumatisms and neuralgias.
He at once changed his quarters from the hotel to a private boarding-house, where the style of living was less pretentious, the price charged patrons not nearly so exhaustive of his finances—and yet the accommodations, as far as this particular boarder was concerned, were considerably more comfortable. Beside, he was quite at home, and in a better position for work. And here were many acquaintances to form.
While insinuating himself into a new town, or community, McKenna properly adopted widely differing devices, but an extended experience instructed him that the best course to pursue, in any given case of the sort, was the one appearing the most natural. It was a cardinal principle, impressed upon his mind, never to make open and direct inquiries regarding people and things of which he was really in search—a place for permanent employment was, as the reader has 60all along understood, merely a cover for his actual purpose in visiting the coal country. In fact, unless it brought him in close contact with the right men, and revealed to him hidden things, in no other way attainable, a chance for himself to dig in the mines might, for the present, be deferred. It would be well, he believed, after a while, to divert attention from his real occupation. But to look up a job was a good excuse for much traveling, over a large field, with the topography of which he was required to become accurately familiar. Private objects he left to be worked out in a private way, occasionally giving them a slight and unremarked start, or direction, as he went from place to place.
Night was his favorite time for accomplishing progress. Then his friends were generally relieved from labor and gathered where they could be reached. He sauntered unconcernedly about, after darkness had set in, and if he heard a row, or "bit of a shindy" going on in a drinking place, would enter and make himself in some manner companionable with the persons within—excepting they chanced to be of the character of Mr. Staub, the portly landlord at Port Clinton, who proved so inhospitable, mistaking the agent for a thief—and in that event he usually caused himself to become invisible as rapidly as possible. With an assumption of unlimited assurance, and pretending to be more than half way under the influence of liquor, other conditions being favorable, he broke out with such a roaring, rollicking ditty as he supposed might please those about him, or, if he felt in the mood, began a spirited Irish jig, performed with much agility and many comical contortions of countenance and body, to the measure of no music at all, excepting he chose to whistle a tune meanwhile. In the course of a little time, the out-door training, and the exercise in singing and dancing, made him quite an expert, and his fame preceded him from Schuylkillhaven to Summit, and, as he learned from his companions, had journeyed even as far as Pottsville. At 61any rate, he never failed, with those in whose company he cared, for the purposes of his undertaking, to be received, in immediately placing himself upon a secure and friendly footing. The climax of miner's friendship was usually reached by asking the persons present to come to the bar and indulge in something to drink, if it was to be had, at his expense; otherwise, the invitation emanated from some one of the company and included the stranger. Either result was equally satisfactory.
If he happened, as he sometimes would, to fall in with rogues—indeed his search was for and among this class—he had prepared a device and history calculated quickly to attract their sympathies and give him a warm place in their circle.
When in the presence of sober, civil, and sedate people—which was occasionally the case—the operative tried another and different scheme, perhaps relating a cheerful ghost-story, or giving one or more of the many pathetic, patriotic, or sentimental ballads, of which he had quite a collection stored away in his brain to be expended upon such associates. In almost any company of his own countrymen he was certain of finding hearty welcome, and, as it was among Irishmen he expected to labor, he scarcely ever essayed entrance to the homes of persons of other nationalities. The time might come, he supposed, should he succeed in his labors, when the doors of most respectable families from his native land, even, would be closed against him—but, at the end, he believed he would be perfectly justified in the course he was pursuing.
The storm, in the opening of which he entered Minersville, continued, snow falling almost incessantly during three or four days, and the operative could not meanwhile accomplish much in the streets. As soon as the sun came out again, and the paths and r were broken over the mountains, he visited Miner's Hill, two miles away, returned to Minersville, and then took the horse car for Pottsville. His first work in that city was to secure a cheap and decently 62comfortable boarding-place, which he found at the residence of Mrs. O'Regan, in East Norwegian Street. The widow kept house neatly, beside a bottle of poteen, from which, without paying license, she sold an occasional drop.
A visitor's impressions of Pottsville, when first beholding its spires of churches and evidences of industry and thrift, from the heights above, cannot well be other than pleasing. The scenery encompassing the town is bold and rugged, and the descent by car to the Schuylkill, and Norwegian Creek, on whose high banks it is lodged, rapid and inspiring; and once having arrived in its handsomely-built streets, to one unaccustomed to see cities perched upon steep mountainsides, the sight is well calculated to evolve surprise. Having some twelve thousand inhabitants, there is in it much enlightenment and great wealth. Abundantly provided with handsome and elegant churches and school-houses, imposing business structures and beautiful residences, Pottsville enjoys an enviable reputation as a healthful and pleasant place for summer residence. One especial point of interest is the costly and artistic monument to Henry Clay. It is of pure white marble, in the shape of a fluted column, rising from a massive square pedestal, and surmounted by a full-length statue of the great Defender. The hotels—among which stand pre-eminent Pennsylvania Hall and the Exchange—are unsurpassed in the State. There is a large and commodious court-house, and a county jail rivaling in size and completeness of officers and appointments some of the larger State penitentiaries. It also has an Academy of Music, in which operatic and theatrical entertainments are given by traveling troupes.
Pottsville is the concentrating point for an extended radius of rich mining country, and the depot of supplies for an equally wide circle.
The surroundings in this part of Schuylkill County are, some of them, deserving of national celebrity. Among these 63is Mount Carbon, towering in height, br black, gloomy and stupendous; and, at its base, stand the Mansion House—a very agreeable place of resort—and a number of fashionable residences. Further away is a bit of natural landscape, pronounced one of the most striking in the country. It is "Tumbling Run Dam," which has been painted by several master hands, and, in picturesqueness and sublimity, is worthy the drawing many times more. Here the waters of the stream, cut across by a heavy obstruction of sturdy rock, are turned abruptly aside, and rush, in a foaming, misty torrent, down, down, a steep side descent, torn and divided into innumerable smaller cascades, again uniting with the still, brexpanse below. Tall pines, stunted cedars, and noble oaks border the river on either shore, and, under the shadow of the overhanging barrier, are piled, in artistic confusion, great heaps of sharp and jagged rocks, seemingly rent from adjacent peaks by giant hands.
To change the subject from the sublime to the real and practical:
Among the occupants of Mrs. O'Regan's house was a young man named Jennings, apparently possessing more than ordinary intelligence, and, the afternoon of McKenna's arrival, knowing he was a stranger, this sociable person proposed to show his new-found friend the sights to be seen in the city. McKenna accepted the offer, and the two started out, not intending to be long absent. During the visits made to different places, of course the saloons were not omitted, and both of the men drank somewhat, but no more than to them seemed respectable and companionable. The operative was introduced by Jennings to a number of his intimate associates and friends, but met none of those with whom he was anxious to open communication.
As they were on Center Street, passing quietly along, the stranger read a sign over the door of a liquor store, or tavern, "Pat. Dormer," and said
64"Let's go in here!"
"Its no place for us," answered Jennings. "You are not of 'the stuff,' I guess! At least, I know I am not!"
"'The stuff!' Phat is it ye mane by 'the stuff'?"
"Come away, across the street, and I'll tell you! Its not the safe or proper thing to be conversing of such things so near this particular house!"
So saying, Jennings led the way to another corner, where the young men stopped, well out of the sweep of the wind, in the lee of a large building, and the conversation was at once resumed by Jennings:
"Dormer is a captain!"
"Captain of a militia company, is it ye mane?"
"No! That's not it! I believe that you are a good sort of a fellow, and I think I may venture to warn you—yet I want you to promise me never to repeat what I say. It might lead to trouble!"
"Av coorse, I'll be as silent as the catacombs of Agypt! Niver you fear Jim McKenna fur that, sure!"
"You must understand, then, that Pat Dormer is a captain of the Sleepers!"
"One of the notorious sivin, we rade about, is he? Indade, an' I supposed they were all kilt entirely, more'n thirteen hundred years ago!"
"No! Not one of that number, but of the great secret order, here called the Sleepers!'
"An' phat are the Slapers? Plaze to explain it—or is it another conundrum you are after axin' me?"
"The Sleepers are the Mollie Maguires! There's a heap of them in this district, and Dormer is, or was, an officer high in authority in the organization. You've certainly heard of the society?"
"Sure, an' I hev heard much about them in the ould counthry! But nothing till America! Are you sure they've ever crossed the say?"
65"They have, and there are thousands of them in this and some adjoining counties. If you stop here awhile you'll read about some of their work! They do not rest long without doing something in the way of murder or outrage!"
The young man then proceeded, with some particularity, to relate to his apparently astonished listener many of the stories he had gathered regarding the Mollie Maguires, with an outline of their known aims and objects. His words do not call for repetition here, as they allude to things already within the reader's knowledge. Jennings, in conclusion, remarked:
"Of course I do not belong to the order—would not if I could, and could not if I would—as I am American born and both of my parents not from Ireland. But there are any number of them in the neighborhood. Dormer is a sort of King Bee among the brethren, and his house their rendezvous when in the city. Dormer filled the office of County Commissioner for some six years in all, but was defeated at the last election, through the interference of the society, which, for some reason, during a short time was opposed to him, but I hear it talked that he is in its good graces again, ready once more to run for office, should occasion offer. He was once quite a respectable man, but place and a long lease of power, and bad liquor taken by wholesale, have brought him to moral and almost physical ruin. One great fault that the order found with him was that he had affiliated with some other secret associations popular among Protestants. He was, and is now, comparatively, a very powerful man. Standing six feet four inches in his stockings, and pulling the beam at two hundred and thirty pounds, he is considered a dangerous individual to tamper with!"
"As my countrywomen are often heard to remark, 'what a handsome corpse he would make, to be sure!' What do Dormer look like, in other regards?"
"His hair is gray, eyes light hazel, and he has a countenance, 66which, from its mildness of expression, can be taken as no index to his inward character, for he is cruel and bloodthirsty, especially when in his cups. He calls his hotel the Sheridan House—you see that it is popular. There are many people constantly going in and coming out! But such as you and I do not belong there!"
The young man again cautioned McKenna to say nothing of his revelations, and, after promising compliance, they entered a saloon, had some refreshments, and then went home in time for supper.
The detective could not retire to his bed that night without at least attempting to see the man he had heard so much about. He might prove the very person he desired to meet. Therefore, excusing himself by saying he needed to make some purchases up town, he procured a lamp, went to his bedroom, carefully examined his revolver, placed it convenient in his hip pocket, and sallied forth. Making sure, after walking some distance, that Jennings was not in the vicinity, he soon reached Dormer's saloon.
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