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Updated: May 15, 2025
Joe Ratowsky, while seemingly doing nothing but attend his little lunch-counter, shadowed the man. He knew when Gerani came and went. There was proof enough that he had been interfering with the engine. But it was not he alone whom Mr. Hobart wished to reach. It was the man back of the act who had sent the Pole to do the work. The superintendent thought at first of dismissing Gerani.
But this might bring on more serious complications. His fellow-workmen might object the Huns and Poles, at least. The Italians were not in the mines but were employed about the dumps, and on the road which wound about the mountain. It was Joe again who thought of a means of subduing Gerani. He had heard enough of O'Day's covert suggestion that he could tell much that Gerani dreaded.
There would be growls and snarls, and perhaps threats, but the trouble would end there. Gerani, Colowski, Raffelo, Sickerenza, were the bell-sheep. He could control them. Pushing his way to the front of the saloon, he stood in the doorway and shouted with the full force of his lungs. He spoke Slavic, and they listened. There were mutterings and growls as might have been expected.
He gave no reason for the delay of the attack, but his words suggested much. Gerani, in the background, in low tones was urging a group of Slavs to answer O'Day, and declare that they would go on. O'Day's eyes were on the big Slav. He understood the conditions. Nothing would please Gerani better than to have the miners rush upon the speaker and kill him. O'Day understood.
In his own tongue, his speech was impressive. He saw now, from the frightened expression of Gerani's face, that his words had struck home. The next morning, the big Pole was not at the mines, nor did he come to draw the pay due him. Joe Ratowsky chuckled to himself when several days passed. "Gerani oh he all right. We no fear him. Me scare him like the tivil, b'gosh." Mr.
So a word of warning. Keep friends with Mr. Hobart, and whatever happens, don't let it come to his ears that Gerani went up at daylight to work at the engine. Just a word of warning, brother, all given in good faith, and for the sake of the land from which we came." That was all. Joe Ratowsky strode on through the darkness without giving the other time to respond.
And my father went to court with you to tell that Gerani, I think that was his name, was not present when the Italian was hurt. I was at home when you came." The man nodded. There was no question now in his mind. She was Dennis O'Day's daughter, the daughter of the man, who, although himself not a miner, stood shoulder to shoulder with them when they needed a friend. She saw him hesitate.
Joe undertook the same stratagem. One stormy night he met Gerani on his way home. Catching him by his sleeve, he detained him long enough to say in his native tongue, "I've a word to say to you in secret, brother. O'Day is not the only one that knows about the Dago. The superintendent, he knows, too; but he keeps quiet because you are a good miner when you are not drunk, brother.
The car was empty, and the train, being on the second switch, was moving backward. The rear end of the coach was crushed but the engine and engineer escaped unhurt. "Gerani," said Mr. Hobart when he heard the news, but Ratowsky shook his head in negation. "You no see him no more. He be bad man at Bitumen no more, b'gosh." Then Joe laughed heartily and slapped his broad limbs with his hand.
When Gerani in a drunken quarrel, had stabbed the fighting, ugly-tempered little Italian, Marino De Angelo, it was Dennis who established an alibi, and swore all manner of oaths to prove that Gerani, a law-abiding citizen, a credit to the commonwealth, could not possibly have done it. As to the guilty party, O'Day had shaken his head in doubt.
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