"
* * * * *
After three frantic days of fighting against calamity, during which
Andrew never left the fight except for that brief journey to tell Nellie
the news, at last they came upon the crushed mass of bloody pulp and
rags, smashed together so that the one could not be told from the
other--father and son, a heap of broken bones and flesh and blood....
And no pen can describe accurately the scene.
The light had gone out from one woman's heart, the hope had been crushed
from her life. The rainbow which had promised so much vanished. The lust
and urge had gone out of eager life. Never again would the world seem
fair and beautiful. Instead, all the weary fight and desperate battle
with poverty and privation over again; the dull misery and the drab
gray existence, and always the pain--the heavy, dragging pain of a
broken life. With a woman's "Oh! my God!" the world for one heart stood
still, and the blind fate of things triumphed, crushing a woman's soul
in the process.
CHAPTER XI
THE STRIKE
A week had passed, and Geordie Sinclair and his boy, or at least all
that could be gathered up of them, had been laid to rest.
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