“Boys,” he was saying, “Don Chafin’s got four thousand men on top of Blair Mountain in concrete bunkers. He’s got lots of machine guns. He’s been waiting for something like this and he is prepared.”

“We already know that, Keeney!” I yelled. “We got ten thousand men. Hit’s a goddamn army, son!”

Our eyes met. His were soft with apology, pleading. “I’m sorry, boys, but it’s no good. President Harding has sent a telegram to the governor. He’s sending in the U.S. Army. He’s calling this an armed rebellion.”

“Damn straight it is!” Talcott hollered.

“I just talked to a U.S. Army general,” Keeney shouted, “and I’ll tell you his exact words. He says there are several million unemployed in this country and they’re afraid this might assume proportions that they couldn’t handle. Those are his words, not mine. It’s the U.S. Army, boys. They’re bringing in airplanes with bombs, the 88th Air Squadron. They intend to drop those bombs. You start questioning who runs this country and the big foot comes down.”

Men had been pushing all around me, talking among themselves so it was hard to hear Keeney, but now they grew quiet.

“We cant go agin the federal government,” someone called out. “We cant lick nothing that big.”

“I got me a newspaper,” a colored miner answered, “quotes a coal operator. Says we got a bunch of niggers turned loose with high-powered rifles. This here nigger aint setting down this rifle without a fight.”

There was scattered applause, but most of the men were wavering, I could tell.

“Hit’s a trick!” Talcott yelled. “The U.S. government dont give a damn what goes on down here. When has the government ever cared about this place? They dont even know we’re here.”

“Hell they dont,” Keeney answered. “They knew where the Philippines was and where Cuba was. We’re right in their backyard. You can be damn sure they know what’s going on here. They know it all. And boys, they’ll call it treason.”

“So what?” I cried. “Hit’s a lousy bunch of Republicans is all it is. Hit’s a rich man’s government and hit’s a coal operators’ government. We dont have to take nothing offn it. Aint yall never heard of the Declaration of Independence? Hit’s our god-given right.”

An Italian in the bleachers began to sing in his language and others joined in, clapping their hands. Keeney pushed his way through to me, took my shirt in his two hands.