Fred Dobbins turned to look at the man who’d called his name. Kitching was Dobbins’s contact with the company that operated the mine. He liked that the man left him alone to run the operation as he saw fit. “Mr. Kitching, what can I do fer you?” There was a scowl on his face as he walked past Dobbins into the office. “Is something wrong?”

“I received a letter the other day from the company that there would be some changes.”

Dobbins didn’t like changes. “I thought the company was happy with the way I ran the mine.” Sure, he managed to make a little extra and made sure the women he wanted knew their jobs depended on pleasing him. But everyone did that. “What happened?”

“The property was in trust. It’s now been turned over to the owner.”

“Why would that matter? Don’t the contract say the owner don’t have nothing to do with what we do?”

Kitching nodded. “Normally that would be the case. However, because the property was in trust, the lease on this mine was always a shorter period of time than most.”

Dobbins scratched his head. “Are they closing it?”

“No. Worse.” The man’s scowl deepened. “They’re making it into a so-called ‘model mine.’”

“A what?” He’d never heard of such a thing.

“They’re going to change how the mine’s run based on the ideas of the people who want to reform the mines.”

“Reformers?” Dobbins almost spat on the floor. “What do we do to stop it?”

“There’s nothing to be done. The arrangements have been made.”

“I won’t do it. We do just fine here without anyone’s interference.” The door opened and Russon, a miner Dobbins had fired, strolled in like he owned the place. A tall man followed him. “What the hell are you doing here? Get out before I have my men help you leave.” He turned to look at the other man. “Who are you?”

“Dobbins.” There was a warning in Kitching’s voice. “This is Mr. Edman. He represents the new owner.”

An ill feeling settled in Dobbin’s stomach and he glanced at Russon. “You ain’t gone yet?”

Russon just stood there, arms crossed over his chest. For as mouthy as the rabble-rouser usually was, that was more than passing strange.

“Mr. Russon will not be leaving,” the new man said. “Kitching, have you not told him yet?”

Kitching almost pulled his forelock. Dobbins had never seen him act that way. “I was just getting to it.” Kitching looked at Dobbins. “The thing is, you’re being let go. The company will pay you one month’s wages because it’s been so sudden. But you have to leave today.”