THE UNDERWORLD

THE STORY OF

ROBERT SINCLAIR, MINER

BY

JAMES C. WELSH

New York
Frederick A. Stokes Company
Publishers

1920

PREFACE

I have tried to write of the life I know, the life I have lived, and of the lives of the people whom, above all others, I love, and of whom I am so proud.

My people have been miners for generations, and I myself became a miner at the age of twelve. I have worked since then in the mine at every phase of coal getting until about five years ago, when my fellow workers made me their checkweigher.

I say this that those who read my book may know that the things of which I write are the things of which I have firsthand knowledge.

JAMES C. WELSH.
DOUGLAS WATER,
LANARK.

CONTENTS

PREFACE
THE UNDERWORLD
I. THE THONG OF POVERTY
II. A TURN OF THE SCREW
III. THE BLOCK
IV. A YOUNG REBEL
V. BLACK JOCK'S THREAT
VI. THE COMING OF A PROPHET
VII. ON THE PIT-HEAD
VIII. THE MANTLE OF MANHOOD
IX. THE ACCIDENT
X. HEROES OF THE UNDERWORLD
XI. THE STRIKE
XII. THE RIVALS
XIII. THE RED HOSE RACE
XIV. THE AWAKENING
XV. PETER MAKES A DECISION
XVI. A STIR IN LOWWOOD
XVII. MYSIE RUNS AWAY
XVIII. MAG ROBERTSON'S FRENZY
XIX. BLACK JOCK'S END
XX. THE CONFERENCE
XXI. THE MEETING WITH MYSIE
XXII. MYSIE'S RETURN
XXIII. HOME
XXIV. A CALL FOR HELP
XXV. A FIGHT WITH DEATH

THE UNDERWORLD

CHAPTER I

THE THONG OF POVERTY

"Is it not about time you came to your bed, lassie?"

"Ay, I'll no' be very long now, Geordie. If I had this heel turned, I'll soon finish the sock, and that will be a pair the day. Is the pain in your back worse the nicht, that you are so restless?" and the clicking of the needles ceased as the woman asked the question.

"Oh, I'm no' so bad at all," came the answer. "My back's maybe a wee bit sore; but a body gets tired lying always in the yin position. Forby, the day aye seems long when you are out, and I dinna like to think of you out working all day, and then sitting down to knit at nicht. It must be very tiring for you, Nellie."

"Oh, I'm no' that tired," she replied with a show of cheerfulness, as she turned another wire in the sock, and set the balls of wool dancing on the floor with the speed at which she worked. "I've had a real good day to-day, and I'm feeling that I could just sit for a lang while the nicht, if only the paraffin oil wadna' go down so quick. But the longer I sit, it burns the more, and it's getting gey dear to buy now-a-days."

"Ay," said the weary voice of the man. "If it's no' clegs it's midges. Folk have always something to contend against. But don't be long till you stop. It's almost twelve o'clock, and you ought to be in your bed."

"Oh, I'll no' be very long, Geordie," was the bravely cheerful answer. "Just you try and gang to sleep and I'll soon finish up. I'll have to try and get up early in the morning, for I have to go to Mrs. Rundell and wash. She always gi'es me twa shillings, and that's a good day's pay. The only thing I grudge is being away all day, leaving you and the bairns, for I ken they're no' very easy to put up with. They're steerin' weans, and are no' easy on a body who is ill."

"Ay, they're a steerin' lot, lassie," he answered tenderly. "But, poor things, they must hae some freedom, Nellie. I wish I was ready for my work."