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diff --git a/41154-0.txt b/41154-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ef7c52 --- /dev/null +++ b/41154-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11199 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41154 *** + +THE WALKING DELEGATE + + + + +[Illustration: THE WALKING DELEGATE] + + + + + The + Walking Delegate + + + By + + Leroy Scott + + + _With Frontispiece_ + + + New York + Doubleday, Page & Company + 1905 + + + + + Copyright, 1905, by + Doubleday, Page & Company + Published May, 1905 + + +_All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign +languages, including the Scandinavian_ + + + + +To My Wife + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I. ON THE ST. ETIENNE HOTEL 3 + + II. THE WALKING DELEGATE 14 + + III. THE RISE OF BUCK FOLEY 30 + + IV. A COUNCIL OF WAR 9 + + V. TOM SEEKS HELP FROM THE ENEMY 50 + + VI. IN WHICH FOLEY PLAYS WITH TWO MICE 59 + + VII. GETTING THE MEN IN LINE 72 + + VIII. THE COWARD 85 + + IX. RUTH ARNOLD 98 + + X. LAST DAYS OF THE CAMPAIGN 111 + + XI. IN FOLEY'S "OFFICE" 120 + + XII. THE ELECTION 129 + + XIII. THE DAY AFTER 145 + + XIV. NEW COURAGE AND NEW PLANS 153 + + XV. MR. BAXTER HAS A FEW CONFERENCES 166 + + XVI. BLOWS 177 + + XVII. THE ENTERTAINMENT COMMITTEE 187 + + XVIII. THE STOLEN STRIKE 203 + + XIX. FOLEY TASTES REVENGE 210 + + XX. TOM HAS A CALLER 224 + + XXI. WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN 236 + + XXII. THE PROGRESS OF THE STRIKE 250 + + XXIII. THE TRIUMPH OF BUSINESS SENSE 257 + + XXIV. BUSINESS IS BUSINESS 267 + + XXV. IN WHICH FOLEY BOWS TO DEFEAT 279 + + XXVI. PETERSEN'S SIN 290 + + XXVII. THE THOUSANDTH CHANCE 304 + +XXVIII. THE EXPOSURE 313 + + XXIX. IN WHICH MR. BAXTER SHOWS HIMSELF A MAN OF RESOURCES 331 + + XXX. THE LAST OF BUCK FOLEY 338 + + XXXI. TOM'S LEVEE 348 + + XXXII. THE THORN OF THE ROSE 364 + + + + +LIST OF CHARACTERS + + + BUCK FOLEY, a walking delegate. + TOM KEATING, a foreman. + MAGGIE KEATING, his wife. + MR. BAXTER, President of Iron Employers' Ass'n. + MRS. BAXTER. + MR. DRISCOLL, a contractor. + RUTH ARNOLD, his secretary. + MR. BERMAN, junior partner of Mr. Driscoll. + MR. MURPHY, a contractor. + MR. BOBBS, a contractor. + MR. ISAACS, a contractor. + CONNELLY, Secretary of Iron Workers' Union. + NELS PETERSEN, a "scab." + ANNA PETERSEN, his wife. + PIG IRON PETE, a workman + JOHNSON, a workman. + BARRY, a workman. + MRS. BARRY. + JAKE HENDERSON } + ARKANSAS NUMBER TWO } Members of + KAFFIR BILL } "The Entertainment + SMOKEY } Committee." + HICKEY } + + + + +THE WALKING DELEGATE + + + + +Chapter I + +ON THE ST. ETIENNE HOTEL + + +The St. Etienne Hotel would some day be as bulky and as garishly +magnificent as four million dollars could make it. Now it was only a +steel framework rearing itself into the center of the overhead +grayness--a black pier supporting the grimy arch of heaven. + +Up on its loosely-planked twenty-first story stood Mr. Driscoll, +watching his men at work. A raw February wind scraped slowly under the +dirty clouds, which soiled the whole sky, and with a leisurely content +thrust itself into his office-tendered flesh. He shivered, and at times, +to throw off the chill, he paced across the pine boards, carefully going +around the gaps his men were wont to leap. And now and then his eyes +wandered from his lofty platform. On his right, below, there were roofs; +beyond, a dull bar of water; beyond, more roofs: on his left there were +roofs; a dull bar of water; more roofs: and all around the jagged +wilderness of house-tops reached away and away till it faded into the +complete envelopment of a smudgy haze. Once Mr. Driscoll caught hold of +the head of a column and leaned out above the street; over its dizzy +bottom erratically shifted dark specks--hats. He drew back with a +shiver with which the February wind had nothing to do. + +It was a principle with Mr. Driscoll, of Driscoll & Co., contractors for +steel bridges and steel frames of buildings, that you should not show +approval of your workmen's work. "Give 'em a smile and they'll do ten +per cent. less and ask ten per cent. more." So as he now watched his +men, one hand in his overcoat pocket, one on his soft felt hat, he did +not smile. It was singularly easy for him not to smile. Balanced on his +short, round body he had a round head with a rim of reddish-gray hair, +and with a purplish face that had protruding lips which sagged at each +corner, and protruding eyes whose lids blinked so sharply you seemed to +hear their click. So much nature had done to help him adhere to his +principle. And he, in turn, had added to his natural endowment by +growing mutton-chops. Long ago someone had probably expressed to him a +detestation of side-whiskers, and he of course had begun forthwith to +shave only his chin. + +His men were setting twenty-five foot steel columns into place,--the +gang his eyes were now on, moving actively about a great crane, and the +gang about the great crane at the building's other end. Their coats were +buttoned to their chins to keep out the February wind; their hands were +in big, shiny gloves; their blue and brown overalls, from the handling +of painted iron, had the surface and polish of leather. They were all in +the freshness of their manhood--lean, and keen, and full of +spirit--vividly fit. Their work explained their fitness; it was a +natural civil service examination that barred all but the active and the +daring. + +And yet, though he did not smile, Mr. Driscoll was cuddled by +satisfaction as he stood on the great platform just under the sky and +watched the brown men at work. He had had a deal of trouble during the +past three years--accidents, poor workmen, delays due to strikes over +inconsequential matters--all of which had severely taxed his profits and +his profanity. So the smoothness with which this, his greatest job, +progressed was his especial joy. In his heart he credited this +smoothness to the brown young foreman who had just come back to his +side--but he didn't tell Keating so. + +"The riveters are keeping right on our heels," said Tom. "Would you like +to go down and have a look at 'em?" + +"No," said Mr. Driscoll shortly. + +The foreman shrugged his shoulders slightly, and joined the gang Mr. +Driscoll was watching. In the year he had worked for Mr. Driscoll he had +learned to be philosophic over that gentleman's gruffness: he didn't +like the man, so why should he mind his words? + +The men had fastened a sling about a twenty-five foot column and to this +had attached the hook of the pulley. The seventy-foot arm of the crane +now slowly rose and drew after it the column, dangling vertically. +Directed by the signals of Tom's right hand the column sank with +precision to its appointed place at one corner of the building. It was +quickly fastened to the head of the column beneath it with four bolts. +Later the riveters, whose hammers were now maintaining a terrific rattle +two floors below, would replace the four bolts by four rows of rivets. + +"Get the sling, Pete," ordered Tom. + +At this a loosely-jointed man threw off his slouch hat, encircled the +column with his arms, and mounted with little springs. Near its top he +locked his legs around the column, and, thus supported and working with +both hands, he unfastened the rope from the pulley hook and the column, +and threw it below. He then stepped into the hook of the pulley, swung +through the air to the flooring, picked up his hat and slapped it +against his leg. + +Sometimes Mr. Driscoll forgot his principle. While Pete was nonchalantly +loosening the sling, leaning out over the street, nothing between him +and the pavement but the grip of his legs, there was something very like +a look of admiration in Mr. Driscoll's aggravating eyes. He moved over +to Pete just as the latter was pulling on his slouch hat. + +"I get a shiver every time I see a man do that," he said. + +"That? That's nothin'," said Pete. "I'd a heap ruther do that than work +down in the street. Down in the street, why, who knows when a brick's +agoin' to fall on your head!" + +"Um!" Mr. Driscoll remembered himself and his eyes clicked. He turned +from Pete, and called to the young foreman: "I'll look at the riveters +now." + +"All right. Oh, Barry!" + +There came toward Tom a little, stocky man, commonly known as "Rivet +Head." Someone had noted the likeness of his cranium to a newly-hammered +rivet, and the nickname had stuck. + +"Get the other four columns up out of the street before setting any +more," Tom ordered, and then walked with Mr. Driscoll to where the head +of a ladder stuck up through the flooring. + +Pete, with a sour look, watched Mr. Driscoll's round body awkwardly +disappear down the ladder. + +"Boys, if I was a preacher, I know how I'd run my business," he +remarked. + +"How, Pete?" queried one of the gang. + +"I'd stand up Driscoll in the middle o' the road to hell, then knock off +workin' forever. When they seen him standin' there every blamed sinner'd +turn back with a yell an' stretch their legs for the other road." + +"I wonder if Tom'll speak to him about them scabs," said another man, +with a scowl at a couple of men working along the building's edge. + +"That ain't Tom's business, Bill," answered Pete. "It's Rivet Head's. +Tom don't like Driscoll any more'n the rest of us do, an' he ain't goin' +to say any more to him'n he has to." + +"Tom ought to call him down, anyhow," Bill declared. + +"You let Foley do that," put in Jake Henderson, a big fellow with a +stubbly face and a scar across his nose. + +"An' let him peel off a little graft!" sneered Bill. + +"Close yer face!" growled Jake. + +"Come on there, boys, an' get that crane around!" shouted Barry. + +Pete, Bill, and Jake sprang to the wooden lever that extended from the +base of the ninety-foot mast; and they threw their weight against the +bar, bending it as a bow. The crane slowly turned on its bearings to the +desired position. Barry, the "pusher" (under foreman), waved his +outstretched hand. The signalman, whose eyes had been alert for this +movement, pulled a rope; a bell rang in the ears of an engineer, +twenty-one floors below. The big boom slowly came down to a horizontal +position, its outer end twenty feet clear of the building's edge. +Another signal, and the heavy iron pulley began to descend to the +street. + +After the pulley had started to slide down its rope there was little for +the men to do till it had climbed back up the rope with its burden of +steel. Pete--who was usually addressed as "Pig Iron," perhaps for the +reason that he claimed to be from Pittsburg--settled back at his ease +among the gang, his back against a pile of columns, his legs stretched +out. + +"I've just picked out the apartment where I'm goin' to keep my celluloid +collar when this here shanty's finished," he remarked. "Over in the +corner there, lookin' down in both streets. I ain't goin' to do nothin' +but wear kid gloves, an' lean out the windows an' spit on you roughnecks +as you go by. An' my boodwar is goin' to have about seventeen +push-buttons in it. Whenever I want anything I'll just push a button, +an' up'll hot-foot a nigger with it in a suit o' clothes that's nothin' +but shirt front. Then I'll kick the nigger, an' push another button. +That's life, boys. An' I'll have plush chairs, carpets a foot thick, an +iv'ry bath-tub----" + +Pete's wandering gaze caught one man watching him with serious eyes, and +he broke off. "Say, Johnson, wha' d'you suppose I want a bath-tub for?" + +Johnson was an anomaly among the iron-workers--a man without a sense of +humor. He never knew when his fellows were joking and when serious; he +usually took them literally. + +"To wash in," he answered. + +Pete whistled. "Wash in it! Ain't you got no respect for the traditions +o' the workin' class?" + +"Hey, Pig Iron; talk English!" Bill demanded. "What's traditions?" + +Pete looked puzzled, and a laugh passed about the men. Then his +sang-froid returned. "Your traditions, Bill, is the things you'd try to +forget about yourself if you had enough coin to move into a place like +this." + +He turned his lean face back on Johnson. "Don't you know what a +bath-tub's for, Johnson? Don't you never read the papers? Well, +here's how it is: The landlords come around wearin' about a +sixteen-candle-power incandescent smile. They puts in marble bath-tubs +all through all the houses. They're goin' to elevate us. The next day +they come around again to see how we've improved. They throw up their +hands, an' let out a few yells. There's them bath-tubs chuck full o' +coal. We didn't know what they was for,--an' they was very handy for +coal. That's us. It's down in the papers. An' here you, Johnson, you'd +ruin our repitations by usin' the bath-tubs to bathe in." + +The pulley toiled into view, dragging after it two columns. Johnson was +saved the necessity of response. The men hurried to their places. + +"O' course, Pig Iron, you'll be fixed all right when you've moved in +here," began Bill, after the boom had reached out and the pulley had +started spinning down for the other two columns. "But how about the rest +of us fixers? Three seventy-five a day, when we get in only six or seven +months a year, ain't makin' bankers out o' many of us." + +"Only a few," admitted Pete; "an' them few ain't the whole cheese yet. +Me, I can live on three seventy-five, but I don't see how you married +men do." + +"Especially with scabs stealin' your jobs," growled Bill, glancing again +at the two men working along the building's edge. + +"I told you Foley'd look after them," said Barry, who had joined the +group for a moment. "It hustles most of us to keep up with the game," he +went on, in answer to Pete's last remark. "Some of us don't. An' rents +an' everything else goin' up. I don't know what we're goin' to do." + +"That's easy," said Pete. "Get more money or live cheaper." + +"How're we goin' to live cheaper?" demanded Bill. + +"Yes, how?" seconded Barry. + +"I'm for more money," declared Bill. + +"Well, I reckon I wear the same size shoe," said Pete. "More +money--that's me." + +"And me," "and me," joined in the other men, except Johnson. + +"It's about time we were gettin' more," Pete advanced. "The last two +years the bosses have been doin' the genteel thing by their own pockets, +all right." + +"We've got to have more if our kids are goin' to know a couple o' facts +more'n we do." Barry went over to the edge of the building and watched +the tiny figures attaching the columns to the pulley hook. + +"That's right," said Pete. "You don't stand no chance these days to +climb up on top of a good job unless you ripped off a lot o' education +when you was young an' riveted it on to your mem'ry. I heard a preacher +once. He preached about education. He said if you wanted to get up +anywhere you had to be educated like hell. He was right, too. If you +left school when you was thirteen, why, by the time you're twenty-seven +an' had a few drinks you ain't very likely to be just what I'd call a +college on legs." + +"Keating, he thinks we ought to go after more this spring," said Bill. + +"I wonder what Foley thinks?" queried another of the men. + +"If Tom's for a strike, why, Foley'll be again' it," one of the gang +answered. "You can place your money on that color." + +"Tom certainly did pour the hot shot into Foley at the meetin' last +night," said Bill, grinning. "Grafter! He called Buck about thirteen +diff'rent kind." + +"If Keating's all right in his nut he'll not go round lookin' for a +head-on collision with Buck Foley," asserted Jake, with a wise leer at +Bill. + +Bill answered by giving Jake his back. "Foley don't want no strike," he +declared. "What's he want to strike for? He's gettin' his hand in the +dough bag enough the way things is now." + +"See here, the whole bunch o' you roughnecks give me a pain!" broke out +Pete. "You shoot off your faces a lot when Buck's not around, but the +imitation you give on meetin' nights of a collection o' mummies can't be +beat. I ain't in love with Buck--not on your life! You can tell him so, +Jake. But he certainly has done the union a lot o' good. Tom'd say that, +too. An' you know how much Tom likes Foley. You fixers forget when you +was workin' ten hours for two dollars, an' lickin' the boots o' the +bosses to hold your jobs." + +There was a short silence, then Johnson put forward cautiously: "I don't +see the good o' strikin'." + +Pete stared at him. "Why?" he demanded. + +"Well, I've been in the business longer'n most o' you boys, an' I ain't +found the bosses as bad as you make 'em out. When they're makin' more, +they'll pay us more." + +"Oh, you go tell that to a Sunday school!" snorted Pete. "D'you ever +hear of a boss payin' more wages'n he had to? Not much! Them kind 'o +bosses's all doin' business up in heaven. If we was actually earnin' +twenty a day, d'you suppose we'd get a cent more'n three seventy-five +till we'd licked the bosses. You do--hey? That shows the kind of a nut +you've got. The boss 'ud buy a tutti-frutti yacht, or a few more +automobiles, or mebbe a college or two, where they learn you how to wear +your pants turned up; but all the extra money you'd get wouldn't pay for +the soap used by a Dago. If ever a boss offers you an extra dollar +before you've licked him, yell for a cop. He's crazy." + +Pete's tirade completely flustered Johnson. "All the same, what I said's +so." + +Pete snorted again. "When d'you think you're livin'? You make me tired, +Johnson. Go push yourself off the roof!" + +The two last columns rose swinging above the chasm's brink, and there +was no more talk for that afternoon. For the next hour the men were busy +setting the last of the columns which were to support the twenty-second +and twenty-third stories. Then they began setting in the cross beams, +walking about on these five-inch beams (perhaps on one with the pavement +straight beneath it) with the matter-of-fact steps of a man on the +sidewalk--a circus act, lacking a safety net below, and lacking +flourishes and kisses blown to a thrilled audience. + + + + +Chapter II + +THE WALKING DELEGATE + + +It was toward the latter part of the afternoon that a tall, angular man, +in a black overcoat and a derby hat, stepped from the ladder on to the +loose planking, glanced about and walked over to the gang of men about +the south crane. + +"Hello, Buck," they called out on sight of him. + +"Hello, boys," he answered carelessly. + +He stood, with hands in the pockets of his overcoat, smoking his cigar, +watching the crane accurately swing a beam to its place, and a couple of +men run along it and bolt it at each end to the columns. He had a face +to hold one's look--lean and long: gray, quick eyes, set close together; +high cheek bones, with the dull polish of bronze; a thin nose, with a +vulturous droop; a wide tight mouth; a great bone of a chin;--a daring, +incisive, masterful face. + +When the beam had been bolted to its place, Barry, with a reluctance he +tried to conceal, walked over to Foley. + +"How's things?" asked the new-comer, rolling his cigar into the corner +of his mouth and slipping his words out between barely parted lips. + +Barry was the steward on the job,--the union's representative. "Two +snakes come on the job this mornin'," he reported. "Them two over +there,--that Squarehead an' that Guinea. I was goin' to write you a +postal card about 'em to-night." + +"Who put 'em to work?" + +"They said Duffy, Driscoll's superintendent." + +Foley grunted, and his eyes fastened thoughtfully on the two non-union +men. + +"When the boys seen they had no cards, o' course they said they wouldn't +work with the scabs. But I said we'd stand 'em to-day, an' let you +straighten it out to-morrow." + +"We'll fix it now." The walking delegate, with deliberate steps, moved +toward the two men, who were sitting astride an outside beam fitting in +bolts. + +He paused beside the Italian. "Clear out!" he ordered quietly. He did +not take his hands from his pockets. + +The Italian looked up, and without answer doggedly resumed twisting a +nut. + +Foley's eyes narrowed. His lips tightened upon his cigar. Suddenly his +left hand gripped the head of a column and his right seized the shirt +and coat collar of the Italian. He jerked the man outward, unseating +him, though his legs clung about the beam, and held him over the street. +The Italian let out a frightful yell, that the wind swept along under +the clouds; and his wrench went flying from his hand. It struck close +beside a mason on a scaffold seventeen stories below. The mason gave a +jump, looked up and shook his fist. + +"D'youse see the asphalt?" Foley demanded. + +The man, whose down-hanging face was forced to see the pavement far +below, with the little hats moving about over it, shrilled out his fear +again. + +"In about a minute youse'll be layin' there, as flat as a picture, if +youse don't clear out!" + +The man answered with a mixture of Italian, English, and yells; from +which Foley gathered that he was willing to go, but preferred to gain +the street by way of the ladders rather than by the direct route. + +Foley jerked him back to his seat, and a pair of frantic arms gripped +his legs. "Now chase yourself, youse scab! Or----" Foley knew how to +swear. + +The Italian rose tremblingly and stepped across to the flooring. He +dropped limply to a seat on a prostrate column, and moaned into his +hands. + +Without glancing at him or at the workmen who had eyed this measure +doubtfully, Foley moved over to the Swede and gripped him as he had the +Italian. "Now youse, youse sneakin' Squarehead! Get out o' here, too!" + +The Swede's right hand came up and laid hold of Foley's wrist with a +grip that made the walking delegate start. The scab rose to his feet and +stepped across to the planking. Foley was tall, but the Swede out-topped +him by an inch. + +"I hold ma yob, yes," growled the Swede, a sudden flame coming into his +heavy eyes. + +Foley had seen that look in a thousand scabs' eyes before. He knew its +meaning. He drew back a pace, pulled his derby hat tightly down on his +head and bit into his cigar, every lean muscle alert. + +"Get off the job! Or I'll kick youse off!" + +The Swede stepped forward, his shoulders hunched up. Foley crouched +back; his narrowed gray eyes gleamed. The men in both gangs looked on +from their places about the cranes and up on the beams in statued +expectation. Barry and Pig Iron hurried up to Foley's support. + +"Keep back!" he ordered sharply. They fell away from him. + +A minute passed--the two men standing on the loosely-planked edge of a +sheer precipice, watching each other with tense eyes. Suddenly a change +began in the Swede; the spirit went out of him as the glow from a +cooling rivet. His arms sank to his side, and he turned and fairly slunk +over to where lay an old brown overcoat. + +The men started with relief, then burst into a jeering laugh. Foley +moved toward Barry, then paused and, with hands back in his pockets, +watched the two scabs make their preparation to leave, trundling his +cigar about with his thin prehensile lips. As they started down the +ladder, the Swede sullen, the Italian still trembling, he walked over to +them with sudden decision. + +"Go on back to work," he ordered. + +The two looked at him in surprised doubt. + +"Go on!" He jerked his head toward the places they had left. + +They hesitated; then the Swede lay off his old coat and started back to +his place, and the Italian followed, his fearful eyes on the walking +delegate. + +Foley rejoined Barry. "I'm goin' to settle this thing with Driscoll," he +said to the pusher, loudly, answering the amazed questioning he saw in +the eyes of all the men. "I'm goin' to settle the scab question for good +with him. Let them two snakes work till youse hear from me." + +He paused, then asked abruptly: "Where's Keating?" + +"Down with the riveters." + +"So-long, boys," he called to Barry's gang; and at the head of the +ladder he gestured a farewell to the gang about the other crane. Then +his long body sank through the flooring. + +At the bottom of the thirty-foot ladder he paused and looked around +through the maze of beams and columns. This floor was not boarded, as +was the one he had just left. Here and there were little platforms on +which stood small portable forges, a man at each turning the fan and +stirring the rivets among the red coals; and here and there were groups +of three men, driving home the rivets. At regular intervals each heater +would take a white rivet from his forge, toss it from his tongs sizzling +through the air to a man twenty feet away, who would deftly catch it in +a tin can. This man would seize the glowing bit of steel with a pair of +pincers, strike it smartly against a beam, at which off would go a spray +of sparks like an exploding rocket, and then thrust it through its hole. +Immediately the terrific throbbing of a pneumatic hammer, held hard +against the rivet by another man, would clinch it to its destiny of +clinging with all its might. And then, flashing through the gray air +like a meteor at twilight, would come another sparkling rivet. + +And on all sides, beyond the workmen calmly playing at catch with +white-hot steel, and beyond the black crosswork of beams and columns, +Foley could see great stretches of housetops that in sullen rivalry +strove to overmatch the dinginess of the sky. + +Foley caught sight of Tom with a riveting gang at the southeast corner +of the building, and he started toward him, walking over the five-inch +beams with a practiced step, and now and then throwing a word at some of +the men he passed, and glancing casually down at the workmen putting in +the concrete flooring three stories below. Tom had seen him coming, and +had turned his back upon his approach. + +"H'are you, Buck!" shouted one of the gang. + +Though Foley was but ten feet away, it was the man's lips alone that +gave greeting to him; the ravenous din of the pneumatic hammer devoured +every other sound. He shouted a reply; his lip movements signaled to the +man: "Hello, fellows." + +Tom still kept his ignoring back upon Foley. The walking delegate +touched him on the shoulder. "I'd like to trade some words with youse," +he remarked. + +Tom's set face regarded him steadily an instant; then he said: "All +right." + +"Come on." Foley led the way across beams to the opposite corner of the +building where there was a platform now deserted by its forge, and where +the noise was slightly less dense. For a space the two men looked +squarely into each other's face--Tom's set, Foley's expressionless--as +if taking the measure of the other;--and meanwhile the great framework +shivered, and the air rattled, under the impact of the throbbing +hammers. They were strikingly similar, and strikingly dissimilar. +Aggressiveness, fearlessness, self-confidence, a sense of leadership, +showed themselves in the faces and bearing of the two, though all three +qualities were more pronounced in the older man. Their dissimilarity was +summed up in their eyes: there was something to take and hold your +confidence in Tom's; Foley's were full of deep, resourceful cunning. + +"Well?" said Tom, at length. + +"What's your game?" asked Foley in a tone that was neither friendly nor +unfriendly. "Wha' d'youse want?" + +"Nothing,--from you." + +Foley went on in the same colorless tone. "I don't know. Youse've been +doin' a lot o' growlin' lately. I've had a lot o' men fightin' me. Most +of 'em wanted to be bought off." + +Tom recognized in these words a distant overture of peace,--a peace that +if accepted would be profitable to him. He went straight to Foley's +insinuated meaning. + +"You ought to know that's not my size," he returned quietly. "You've +tried to buy me off more than once." + +The mask went from Foley's face and his mouth and forehead creased into +harsh lines. His words came out like whetted steel. "See here. I would +pass over the kind o' talkin' youse've been doin'. Somebody's always +growlin'. Somebody's got to growl. But what youse said at the meetin' +last night, I ain't goin' to stand for that kind o' talk. Youse +understand?" + +Tom's legs had spread themselves apart, his black-gloved hands had +placed themselves upon his hips, and his brown eyes were looking hard +defiance from beneath his cap's peak. "I don't suppose you did like it," +he said calmly. "If I remember rightly I didn't say it for the purpose +of pleasing you." + +"Youse're goin' to keep your mouth goin' then?" + +"My mouth's my own." + +"Mebbe youse knows what happened to a few other gents that started on +the road youse're travelin'?" the steely voice went on insinuatingly. +"Duncan--Smith--O'Malley?" + +"Threats, huh?" Tom's anger began to pass his control. He sneered. "Save +'em for somebody that's afraid of you!" + +The cigar that had so far kept its place in Foley's mouth now fell out, +and a few lurid words followed it. "D'youse know I can drive youse clean +out o' New York? Yes, an' fix youse so youse can't get a job in the iron +trade in the country? Except as a scab. Which's just about what you +are!" + +The defiant glow in Tom's eyes flared into a blaze of anger. He stepped +up to Foley, his fists still on his hips, and fairly thrust his square +face into the lean one of the walking delegate. + +"If you think I'm afraid of you, Buck Foley, or your bunch of toughs, +you're almighty mistaken! I'm going to say what I think about you, and +say it whenever and wherever I please!" + +Foley's face tightened. His hands clenched in his pockets. But he +controlled himself. He had the wisdom of a thousand fights,--which is, +never to fight unless you have to, or unless there is something to gain. +"I've got just one thing to say to youse, an' that's all," he said, and +his low, steely voice cut distinctly through the hammer's uproar. "If I +hear any more about your talk,--well, Duncan an' O'Malley'll have some +new company." + +He turned about shortly, and stepped along beams to a ladder, and down +that; leaving Tom struggling with a furious desire to follow and close +with him. Out of the building, he made for the office of Mr. Driscoll as +rapidly as street car could take him. On leaving the elevator in the +Broadway building he strode to a door marked "Driscoll & +Co.--Private--Enter Next Door," and without hesitation turned the knob. +He found himself in a small room, very neat, whose principal furniture +was a letter file and a desk bearing a typewriter. Over the desk was a +brown print of William Morris. The room had two inner doors, one, as +Foley knew, opening into the general offices, and the other into Mr. +Driscoll's private room. + +A young woman rose from the desk. "What is it?" she asked, with a +coldness drawn forth by his disregard of the sign on the door. + +"I want to see Mr. Driscoll. Tell him Foley wants to speak to him." + +She went through Mr. Driscoll's door, and Foley heard his name +announced. There was a hesitant silence, then he heard the words, "Well, +let him come in, Miss Arnold." + +Miss Arnold immediately reappeared. "Will you step in, please." + +As he entered the door Foley put on his hat, which he had removed in the +presence of the secretary, pulling it aggressively down over one eye. + +"Hello, Driscoll," he greeted the contractor, who had swung about from a +belittered desk; and he closed the door behind him. + +Mr. Driscoll pointed to a chair, but his face deepened a shade. Foley +seated himself, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his +bony hands clasped. + +"Well, what can I do for you?" queried Mr. Driscoll shortly. + +Foley knew his man. He had met Mr. Driscoll many times at conferences +with the Executive Committee of the Iron Employers' Association, and had +read him as though he were large print. He noted with satisfaction the +color in the contractor's face. + +The walking delegate spoke with extreme deliberation. "I come around, +_Mister_ Driscoll, to find out what the hell youse mean by workin' scabs +on that St. Etienne job. Youse signed an agreement to work only union +men, but if I didn't watch youse, youse'd have your work alive with +scabs. Now, damn youse, unless youse get them scabs off that job an' do +it quicker'n youse ever done anything before, youse'll wish youse had!" + +Foley made no mistake in his pre-calculation of the effect of this +speech. Mr. Driscoll sprang to his feet, with a trembling that his +reddish-gray whiskers exaggerated. His glasses tumbled from his nose, +and his feet scrunched them unnoted into the rug. "If there's a scab on +the job, I didn't know it. If those men're scabs Duffy must have made a +mistake. If----" + +"If one o' youse bosses ever breaks a contract, oh, it's always a +mistake!" + +"If you'd come around here and talked like a gentleman, I'd had 'em off +inside of an hour," Mr. Driscoll roared. "But, by thunder, I don't let +any walking delegate insult me and tell me what I've _got_ to do!" + +"Then youse ain't goin' to fire the scabs?" + +"Not till hell freezes over!" + +Mr. Driscoll's eyes clicked, and he banged his pudgy fist upon his desk. + +"Then the men'll go back to work on the day hell freezes over," returned +Foley, rising to go. "But I have an idea youse'll want to see me a day +or two before then. I've come to youse this time. The next time we talk, +youse'll come to me. There's my card." And he went out with the +triumphant feeling of the man who can guide events. + +At ten o'clock the next morning he clambered again to the top of the St. +Etienne Hotel. The Italian and Swede were still at work. + +"Lay down your tools, boys!" he called out to the two gangs. "The job's +struck!" + +The men crowded around him, demanding information. + +"Driscoll won't fire the scabs," he explained. + +"Kick 'em off,--settle it that-a-way!" growled one of the men. "We +can't afford to lose wages on account o' two scabs." + +"That'd only settle this one case. We've got to settle the scab question +with Driscoll for good an' all. It's hard luck, boys, I know," he said +sympathetically, "but we can't do nothin' but strike. We've got to lick +Driscoll into shape." + +Leaving the men talking hotly as they changed their clothes for the +street, Foley went down the ladder to bear the same message and the same +comfort to the riveters. + +The next morning the general contractor for the building got Mr. +Driscoll on the telephone. "Why aren't you getting that ironwork up?" he +demanded. + +Mr. Driscoll started into an explanation of his trouble with Foley, but +the general contractor cut him short. "I don't care what the trouble is. +What I care about is that you're not getting that ironwork up. Get your +men right back to work." + +"How?" queried Mr. Driscoll sarcastically. + +"That's your business!" answered the general contractor, and rang off. + +Mr. Driscoll talked it over with the "Co.," a young fellow of thirty or +thereabouts, of polished manner and irreproachable tailoring. "See +Foley," Mr. Berman advised. + +"It's simply a game for graft!" + +"That may be," said the junior partner. "But what can you do?" + +"I won't pay graft!" + +Mr. Berman shrugged his shapely shoulders and withdrew. Mr. Driscoll +paced his office floor, tugged at his whiskers, and used some language +that at least had the virtue of being terse. With the consequence, that +he saw there was nothing for him but to settle as best as he could. In +furious mortification he wrote to Foley asking him to call. The answer +was a single scrawled sentence: "If you want to see me, I live at--West +One Hundred and Fifteenth Street." + +The instant after this note was read its fragments were in Mr. +Driscoll's waste basket. He'd suffer a sulphurous fate before he'd do +it! But the general contractor descended upon him in person, and there +was a bitter half hour. The result was that late Saturday afternoon Mr. +Driscoll locked his pride in his desk, put his checkbook in his pocket, +and set forth for the number on West One Hundred and Fifteenth Street. + +A large woman, of dark voluptuous beauty, with a left hand like a +jeweller's tray, answered his knock and led him into the parlor, on +whose furnishings more money than taste had been spent. The room was a +war of colors, in which the gilt of the picture frames, enclosing +oblongs of high-hued sentiment, had the best of the conflict, and in +which baby blue, showing in pictures, upholstery and a fancy lamp shade, +was an easy second, despite its infantility. + +Foley sat in a swinging rocker, reading an evening paper, his coat off, +his feet in slippers. He did not rise. "Hello! Are they havin' zero +weather in hell?" + +Mr. Driscoll passed the remark. "I guess you know what I'm here for." + +"If youse give me three guesses, I might be able to hit it. But chair +bottom's as cheap as carpet. Set down." + +Mr. Driscoll sank into an upholstered chair, and a skirmish began +between his purple face and the baby blue of the chair's back. "Let's +get to business," he said. + +"Won't youse have a drink first?" queried Foley, with baiting +hospitality. + +Mr. Driscoll's hands clenched the arms of the chair. "Let's get to +business." + +"Well,--fire away." + +"You know what it is." + +"I can't say's I do," Foley returned urbanely. + +The contractor's hands dug again into the upholstery. "About the strike +you called on the St. Etienne." + +"Oh, that!--Well?" + +Mr. Driscoll gulped down pride and anger and went desperately to the +point. "What'll I have to do to settle it?" + +"Um! Le's see. First of all, youse'll fire the scabs?" + +"Yes." + +"Seems to me I give youse the chance to do that before, an' end it right +there. But it can't end there now. There's the wages the men's lost. +Youse'll have to pay waitin' time." + +"Extortion, you mean," Mr. Driscoll could not refrain from saying. + +"Waitin' time," Foley corrected blandly. + +"Well,--how much?" Mr. Driscoll remarked to himself that he knew what +part of the "waiting time" the men would get. + +Foley looked at the ceiling and appeared to calculate. "The waitin' +time'll cost youse an even thousand." + +"What!" + +"If youse ain't learnt your lesson yet, youse might as well go back." He +made as if to resume his paper. + +Mr. Driscoll swallowed hard. "Oh, I'll pay. What else can I do? You've +got me in a corner with a gun to my head." + +Foley did not deny the similitude. "youse're gettin' off dirt cheap." + +"When'll the men go back to work?" + +"The minute youse pay, the strike's off." + +Mr. Driscoll drew out his check-book, and started to fill in a check +with a fountain pen. + +"Hold on there!" Foley cried. "No checks for me." + +"What's the matter with a check?" + +"Youse don't catch me scatterin' my name round on the back o' checks. +D'youse think I was born yesterday?" + +"Where's the danger, since the money's to go to the men for waiting +time?" Mr. Driscoll asked sarcastically. + +"It's cash or nothin'," Foley said shortly. + +"I've no money with me. I'll bring it some time next week." + +"Just as youse like. Only every day raises the price." + +Mr. Driscoll made haste to promise to deliver the money Monday morning +as soon as he could get it from his bank. And Foley thereupon promised +to have the men ready to go back to work Monday afternoon. So much +settled, Mr. Driscoll started to leave. He was suffocating. + +"Won't youse have a drink?" Foley asked again, at the door. + +Mr. Driscoll wanted only to get out of Foley's company, where he could +explode without having it put in the bill. "No," he said curtly. + +"Well!--now me, when I got to swallow a pill I like somethin' to wash it +down." + +The door slammed, and Mr. Driscoll puffed down the stairs leaving behind +him a trail of language like a locomotive's plume. + + + + +Chapter III + +THE RISE OF BUCK FOLEY + + +Tom glared at Foley till the walking delegate had covered half the +distance to the ladder, then he turned back to his supervision, trying +to hide the fires of his wrath. But his soul flamed within him. All that +Foley had just threatened, openly and by insinuation, was within his +power of accomplishment. Tom knew that. And every other man in the union +was as much at his mercy,--and every man's family. And many had suffered +greatly, and all, except Foley's friends, had suffered some. Tom's mind +ran over the injustice Foley had wrought, and over Foley's history and +the union's history during the last few years ... and there was no +sinking of the inward fire. + +And yet there was a long period in the walking delegate's history on +which Tom would not have passed harsh judgment. Very early in his +career, in conformity with prevailing custom, Buck Foley had had a +father and a mother. His mother he did not remember at all. After she +had intimated a preference for another man by eloping with him, Buck's +father had become afflicted with almost constant unsteadiness in his +legs, an affliction that had before victimized him only at intervals. +His father he remembered chiefly from having carried a tin pail to a +store around the corner where a red-faced man filled it and handed it +back to him over a high counter; and also from a white scar which even +now his hair did not altogether conceal. One day his father disappeared. +Not long after that Buck went to live in a big house with a great lot of +boys, the little ones in checked pinafores, the big ones in gray suits. +After six years of life here, at the age of twelve, he considered that +he was fit for graduation, and so he went out into the world,--this on a +very dark night when all in the big house were fast asleep. + +For three years Buck was a newsboy; sleeping in a bed when he could +afford one, sleeping in hallways, over warm gratings, along the docks, +when he could not; winning all the newsboy's keen knowledge of human +nature. At fifteen the sea fascinated him, and he lived in ships till he +was twenty. Then a sailor's duties began to irk him. He came back to New +York, took the first job that offered, driving a truck, and joined a +political club of young men in a west side ward. Here he found himself. +He rose rapidly to power in the club. Dan McGuire, the boss of the ward, +had to take notice of him. He left his truck for a city job with a +comfortable salary and nothing to do. At twenty-five he was one of +McGuire's closest aids. Then his impatient ambition escaped his control. +He plotted a revolution, which should overthrow McGuire and enthrone +himself. But the Boss had thirty years of political cunning, and behind +him a strong machine. For these Buck was no match. He took again to the +sea. + +Buck shipped as second mate on a steamer carrying steel for a great +bridge in South Africa. Five years of authority had unfitted him for the +subordinate position of second mate, and there were many tilts with the +thick-headed captain. The result was that after the steamer had +discharged her cargo Foley quitted his berth and followed the steel into +the interior. The contractors were in sore need of men, and, even though +Foley was not a bridgeman, they gladly gave him a job. His service as a +sailor had fitted him to follow, without a twinge of fear, the most +expert of the bridgemen in their daring clambering about cables and over +narrow steel beams; and being naturally skillful he rapidly became an +efficient workman. + +Of the men sent out to this distant job perhaps one-half were union +members. These formed a local branch of their society, and this Foley +was induced to join. He rapidly won to influence and power in the +affairs of the union, finding here the same keen enjoyment in managing +men that he had first tasted in Dan McGuire's ward. After the completion +of this job he worked in Scotland and Brazil, always active in the +affairs of his union. At thirty-two he found himself back in New +York,--a forceful leader ripe for an opportunity. + +He had not been in New York a week when he discovered his chance. The +union there was wofully weak--an organization only in name. The +employers hardly gave it a consideration; the members themselves hardly +held it in higher esteem. The men were working ten hours a day for two +dollars; lacking the support of a strong union they were afraid to seek +better terms. As Foley grimly expressed it, "The bosses have got youse +down an' are settin' on your heads." Here in this utter disorganization +Foley perceived his opportunity. He foresaw the extent to which the +erection of steel-frame buildings, then in its beginning, was certain to +develop. His trade was bound to become the "fundamental trade"; until +his union had put up the steel frames the contractors could do +nothing--the other workmen could do nothing. A strongly organized union +holding this power--there was no limit to the concessions it might +demand and secure. + +It was a great opportunity. Foley went quietly to work on a job at +twelve dollars a week, and bided his time. At the end of six months he +was elected president and walking delegate of the union. He had no +trouble in securing the offices. No one else wanted them. This was early +in the spring. The first labor he set himself was the thorough +organization of the union and the taking into its ranks of every +ironworker in the city. + +The following spring there was a strike. Foley now came for the first +time before the contractors' attention. They regarded him lightly, +having remembrance of his predecessors. But they soon found they were +facing a man who, though uneducated and of ungrammatical speech, was as +keen and powerful as the best of them. The strike was won, and great was +the name of Foley. In the next three years there were two more strikes +for increases in wages, which were won. And the name of Foley waxed +greater. + +During these first four years no man could have served the union +better. But here ended the stretch of Foley's history on which Tom would +not have passed harsh judgment; and here began the period whose acts of +corruption and oppression were now moving in burning procession through +Tom's mind. It is a matter of no moment whether Foley or the employers +took the initiative in starting him on the new phase of his career as a +labor leader. It is axiomatic that money is the ammunition of war; among +the employers there were many who were indifferent whether this +ammunition was spent in fighting or in buying. On the other hand, +Foley's training on the street and in Dan McGuire's ward was not such as +to produce an incorruptible integrity. It is only fair to Foley to say +that the first sums he received were in return for services which did +not work any injury or loss to the union. It was easy to excuse to +himself these first lapses. He knew his own worth; he saw that men of +much less capacity in the employ of the bosses were paid big salaries. +The union paid him thirty dollars a week. "Who's hurt if I increase my +salary to something like it ought to be at the expense of the bosses?" +he reasoned; and took the money with an easy conscience. + +This first "easy money" made Foley hungry for more. He saw the many +opportunities that existed for acquiring it; he saw where he could +readily create other opportunities. In earlier days he had envied +McGuire the chances that were his. He had no reason to envy McGuire now. + +During the first three or four years of his administration there was no +opposition to him within the union. His work was too strenuous to be +envied him by any man. But after the union had become an established +power, and the position of walking delegate one of prominence, a few +ambitious spirits began to aspire to his job. Also there began to be +mutterings about his grafting. A party was formed which secretly busied +itself with a plan to do to him what he had tried to do to Dan McGuire. +He triumphed, as McGuire had triumphed. But the revolution, though +unsuccessful, had a deep lesson for him. It taught him that, unless he +fortified it, his position was insecure. At present he was dependent for +its retention upon the favor of the members; and favor, as he knew, was +not a dependable quantity. + +He was determined to remain the walking delegate of the union. He had +made the union, and the position. They were both his by right. He +rapidly took measures to insure himself against the possibility of +overthrow. He became relentless to all opposition. Those who dared talk +were quick to hear from him. Some fared easily--the clever ones who were +not bribe-proof. After being given jobs as foremen, and presented with +neat little sums, they readily saw the justice of Foley's cause. Some, +who were not worth bribing, he intimidated into silence. Those whom he +had threatened and who still talked found themselves out of work and +unable to get new jobs; they were forced into other trades or out of the +city. A few such examples lessened the necessity for such severe action. +Men with families to support perceived the value of a discreet tongue. + +These methods were successful in quelling open opposition; but they, +together with the knowledge that Foley was taking money wherever it was +offered, had the effect of rapidly alienating the better element in the +union. This forced him into a close alliance with the rougher members, +who were greatly in the minority. But this minority, never more than +five hundred out of three thousand men, Foley made immensely effective. +He instructed them to make the meetings as disorderly as possible. His +scheme worked to perfection. The better members came less and less +frequently, and soon the meetings were entirely in the hands of the +roughs. As time passed Foley grew more and more jealous of his power, +and more and more harsh in the methods used to guard it. He attached to +himself intimately several of the worst of his followers whom grim +facetiousness soon nominated "The Entertainment Committee." If any one +attacked him now, the bold one did so knowing that he would probably +experience the hospitality of these gentlemen the first dark night he +ventured forth alone. + +Such were the conditions behind the acts of tyranny that Tom furiously +overhauled, as he mechanically directed the work. He had considered +these conditions and acts before, but never with such fierceness as now. +Hitherto he had been, as it were, merely one citizen, though a more or +less prominent one, of an oppressed nation; now he, as an individual, +had felt the tyrant's malevolence. He had before talked of the union's +getting rid of Foley as a necessary action, and only the previous night +he had gone to the length of denouncing Foley in open meeting, an +adventurous act that had not been matched in the union for two years. +Perhaps, in the course of time, his patriotism alone would have pushed +him to take up arms against Foley. But now to his patriotic indignation +there was added the selfish wrath of the outraged individual,--and the +sum was an impulse there was no restraining. + +Tom was not one who, in a hot moment, for the assuagement of his wrath, +would bang down his fist and consign himself to a purpose. Here, +however, was a case where wrath made the same demand that already had +been made by cool, moral judgment--the dethronement of Foley. And Tom +felt in himself the power for its accomplishment. He was well furnished +with self-confidence,--lacking which any man is an engine without fire. +During the last five years--that is, since he was twenty-five, when he +began to look upon life seriously--the knowledge had grown upon him that +he was abler, and of stronger purpose, than his fellows. He had accepted +this knowledge quietly, as a fact. It had not made him presumptuous; +rather it had imposed upon him a serious sense of duty. + +He considered the risks of a fight against Foley. Personal +danger,--plenty of that, yes,--but his hot mind did not care for that. +Financial loss,--he drew back from thinking what his wife would say; +anyhow, there were his savings, which would keep them for awhile, if +worst came to worst. + +As the men were leaving the building at the end of the day's work, Tom +drew Barry and Pete to one side. "I know you fellows don't like Foley a +lot," he began abruptly, "but I don't know how far you're willing to +go. For my part, I can't stand for him any longer. Can't we get together +to-night and have a talk?" + +To this Barry and Pete agreed. + +"Where'bouts?" asked Barry. + +Tom hesitated; and he was thinking of his wife when he said, "How about +your house?" + +"Glad to have you," was Barry's answer. + + + + +Chapter IV + +A COUNCIL OF WAR + + +Tom lived in the district below West Fourteenth Street, where, to the +bewildered explorer venturing for the first time into that region, the +jumbled streets seem to have been laid out by an egg-beater. + +It was almost six o'clock when, hungry and wrathful, he thrust his +latch-key into the door of his four-room flat. The door opened into +blackness. He gave an irritated groan and groped about for matches, in +the search striking his hip sharply against the corner of the dining +table. A match found and the gas lit, he sat down in the sitting-room to +await his wife's coming. From the mantel a square, gilded clock, on +which stood a knight in full armor, counted off the minutes with +irritating deliberation. It struck six; no Maggie. Tom's impatience +rapidly mounted, for he had promised to be at Barry's at quarter to +eight. He was on the point of going to a restaurant for his dinner, +when, at half-past six, he heard the fumble of a latch-key in the lock, +and in came his wife, followed by their son, a boy of four, crying from +weariness. + +She was a rather large, well-formed, and well-featured young woman, and +was showily dressed in the extreme styles of the cheap department +stores. She was pretty, with the prettiness of cheap jewelry. + +Tom rose as she carefully placed her packages on the table. "You really +decided to come home, did you?" + +"Oh, I know I'm late," she said crossly, breathing heavily. "But it +wasn't my fault. I started early enough. But there was such a mob in the +store you couldn't get anywhere. If you'd been squeezed and pushed and +punched like I was in the stores and in the street cars, well, you +wouldn't say a word." + +"Of course you had to go!" + +"I wasn't going to miss a bargain of that kind. You don't get 'em +often." + +Tom gazed darkly at the two bulky packages, the cause of his delayed +dinner. "Can I have something to eat,--and quick?" + +By this time her hat and jacket were off. "Just as soon as I get back my +breath," she said, and began to undo the packages. + +The little boy came to her side. + +"I'm so hungry, ma," he whined. "Gimme a piece." + +"Dinner'll be ready in a little while," she answered carelessly. + +"But I can't wait!"--and he began to cry. + +Maggie turned upon him sharply. "If you don't stop that bawling, Ferdie, +you shan't have a bite of dinner." + +The boy cried all the louder. + +"Oh, you!" she ejaculated; and took a piece of coarse cake from the +cupboard and handed it to him. "Now do be still!" + +Ferdinand filled his mouth with the cake, and she returned to the +packages. "I been wanting something to fill them empty places at the +ends of the mantel this long time, and when I saw the advertisement in +the papers this morning, I said it was just the thing.... Now there!" + +Out of one pasteboard box she had taken a dancing Swiss shepherdess, of +plaster, pink and green and blue, and out of the other box a dancing +Swiss shepherd. One of these peasants she had put on either side of the +knight, at the ends of the mantel. + +"Now, don't you like that?" + +Tom looked doubtfully at the latest adornment of his home. Somehow, he +didn't just like it, though he didn't know why. "I guess it'll do," he +said at length. + +"And they were only thirty-nine cents apiece! Now when I get a new tidy +for the mantel,--a nice pink one with flowers. Just you wait!" + +"Well,--but let's have dinner first." + +"In just a minute." With temper restored by sight of her art treasures, +Maggie went into the bedroom and quickly returned in an old dress. The +dinner of round steak, fried potatoes and coffee was ready in a very +short time. The steak avenged its hasty preparation by presenting one +badly burnt side. But Tom ate the poor dinner without complaint. He was +used to poor dinners; and his only desire was to get away and to +Barry's. + +Once during the meal he looked at his wife, a question in his mind. +Should he tell her? But his eyes fell back to his plate and he said +nothing. She must know some time, of course--but he didn't want the +scene now. + +But she herself approached uncomfortably near the subject. She had +glanced at him hesitatingly several times while they were eating; as he +was rising from the table she began resolutely: "I met Mrs. Jones this +afternoon. She told me what you said about Foley last night at the +meeting. Her husband told her." + +Tom paused. + +"There's no sense doing a thing of that kind," she went on. "Here we are +just beginning to have things a little comfortable. You know well enough +what Foley can do to you if you get him down on you." + +"Well?" Tom said guardedly. + +"Well, don't you be that foolish again. We can't afford it." + +"I'll see about it." He went into the sitting-room and returned with hat +and overcoat on. "I'm going over to Barry's for awhile--on some +business," he said, and went out. + +Barry and Pete, who boarded with the Barrys, were waiting in the +sitting-room when Tom arrived,--and with them sat Mrs. Barry and a boy +of about thirteen and a girl apparently a couple of years younger, the +two children with idle school books in their laps. Mrs. Barry's +sitting-room, also her parlor, would not have satisfied that amiable +lady, the president of the Society for Instructing Wage-Earners in House +Furnishing. There was a coarse red Smyrna rug in the middle of the +floor; a dingy, blue-flowered sofa, with three chairs to match (the +sort seen in the windows of cheap furniture stores on bargain days, +marked "Nineteen dollars for Set"); a table in one corner, bearing a +stack of photographs and a glass vase holding up a bunch of pink paper +roses; a half dozen colored prints in gilt-and-white plaster frames. The +room, however, quite satisfied Mrs. Barry, and the amiable president of +the S. I. W. E. H. F. would needs have given benign approval to the +room's utter cleanliness. + +Mrs. Barry, a big, red-faced woman, greeted Tom heartily. Then she +turned to the boy and girl. "Come on, children. We've got to chase +ourselves. The men folks want to talk." She drove the two before her +wide body into the kitchen. + +Tom plunged into the middle of what he had to say. "We've talked about +Foley a lot--all of us. We've said other unions are managed decently, +honestly--why shouldn't ours be? We've said we didn't like Foley's +bulldozing ways. We didn't like the tough gang he's got into the union. +We didn't like the rough-house meetings. We didn't like his grafting. +We've said we ought to raise up and kick him out. And then, having said +that much, we've gone back to work--me, you and all the rest of us--and +he's kept on bullying us, and using the union as a lever to pry off +graft. I'm dead sick of this sort of business. For one, I'm tired +talking. I'm ready for doing." + +"Sure, we're all sick o' Foley. But what d'you think we ought to do?" +queried Barry. + +"Fire him out," Tom answered shortly. + +"It only takes three words to say that," said Pig Iron. "But how?" + +"Fire him out!" Tom was leaning forward in his chair, his elbows on his +knees, his big, red hands interlocked. There was determination in his +square face, in the set of his powerful red neck, in the hunch of his +big shoulders. He gazed steadily at the two men for a brief space. +"Boys, my mind's made up. I'm going to fight him." + +Pete and Barry looked at him in amazement. + +"You're goin' to fight Buck Foley!" cried Barry. + +"You're jokin'!" said Pig Iron. + +"I'm in dead earnest." + +"You know what'll happen to you if you lose?" queried Barry. + +"Yes. And I know Foley may not even give me a chance to lose," Tom added +grimly. + +"You've got nerve to burn, Tom," said Pig Iron. "It's not an easy +proposition. Myself, I'd as soon put on the gloves an' mix it up with +the devil. An' to spit it right out on the carpet, Tom, I think Buck's +done the union a lot o' good." + +"You're right there, Pete. No one knows that better than I do. As you +fellows know, I left town eight years ago and was bridging in the West +four years. I was pretty much of a kid when I went away, but I was old +enough to see the union didn't have enough energy left to die. When I +came back and saw what Foley'd done, I thought he was the greatest thing +that ever happened. If he'd quit right then the union'd 'a' papered the +hall with his pictures. But you know how he's changed since then. The +public knows it, too. Look how the newspapers have been shooting it into +him. I'm not fighting Foley as he was four or five years ago, Pete, but +Foley as he is now." + +"There's no denyin' he's so crooked now he can't lay straight in bed," +Pete admitted. + +"We've got to get rid of him some time, haven't we?" Tom went on. + +"Yes," the two men conceded. + +"Or sooner or later he'll smash the union. That's certain. Now there's +only one way to get rid of him. That's to go out after him, and go after +him hard." + +"But it's an awful risk for you, Tom," said Barry. + +"Someone's got to take it if we ever get rid of Foley." + +"One thing's straight, anyhow," declared Pete. "You're the best man in +the union to go against Foley." + +"Of course," said Barry. + +Tom did not deny it. + +There was a moment's silence. Then Pete asked: "What's your plan?" + +"Election comes the first meeting in March. I'm going to run against him +for walking delegate." + +"If you care anything for my opinion," said Pete, "here it is: You've +got about as much chance as a snowball in hell." + +"You're away off, Pig Iron. You know as well as I do that five-sixths of +the men in the union are against Foley. Why do they stand for him? +Because they're unorganized, and he's got them bluffed out. If those +men got together, Foley'd be the snowball. That's what I'm going to try +to do,--get those men in line." + +A door opened, and Mrs. Barry looked in. "I left my glasses somewhere in +there. Will I bother you men much if I look for 'em?" + +"Not me," said Tom. "You can stay and listen if you want to." + +Mrs. Barry sat down. "I suppose you don't mind tellin' us how you're +goin' to get the men in line," said Pete. + +"My platform's going to be an honest administration of the affairs of +the union, and every man to be treated like a man. That's simple enough, +ain't it?--and strong enough? And a demand for more wages. I'm going to +talk these things to every man I meet. If they can kick Foley out, and +get honest management and decent treatment, just by all coming out and +voting, don't you think they're going to do it? They'll all fall in +line." + +"That demand for more wages is a good card. Our wage contract with the +bosses expires May first, you know. The men all want more money; they +need it; they deserve it. If I talk for it Foley'll be certain to oppose +it, and that'll weaken him. + +"I wanted to talk this over with you fellows to get your opinion. I +thought you might suggest something. But even if you don't like the +scheme, and even if you don't want to join in the fight, I'm going to +stick it out. My mind's made up." + +Tom sank back into his chair and waited for the two men to speak. + +"Well, your scheme don't sound just like an insane asylum," Pete +admitted. "Count me in." + +Tom looked across at Barry. Barry's face was turned down and his hands +were inter-gripped. Tom understood. Barry had been out of work much +during the last three years, and recent illness in the family had +endowed him with debts. If he actively engaged in Tom's movement, and +Foley triumphed, Foley's vengeance would see to it that Barry worked no +more in New York. It was too great a risk to ask of a man situated as +Barry was. + +"I understand, Barry," said Tom. "That's all right. Don't you do it." + +Barry made no answer. + +Mrs. Barry put her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Jim, ain't we goin' +to be in on this fight against Foley?" + +"You know why, Mary." There was a catch in his voice. + +"Yes. Because of me an' the kids. You, I know you've got as much nerve +as anybody. We're goin' in, Jim. An' if we lose"--she tried to +smile--"why, I ain't much of a consumptive, am I? I'll take in washin' +to help out." + +Tom turned his face about. Pete did the same, and their eyes met. Pete's +face was set hard. He growled out something that sounded very much like +an oath. + +It was midnight when Tom left. The strike which Foley called on the St. +Etienne Hotel the next day gave him time for much thinking about his +campaign. He acquainted several of the more influential members of the +union with his purpose, asking them to keep secret what he said till he +was ready to begin an open fight. All gave him sympathy, but most of +them hesitated when it came to promising active assistance. "Now if +Foley only couldn't do us out of our jobs, in case you lose, we'd be +right with you. But----" Fear inclined them to let bad enough alone. + +This set Tom to thinking again. On Monday evening--that afternoon Foley +had ordered the men back to work on the St. Etienne Hotel--Tom announced +a new plan to Barry and Pete. "We want to get every argument we can to +use on the boys. It struck me we might make some use of the bosses. It's +to their interest, as well as to ours, for us to have the right sort of +delegate. If we could say that the bosses are sick of Foley and want us +to get a decent man, and will guarantee to keep us at work no matter what +Foley says,--that might have influence on some of the weak-kneed +brothers." + +"The boys'd say the bosses ain't runnin' the union," said Pete. "If you +get the bosses on your side, the boys'll all stand by Foley." + +"I thought of that. That's what'd happen if we got mixed up with anybody +on the Executive Committee of the bosses except Baxter. The boys think +Murphy, Bobbs, and Isaacs are pretty small potatoes, and they think +Driscoll's not on the square. I guess it's a case of the pot calling the +kettle black, but you know what Foley says about Driscoll. But with +Baxter it's different. He's friendly to the union, and the boys know it. +A word from him might help a lot. And he hates Foley, and Foley has no +use for him. I've heard Buck say as much." + +"It's worth tryin', anyhow," Pete and Barry agreed. + +"Well, I'm going to brace him to-morrow after work," said Tom. + + + + +Chapter V + +TOM SEEKS HELP FROM THE ENEMY + + +At the end of work the next day Tom joined the rush of men down the +ladders and the narrow servants' stairways, the only ones in as yet, and +on gaining the street made for the nearest saloon. Five cents invested +in beer secured for him the liberty of the house. He washed himself, +brushed his hair and clothing, and set forth for the office of Baxter & +Co. + +Baxter & Co. occupied one side of the tenth floor of a big downtown +office building. Tom found himself in a large waiting-room, divided by a +wooden railing, beyond which at a desk sat an imperious youth in a blue +uniform. + +"Is Mr. Baxter in?" Tom inquired. + +The uniform noted that Tom's clothes were worn and wrinkled. "He's +busy," it said stiffly. + +"Is he in?" + +"I s'pose he is." + +"Well, you tell him I want to see him. Keating's my name. I'll wait if +he's busy." + +The uniform carelessly handed him a slip of paper. "Write down yer name +an' business, an' I'll see if he'll see youse." + +With a gleam in his eyes Tom took the printed form, wrote his name and +"on business of the Iron Workers' Union." + +The boy accepted the slip and calmly read it. Tom gave him a push that +sent him spinning. "Get a move on you, there! I'm in a hurry." + +The boy gave a startled look back, and walked quickly down an alley that +ran between two rows of offices. Tom sat down in one of the +leather-bottomed chairs and with a show of coolness, but with inward +excitement, waited his interview with Mr. Baxter. He had never met an +employer in his life, save regarding his own work or as a member of a +strike committee. And now the first he was to meet in a private +interview was the most prominent employer in his trade--head of the big +firm of Baxter & Co., and president of the Iron Employers' Association. + +Several minutes passed before the uniform reappeared and led Tom into +Mr. Baxter's office, a large, airy room with red burlap walls, cherry +woodwork, cherry chairs, a long cherry table, a flat-top cherry desk. +The room was absolutely without attempt at decoration, and was as clean +as though it had been swept and dusted the minute before. The only piece +of paper in the room was an architect's drawing of a façade, which Mr. +Baxter was examining. + +Mr. Baxter did not look up immediately. Tom, standing with hat in hand, +was impressed with his busyness. He was not yet acquainted with the +devices by which men of affairs fortify their importance. + +Suddenly Mr. Baxter wheeled about in his chair. "I beg your pardon. Be +seated. What can I do for you?" + +He was perhaps forty-five or fifty--slender, of high, narrow brow, +steely eyes, and Vandyke beard. His neatness was equal to that of his +office; he looked as though he were fresh from barber, haberdasher and +tailor. Tom understood the success of the man in the first glance at his +face: he was as quick to act upon the opportunity as a steel trap. + +Tom sat down in one of the polished chairs, and affected composure by +throwing his left arm across the cherry table. "I belong to the Iron +Workers' Union. To come right to the point----" + +"I shall be obliged if you will. I'm really very busy." + +Mr. Baxter's tone was a model of courtesy. A more analytical man than +Tom might have felt the distinction that it was the courtesy a gentlemen +owes himself, not the courtesy one man owes another. Tom merely felt a +vague antagonism, and that put him at his ease. + +"I'm busy, too," he returned quietly. "What I've come to see you about +is a matter which I consider of great importance to the bosses and the +union. And I've come to see you because I know you are friendly to the +union." + +"I believe that in most cases the interests of the employers and the +interests of the union are practically the same." + +"And also because you don't like Foley." + +Mr. Baxter fingered his narrow watch chain a moment. "So you've come to +see me about Mr. Foley?" + +"Yes. There's no use going into details with you, Mr. Baxter. You know +the sort Foley is as well as I do. He bullies the union. That's nothing +to you. But he's not on the square with the bosses. That is. As you said +awhile ago, the interests of the bosses and the union are the same. It's +to the interest of both to get rid of Foley. That's so, ain't it?" + +Mr. Baxter's face was inscrutable. "You're going to turn him out then?" + +"We're going to try to." + +"And what will be your policy then?--if you don't mind my asking it." + +"To run things on the square." + +"A praiseworthy purpose. Of course you'll put in a square man as +delegate then." + +"I'm going to run myself." + +Tom thought he saw a significant look pass across Mr. Baxter's face. +"Not because I'm anxious for his job," he hastened to explain. "But +somebody's got to run against him." + +Mr. Baxter nodded slightly. "I see. Not a very popular risk." His keen +eyes never wavered from Tom's face. "How do you propose to defeat Foley? But +don't tell me anything you don't want to." + +Tom outlined his plans for organizing the better element against Foley. + +"That sounds feasible," was Mr. Baxter's comment when Tom had concluded. +His eyes were still fastened on Tom's face. "And after you win, there'll +be a strike?" + +This question, asked quietly but with electrical quickness, caught Tom +unprepared. He floundered an instant. "We've got to bridge two or three +rivers before we come to that one," he answered. + +Mr. Baxter hardly moved an eyelash. "That's obvious. And now, aside from +the benefit which we are to secure by the change, how does your plan +concern me?" + +"Since you are going to profit by the fight, if we win, I thought you +might help us. And you can do it easy enough. One thing that'll keep a +lot of the members from joining in the fight is that they're afraid, if +Foley wins out, he'll get 'em all fired. Now if you'll simply guarantee +that you'll stand by the men, why, they'll all come out against Foley +and we'll beat him five to one. There'll be no chance for us to lose." + +Mr. Baxter's white brow wrinkled in thought. Tom waited his words in +suspense. At length he spoke. + +"You will readily realize, Mr. Keating, that it is an almost +unprecedented step for us to take such a part in the affairs of a union. +Your suggestion is something I must think about." + +Tom had been certain Mr. Baxter would fall in with his scheme +enthusiastically. It required so little, merely his word, and assured so +much. Mr. Baxter's judicial reception of his plan shot him through with +disappointment. + +"What, don't it appeal to you?" he cried. + +"It certainly seems full of promise." + +"It will clear us of Foley--certain! And it is to the interest of both +of us that the union be run on the square." + +"That's true,--very true. But the most I can say to you now, Mr. +Keating, is that I'll take the matter under advisement. Come to see me +again in a few days." + +Mr. Baxter began to finger the drawing on his desk, whereby Tom knew the +interview was at an end. Greatly dashed, but somewhat reassured by the +contractor's last words, he said good-afternoon and withdrew. The +uniform respectfully opened the gate in the railing. In the uniform's +book of wisdom it was writ down that anyone who could be closeted with +your boss was deserving of courtesy. + +The instant the office door closed on Tom's back Mr. Baxter quickly rose +and paced the floor for several minutes. Then he sat down at his desk, +took a sheet of paper from a drawer, and dashed off a note to Foley. + +Mr. Baxter did not rise to greet Foley when the walking delegate entered +his office the next afternoon. "Mr. Foley," he said, with a short nod of +his head. + +"Youse guessed my name," said Foley, cooly helping himself to a chair. +"What's doin'?" + +The two men watched each other narrowly, as might two enemies who have +established a truce, yet who suspect treachery on the part of the other. +There was a distant superiority in the manner of Mr. Baxter,--and also +the hardly concealed strain of the man who, from policy or breeding, +would be polite where he loathes. Foley, tilted back in his chair, +matched this manner with an air of defiant self-assertion. + +Mr. Baxter rapidly sketched the outline of what Tom had said to him. + +"And so Keating come to youse for help," grinned Foley. "That ain't +bad!" + +Mr. Baxter did not recognize Foley's equality by smiling. "I thought it +to your interest to let you know this at once, for----" + +"And to your interest, too." + +"I knew you were not particularly desirous of having Mr. Keating +elected," he continued. + +"I'm just about as anxious as youse are," said Foley promptly. "Anyhow," +he added carelessly, "I already knew what youse told me." Which he did +not. + +"Then my sending for you and telling you has served no purpose." The +coldness of his voice placed a wide distance between himself and the +walking delegate. + +Foley perceived the distance, and took a vindictive pleasure in bridging +it with easy familiarity. "Not at all, Baxter. It gives youse a chance +to show how much youse like me, an' how much youse've got the interest +o' the union at heart." + +The lean, sarcastic face nettled Mr. Baxter. "I think my reputation +speaks for my interest in the union," he said stiffly. + +"Your interest in the union!" Foley laughed. + +No man had ever seen Mr. Baxter lose his self-control; but he was as +near losing it now as he had ever been, else he would not have made so +weak a rejoinder. + +"My reputation speaks for my interest," he repeated. "You won't find a +man in your union but that'll say I'm the union's friend." + +Foley laughed again--a harsh, biting laugh. "An' why do they say it, eh? +Because I told 'em so. An' youse've got the nerve, Baxter, to sit there +an' talk that rot to me!--me, the man that made youse!" + +"Made me!" + +Foley's heart leaped to see the wrathful color flame in the white cheek +of the suave and collected Mr. Baxter--to see the white shapely hands +twitch. + +"Yes, made youse!" And he went on with his grim pleasure. "Youse're +doin' twice the business youse were three years ago. Why did youse get +the contracts for the Atwell building and the Sewanee Hotel--the two +jobs that put youse at the head o' things in New York? Because Driscoll, +Bobbs, an' some o' the others had failed to get the jobs they were +workin' on done in contract time. An' why didn't they get done on time? +Because youse didn't want 'em to get through on time. I saw that they +got bum men, who made mistakes,--an' I give 'em their bellyful o' +strikes." + +"You didn't do these things out of love for me," Mr. Baxter put in +meaningly. He was getting himself in hand again. + +"Sure, I didn't,--not any more'n youse told me about Keating for love o' +me." + +Foley went on. "The men who want buildings put up have found youse get +through on time, an' the others don't--so youse get the business. Why do +youse get through on time? Because I see youse get the fastest men in +the union. An' because I see youse don't have any labor trouble." + +"Neither of which you do solely for love." + +"Sure not. Now don't youse say again I haven't made youse. An' don't +give me that hot air about bein' friendly to the union. Three years ago +youse seen clearer than the others that youse bosses was bound to lose +the strike. Youse'd been fightin' the union till then, an' not makin' +any more'n the rest o' the bosses. So youse tried a new game. Youse led +the other bosses round to give in, an' got the credit o' bein' a friend +o' the union. I know how much youse like the union!" + +"Pardon me if I fail to see the purpose of all this retrospection," said +Mr. Baxter sarcastically. + +"I just wanted to remind youse that I'm on to youse from hair to +toenails--that's all," Foley answered calmly. + +"I think it would be wiser to confine our conversation to the matter in +hand," said Mr. Baxter coldly. "Mr. Keating said he was certain to beat +you. What chance does he have of being elected?" + +"The same as youse." + +"And a strike,--how about that?" + +"It follows if I'm elected, don't it, there'll not be any strike." + +"That's according to our agreement," said Mr. Baxter. + +"No," said Foley, as he rose, "Keating ain't goin' to trouble youse +much." A hard look came over his face. "Nor me." + + + + +Chapter VI + +IN WHICH FOLEY PLAYS WITH TWO MICE + + +Foley left Mr. Baxter's office with the purpose of making straight for +the office of Mr. Driscoll; but his inborn desire to play with the mouse +caused him to change the direct road to an acute angle having at its +apex the St. Etienne Hotel. He paused a moment to look up at the great +black skeleton,--a lofty scaffolding that might have been erected for +some mural painter ambitious to fresco his fame upon the sky. He saw the +crane swing a beam to its place between two of the outside columns, and +saw a man step upon its either end to bolt it to its place. Suddenly the +crane jerked up the beam, and the men frantically threw their arms +around it. As suddenly the crane lowered it. It struck upon the head of +a column. Foley saw one man fly from the beam, catch hold of the end of +a board that extended over the edge of the building, hang there; saw the +beam, freed in some manner from the pulley hook, start down, ridden by +one man; and then saw it come whirling downward alone. + +"Look out!" he shouted with all his lungs. + +Pedestrians rushed wildly from beneath the shed which extended, as a +protection to them, over the sidewalk. Horses were jerked rearing +backwards. The black beam crashed through the shed and through the pine +sidewalk. Foley dashed inside and for the ladder. + +Up on the great scaffolding hands had seized the wrists of the pendant +man and lifted him to safety. All were now leaning over the platform's +edge, gazing far down at the ragged hole in the shed. + +"D'you see Pete?" Tom asked at large, in a strained voice. + +There were several noes. + +"That was certainly the last o' Pig Iron," muttered one of the gang. + +He was not disputed. + +"It wasn't my fault," said the signalman, as pale as paper. "I didn't +give any wrong signals. Someone below must 'a' got caught in the rope." + +"I'm going down," said Tom; and started rapidly for the ladder's +head--to be met with an ascending current of the sort of English story +books ascribe to pirates. Pete's body followed the words so closely as +to suggest a possible relation between the two. Tom worked Pete's hand. +The men crowded up. + +"Now who the"--some pirate words--"done that?" Pete demanded. + +"It was all an accident," Tom explained. + +"But I might 'a' been kilt!" + +"Sure you might," agreed Johnson sympathetically. + +"How is it you weren't?" Tom asked. + +"The beam, in whirlin' over, swung the end I was on into the floor +below. I grabbed a beam an' let it travel alone. That's all." + +Foley, breathing deeply from his rapid climb, emerged this instant from +the flooring, and walked quickly to the group. "Anybody kilt?" he asked. + +The particulars of the accident were given him. "Well, boys, youse see +what happens when youse got a foreman that ain't onto his job." + +Tom contemptuously turned his back and walked away. + +"I don't see why Driscoll don't fire him," growled Jake. + +"Who knows what'll happen!" Foley turned a twisted, knowing look about +the group. "He's been talkin' a lot!" + +He walked over to where Tom stood watching the gang about the north +crane. "I'm dead onto your game," he said, in a hard, quiet voice, his +eyes glittering. + +Tom was startled. He had expected Foley to learn of his plan, but +thought he had guarded against such an early discovery. "Well?" he said +defiantly. + +Foley began to play with his mouse. "I guess youse know things'll begin +to happen." He greedily watched Tom's face for signs of inward +squirming. "Remember the little promise I made youse t'other day? Buck +Foley usually keeps his promises, don't he--hey?" + +But the mouse refused to be played with. "The other beam, boys," it +called out to three men, and strode away toward them. + +Foley watched Tom darkly an instant, and then turned sharply about. At +the ladder's head Jake stopped him. + +"Get him fired, Buck. Here's your chance to get me that foreman's job +you promised me." + +"We'll see," Foley returned shortly, and passed down the ladder and +along the other leg of the angle to the office of Driscoll & Co. He gave +his name to Miss Arnold. She brought back the message that he should +call again, as Mr. Driscoll was too busy to see him. + +"Sorry, miss, but I guess I'm as busy as he is. I can't come again." And +Foley brushed coolly past her and entered Mr. Driscoll's office. + +"Good-afternoon, Mr. Driscoll," he said, showing his yellow teeth in a +smile, and helping himself to a chair. "Nice afternoon, ain't it?" + +Mr. Driscoll wheeled angrily about in his chair. "I thought I sent word +to you I was too busy to see you?" + +"So youse did, Mr. Driscoll. So youse did." + +"Well, I meant it!" He turned back to his desk. + +"I s'pose so," Foley said cheerfully. He tilted back easily in his +chair, and crossed his legs. "But, youse see, I could hardly come again, +an' I wanted very much to see youse." + +Mr. Driscoll looked as though he were going to explode. But fits of +temper at a thousand dollars a fit were a relief that he could afford +only now and then. He kept himself in hand, though the effort it cost +him was plain to Foley. + +"What d'you want to see me about? Be in a hurry. I'm busy." + +The point of Foley's tongue ran gratified between his thin lips, as his +eyes took in every squirm of this cornered mouse. "In the first place, I +come just in a social way. I wanted to return the calls youse made on me +last week. Youse see, I been studyin' up etiquette. Gettin' ready to +break into the Four Hundred." + +"And in the second place?" snapped Mr. Driscoll. + +Foley stepped to the office door, closed it, and resumed his back-tilted +seat. "In the second place, I thought I'd like to talk over one little +point about the St. Etienne job." + +Mr. Driscoll drew a check-book out of a pigeon-hole and dipped his pen. +"How much this time?" + +The sarcasm did not touch Foley. He made a wide negative sweep with his +right arm. "What I'm goin' to tell youse won't cost youse a cent. It's +as free as religion." The point of red again slipped between his lips. + +"Well?--I said I was busy." + +"Well, here it is: Don't youse think youse got a pretty bum foreman on +the St. Etienne job?" + +"What business is that of yours?" + +"Won't youse talk in a little more of a Christian spirit, Mr. Driscoll?" + +It was half a minute before Mr. Driscoll could speak in any kind of a +spirit. "Will you please come to the point!" + +"Why, I'm there already," the walking delegate returned sweetly. "As I +was sayin', don't youse think your foreman on the St. Etienne job is a +pretty bum outfit?" + +"Keating?--I never had a better." + +"D'youse think so? Now I was goin' to suggest, in a friendly way, that +youse get another man in his place." + +"Are you running my business, or am I?" + +"If youse'd only talk with a little more Christian----" + +The eyes clicked. The members of the church to which Mr. Driscoll +belonged would have stuffed fingers into their horrified ears at the +language in which Foley was asked to go to a place that was being +prepared for him. + +Foley was very apologetic. "I'm too busy now, an' I don't get my +vacation till August. Then youse ain't goin' to take my advice?" + +"No! I'm not!" + +The walking delegate stopped purring. He leaned forward, and the claws +pushed themselves from out their flesh-pads. "Let's me and youse make a +little bet on that, Mr. Driscoll. Shall we say a thousand a side?" + +Driscoll's eyes and Foley's battled for a moment. "And if I don't do +it?" queried Mr. Driscoll, abruptly. + +"I don't like to disturb youse by talkin' about unpleasant things. It +would be too bad if you didn't do it. Youse really couldn't afford any +more delays on the job, could youse?" + +Mr. Driscoll made no reply. + +Foley stood up, again purring. "It's really good advice, ain't it? I'll +send youse round a good man in the mornin' to take his place. Good-by." + +As Foley passed out Mr. Driscoll savagely brushed the papers before him +to one side of his desk, crushing them into a crumpled heap, and sat +staring into the pigeon-holes. He sent for Mr. Berman, who after +delivering an opinion in favor of Foley's proposition, departed for his +own office, pausing for a moment to lean over the desk of the fair +secretary. Presently, with a great gulp, Mr. Driscoll touched a button +on his desk and Miss Arnold appeared within the doorway. She was +slender, but not too slender. Her heavy brown hair was parted in the +middle and fell over either end of her low, broad forehead. The face was +sensitive, sensible, intellectual. Persons chancing into Mr. Driscoll's +office for the first time wondered how he had come by such a secretary. + +"Miss Arnold, did you ever see a jelly fish?" he demanded. + +"Yes." + +"Well, here's another." + +"I can't say I see much family resemblance," smiled Miss Arnold. + +"It's there, all right. We ain't got any nerve." + +"It seems to me you are riding the transmigration of soul theory at a +pretty hard pace, Mr. Driscoll. Yesterday, when you upset the bottle of +ink, you were a bull in a china shop, you know." + +"When you know me a year or two longer, you'll know I'm several sorts of +dumb animals. But I didn't call you to give you a natural history +lecture. Get Duffy on the 'phone, will you, and tell him to send Keating +around as soon as he can. Then come in and take some letters that I want +you to let me have just as quick as you can get them off." + +Two hours later Tom appeared in Miss Arnold's office. She had seen him +two or three times when he had come in on business, and had been struck +by his square, open face and his confident bearing. She now greeted him +with a slight smile. "Mr. Driscoll is waiting for you," she said; and +sent him straight on through the next door. + +Mr. Driscoll asked Tom to be seated and continued to hold his bulging +eyes on a sheet of paper which he scratched with a pencil. Tom, with a +sense of impending disaster, sat waiting for his employer to speak. + +At length Mr. Driscoll wheeled about abruptly. "What d'you think of +Foley?" + +"I've known worse men," Tom answered, on his guard. + +"You must have been in hell, then! You think better of him than I do. +And better than he thinks of you. He's just been in to see me. He wants +me to fire you." + +Tom had half-guessed this from the moment Duffy had told him Mr. +Driscoll wanted him, but nevertheless he was startled by its +announcement in words. He let several seconds pass, the while he got +hold of himself, then asked in a hard voice: "And what are you going to +do?" + +Mr. Driscoll knew what he was going to do, but his temper insisted on +gratification before he told his plan. "What can I do?" he demanded +testily. "It's your fault--the union's fault. And I don't have any +sympathy to waste for anything that happens to any of you. Why don't you +put a decent man in as your business agent?" + +Tom passed all this by. "So you're going to fire me?" + +"What else can I do?" Mr. Driscoll reiterated. + +"Hasn't my work been satisfactory?" + +"It isn't a question of work. If it's any satisfaction to you, I'll say +that I never had a foreman that got as much or as good work out of the +men." + +"Then you're firing me because Foley orders you to?" There were both +pity and indignation in Tom's voice. + +Mr. Driscoll had expected to put his foreman on the defensive; instead, +he found himself getting on that side. "If you want it right out, that's +it. But what can I do? I'm held up." + +"Do?" Tom stood up before his employer, neck and face red, eyes +flashing. "Why, fight him!" + +"I've tried that"--sarcastically--"thanks." + +"That's what's the matter with you bosses! You think more of dollars +than you do of self-respect!" + +Mr. Driscoll trembled. "Young man, d'you know who you're talking to?" + +"I do!" Tom cried hotly. "To the man who's firing me because he's too +cowardly to stand up for what's right!" + +Mr. Driscoll glared, his eyes clicked. Then he gave a great swallow. "I +guess you're about right. But if I understand the situation, I guess +there's a lot of men in your union that'd rather hold their jobs than +stand up for what's right." + +Tom, in his turn, had his fires drawn. "And I guess you're about right, +too," he had to admit. + +"I may be a coward," Mr. Driscoll went on, "but if a man puts a gun to +my head and says he'll pull the trigger unless I do what he says, I've +got to do it, that's all. And I rather guess you would, too. But let's +pass this by. I've got a plan. Foley can make me put you off one job, +but he can't make me fire you. Let's see; I'm paying you thirty a week, +ain't I?" + +"That's it." + +"Well, I'm going to give you thirty-five a week and put you to work in +the shop as a superintendent. Foley can't touch you there,--or me +either. Isn't that all right?" Mr. Driscoll wore a look of half-hearted +triumph. + +Tom had regarded Mr. Driscoll so long with dislike that even this +proposal, apparently uttered in good faith, made him suspicious. He +began to search for a hidden motive. + +"Well?" queried Mr. Driscoll impatiently. + +He could find no dishonest motive. "But if I took the job I'd have to go +out of the union," he said finally. + +"It oughtn't break your heart to quit Foley's company." + +Tom walked to the window and looked meditatively into the street. Mr. +Driscoll's offer was tempting. It was full of possibilities that +appealed to his ambition. He was confident of his ability to fill this +position, and was confident that he would develop capacity to fill +higher positions. This chance would prove the first of a series of +opportunities that would lead him higher and higher,--perhaps even to +Mr. Driscoll's own desk. He knew he had it in him. And the comfort, even +the little luxuries, the broader opportunities for self-development that +would be his, all appealed to him. And he was aware of the joy this new +career would give to Maggie. But to leave the union--to give up the +fight---- + +He turned back to Mr. Driscoll. "I can't do it." + +"What!" cried the contractor in amazement. + +"I can't do it," Tom repeated. + +"Do you know what you're throwing away? If you turned out well, and I +know you would, why there'd be no end of chances for advancement. I've +got a lot of weak men on my pay-roll." + +"I understand the chance, Mr. Driscoll. But I can't take it. Do you know +why Foley's got it in for me?" + +"He don't like you, I suppose." + +"Because he's found out, somehow, that I've begun a fight on him, and am +going to try to put him out of business. If I take this job, I've got to +drop the fight. And I'll never do that!" Tom was warming up again. "Do +you know the sort Foley is? I suppose you know he's a grafter?" + +"Yes. So does my pocket-book." + +"And so does his pocket-book. His grafting alone is enough to fight him +on. But there's the way he treats the union! You know what he's done to +me. Well, he's done that to a lot of others. He's got some of us scared +so we're afraid to breathe. And the union's just his machine. Now d'you +suppose I'm going to quit the union in that shape?" He brought his big +red fist thundering down on the desk before Mr. Driscoll. "No, by God! +I'm going to stick by the boys. I've got a few hundred saved. They'll +last me a while, if I can't get another job. And I'm going to fight that +damned skate till one of us drops!" + +Miss Arnold had come in the moment before with letters for Mr. +Driscoll's signature, and had stood through Tom's outburst. She now +handed the letters to Mr. Driscoll, and Tom for the first time noticed +her presence. It struck him full of confusion. + +"I beg pardon, miss. I didn't know you were here. I--I hope you didn't +mind what I said." + +"If Miss Arnold objects to what you said, I'll fire her!" put in Mr. +Driscoll. + +The secretary looked with hardly-concealed admiration at Tom, still +splendid in the dying glow of his defiant wrath. "If I objected, I'd +deserve to be fired," she said. Then she added, smiling: "You may say it +again if you like." + +After Miss Arnold had gone out Mr. Driscoll looked at Tom with blinking +eyes. "I suppose you think you're some sort of a hero," he growled. + +Tom's sudden confusion had collapsed his indignation. "No, I'm a man +looking for a job," he returned, with a faint smile. + +"Well, I'm glad you didn't take the job I offered you. I can't afford to +let fools help manage my business." + +Tom took his hat. "I suppose this is all," he said and started for the +door. + +"Hold on!" Mr. Driscoll stood up. "Why don't you shake hands with a man, +like a gentleman? There. That's the stuff. I want to say to you, +Keating, that I think you're just about all right. If ever you want a +job with me, just come around and say so and I'll give you one if I have +to fire myself to make a place for you. And if your money gives out, or +you need some to use in your fight, why I ain't throwing much away these +days, but you can get all you want by asking for it." + + + + +Chapter VII + +GETTING THE MEN IN LINE + + +His dismissal had been one of the risks Tom had accepted when he had +decided upon war, and though he felt it keenly now that it had come, yet +its chief effect was to intensify his resolution to overturn Buck Foley. +He strode on block after block, with his long, powerful steps, his +resolution gripping him fiercer and fiercer,--till the thought leaped +into his mind: "I've got to tell Maggie." + +He stopped as though a cold hand had been laid against his heart; then +walked on more slowly, considering how he should give the news to her. +His first thought was to say nothing of his dismissal for a few days. By +then he might have found another job, and the telling that he had lost +one would be an easy matter. But his second thought was that she would +doubtless learn the news from some of her friends, and would use her +tongue all the more freely because of his attempt at concealment; and, +furthermore, he would be in the somewhat inglorious position of the man +who has been found out. He decided to have done with it at once. + +When he entered his flat Maggie looked up in surprise from the tidy on +which she was working. "What! home already!" Then she noticed his face. +"Why, what's the matter?" + +Tom drew off his overcoat and threw it upon the couch. "I've been +fired." + +She looked at him in astonishment. "Fired!" + +"Yes." He sat down, determined to get through with the scene as quickly +as possible. + +For the better part of a minute she could not speak. "Fired? What for?" +she articulated. + +"It's Foley's work. He ordered Driscoll to." + +"You've been talking about Foley some more, then?" + +"I have." + +Tom saw what he had feared, a hard, accusing look spread itself over her +face. "And you've done that, Tom Keating, after what I, your wife, said +to you only last week? I told you what would happen. I told you Foley +would make us suffer. I told you not to talk again, and you've gone and +done it!" The words came out slowly, sharply, as though it were her +desire to thrust them into him one by one. + +Tom began to harden, as she had hardened. But at least he would give her +the chance to understand him. "You know what Foley's like. You know some +of the things he's done. Well, I've made up my mind that we oughtn't to +stand him any longer. I'm going to do what I can to drive him out of the +union." + +"And you've been talking this?" she cut in. "Oh, of course you have! No +wonder he got you fired! Oh, my God! I see it all. And you, you never +thought once of your wife or your child!" + +"I did, and you'll see when I tell you all," Tom said harshly. "But +would you have me stand for all the dirty things he does?" + +"Couldn't you keep out of his way--as I asked you to? Because a wolf's a +wolf, that's no reason why you should jump in his mouth." + +"It is if you can do him up. And I'm going to do Foley up. I'm going to +run against him as walking delegate. The situation ain't so bad as you +think," he went on, with a weak effort to appease her. "You think things +look dark, but they're going to be brighter than they ever were. I'll +get another job soon, and after the first of March I'll be walking +delegate. I'm going to beat Buck Foley, sure!" + +For a moment the vision of an even greater elevation than the one from +which they were falling made her forget her bitter wrath. Then it +flooded back upon her, and she put it all into a laugh. "You beat Buck +Foley! Oh, my!" + +Her ireful words he had borne with outward calm; he had learned they +were borne more easily, if borne calmly. But her sneering disbelief in +him was too much. He sprang up, his wrath tugging at its leash. She, +too, came to her feet, and stood facing him, hands clenched, breast +heaving, sneering, sobbing. Her words tumbled out. + +"Oh, you! you! Brighter days, you say. Ha! ha! You beat Buck Foley? Yes, +I know how! Buck Foley'll not let you get a job in your trade. You'll +have to take up some other work--if you can get it! Begin all over! +We'll grow poorer and poorer. We'll have to eat anything. I'll have to +wear rags. Just when we were getting comfortable. And all because you +wouldn't pay any attention to what I said. Because you were such a +fo-o-ol! Oh, my God! My God!" + +As she went on her voice rose to a scream, broken by gasps and sobs. At +the end she passionately jerked Tom's coat and hat from the couch and +threw herself upon it--and the frenzied words tumbled on, and on. + +Tom looked down upon her a moment, quivering with wrath and a nameless +sickness. Then he picked up hat and coat, and glancing at Ferdinand, who +had shrunk terrified into a corner, walked quickly out of the flat. + +He strode about the streets awhile, had dinner in a restaurant, and +then, as Wednesday was the union's meeting night, he went to Potomac +Hall. It fell out that he met Pete and Barry entering as he came up. + +"I guess you'll have another foreman to-morrow, boys," he announced; and +he briefly told them of his discharge. + +"It'll be us next, Rivet Head," said Pete. + +Barry nodded, his face pale. + +All the men in the hall learned that evening what had happened to Tom, +some from his friends, more from Foley's friends. And the manner of the +latter's telling was a warning to every listener. "D'you hear Keating +has been fired?" "Fired? No. What for?" A wise wink: "Well, he's been +talkin' about Foley, you know." + +Tom grew hot under, but ignored, the open jeering of the Foleyites. The +sympathy of his friends he answered with a quiet, but ominous, "Just you +wait!" There were few present of the men he had counted on seeing, and +soon after the meeting ended, which was unusually early, he started +home. + +It was after ten when he came in. Maggie sat working at the tidy; she +did not look up or speak; her passion had settled into resentful +obstinacy, and that, he knew from experience, only time could overcome. +He had not the least desire to assist time in its work of subjection, +and passed straight into their bedroom. + +Tom felt her sustained resentment, as indeed he could not help; but he +did not feel that which was the first cause of the resentment--her lack +of sympathetic understanding of him. At twenty-three he had come into a +man's wages, and Maggie's was the first pretty face he had seen after +that. The novelty of their married life had soon worn off, and with the +development of his stronger qualities and of her worst ones, it had +gradually come about that the only thoughts they shared were those +concerning their common existence in their home. Tom had long since +become accustomed to carrying his real ideas to other ears. And so he +did not now consciously miss wifely sympathy with his efforts. + +There was no break the next morning in Maggie's sullen resentment. After +an almost wordless breakfast Tom set forth to look for another job. An +opening presented itself at the first place he called. "Yes, it happens +we do need a foreman," said the contractor. "What experience have you +had?" + +Tom gave an outline of his course in his trade, dwelling on the last two +years and a half that he had been a foreman. + +"Um,--yes. That sounds very good. You say you worked last for Driscoll +on the St. Etienne job?" + +"Yes." + +"I suppose you don't mind telling why you left? Driscoll hasn't finished +that job yet." + +Tom briefly related the circumstances. + +"So you're out with Foley." The contractor shook his head. "Sorry. We +need a man, and I guess you're a good one. But if Foley did that to +Driscoll, he'll do the same to me. I can't afford to be mixed up in any +trouble with him." + +This conversation was a more or less accurate pattern of many that +followed on this and succeeding days. Tom called on every contractor of +importance doing steel construction work. None of them cared to risk +trouble with Foley, and so Tom continued walking the streets. + +One contractor--the man for whom he had worked before he went on the St. +Etienne job--offered Tom what he called some "business advice." "I'm a +pretty good friend of yours, Keating, for I've found you all on the +level. The trouble with you is, when you see a stone wall you think it +was put there to butt your head against. Now, I'm older than you are, +and had a lot more experience, and let me tell you it's a lot easier, +and a lot quicker, when you see trouble across your path like a stone +wall, to go round it than it is to try to butt it out of your way. Stop +butting against Foley. Make up with him, or go to some other city. Go +round him." + +In the meantime Tom was busy with his campaign against Foley. He was +discharged on the fourteenth of February; the election came on the +seventh of March; only three weeks, so haste was necessary. On the days +he was tramping about for a job he met many members of the union also +looking for work, and to these he talked wherever he found them. And +every night he was out talking to the men, in the streets, in saloons, +in their own homes. + +The problem of his campaign was a simple one--to get at least five +hundred of the three thousand members of the union to come to the hall +on election night and cast their votes against Foley. His campaign, +therefore, could have no spectacular methods and no spectacular +features. Hard, persistent work, night after night--that was all. + +On the evening after the meeting and on the following evening Tom had +talks with several leading men in the union. A few joined in his plan +with spirit. But most that he saw held back; they were willing to help +him in secret, but they feared the result of an open espousal of his +cause. There were only a dozen men, including Barry and Pete, who were +willing to go the whole way with him, and these he formed loosely into a +campaign committee. They held a caucus and nominations for all offices +were made, Tom being chosen to run for walking delegate and president. +The presidency was unsalaried, and during Foley's régime had become an +office of only nominal importance; all real power that had ever +belonged to the position had been gradually absorbed by the office of +walking delegate. At the meeting on the twenty-first Tom's ticket was +formally presented to the union, as was also Foley's. + +Even before this the dozen were busy with a canvass of the union. The +members agreed heartily to the plan of demanding an increase in wages, +for they had long been dissatisfied with the present scale. But to come +out against Foley, that was another matter. Tom found, as he had +expected, that his arguments had to be directed, not at convincing the +men that Foley was bad, but at convincing them it was safe to oppose +him. Reformers are accustomed to explain their failure by saying they +cannot arouse the respectable element to come out and vote against +corruption. They would find that even fewer would come to the polls if +the voters thereby endangered their jobs. + +The answers of the men in almost all cases were the same. + +"If I was sure I wouldn't lose my job, I'd vote against Foley in a +minute. But you know well enough, Tom, that we have a hard enough time +getting on now. Where'd we be if Foley blacklisted us?" + +"But there's no danger at all, if enough of us come out," Tom would +reply. "We can't lose." + +"But you can't count on the boys coming out. And if we lose, Foley'll +make us all smart. He'll manage to find out every man that voted against +him." + +Here was the place in which the guarantee he had sought from Mr. Baxter +would fit in. Impelled by knowledge of the great value of this +guarantee, Tom went to see the big contractor a few days after his first +visit. The uniform traveled down the alley between the offices and +brought back word that Mr. Baxter was not in. Tom called again and +again. Mr. Baxter was always out. Tom was sorely disappointed by his +failure to get the guarantee, but there was nothing to do but to make +the best of it; and so he and his friends went on tirelessly with their +nightly canvassing. + +The days, of course, Tom continued to spend in looking for work. In +wandering from contractor to contractor he frequently passed the +building in which was located the office of Driscoll & Co.; and, a week +after his discharge, as he was going by near one o'clock, it chanced +Miss Arnold was coming into the street. They saw each other in the same +instant. Tom, with his natural diffidence at meeting strange women, was +for passing her by with a lift of his hat. "Why, Mr. Keating!" she +cried, with a little smile, and as they held the same direction he could +but fall into step with her. + +"What's the latest war news?" she asked. + +"One man still out of a job," he answered, taking refuge in an attempt +at lightness. "No actual conflict yet. I'm busy massing my forces. So +far I have one man together--myself." + +"You ought to find that a loyal army." She was silent for a dozen paces, +then asked impulsively: "Have you had lunch yet?" + +Tom threw a surprised look down upon her. "Yes. Twelve o'clock's our +noon hour. We men are used to having our lunch then." + +"I thought if you hadn't we might have lunched in the same place," she +hastened to explain, with a slight flush of embarrassment. "I wanted to +ask you some questions. You see, since I've been in New York I've been +in a way thrown in contact with labor unions. I've read a great deal on +both sides. But the only persons I've had a chance to talk to have all +been on the employers' side,--persons like Mr. Driscoll and my uncle, +Mr. Baxter." + +"Baxter, the contractor--Baxter & Co.?" + +"Yes." + +Tom wondered what necessity had forced the niece of so rich a man as Mr. +Baxter to earn her living as a stenographer. + +"I've often wanted to talk with some trade union man, but I've never had +the chance. I thought you might tell me some of the things I want to +know." + +The note of sincere disappointment in Miss Arnold's voice brought a +suggestion to Tom's mind that both embarrassed and attracted. He was not +accustomed to the society of women of Miss Arnold's sort, whose order of +life had been altogether different from his own, and the idea of an hour +alone with her filled him with a certain confusion. But her freshness +and her desire to know more of the subject that was his whole life +allured him; and his interest was stronger than his embarrassment. "For +that matter, I'm not busy, as you know. If you would like it, I can talk +to you while you eat." + +For the next hour they sat face to face in the quiet little restaurant +to which Miss Arnold had led the way. The other patrons found themselves +looking over at the table in the corner, and wondering what common +subject could so engross the refined young woman in the tailored gown +and the man in ill-fitting clothes, with big red hands, red neck and +crude, square face. For their part these two were unconscious of the +wondering eyes upon them. With a query now and then from Miss Arnold, +Tom spiritedly presented the union side of mooted questions of the +day,--the open shop, the strike, the sympathetic strike, the boycott. +The things Miss Arnold had read had dealt coldly with the moral and +economic principles involved in these questions. Tom spoke in human +terms; he showed how every point affected living men, and women, and +children. The difference was the difference between a treatise and life. + +Miss Arnold was impressed,--not alone by what Tom said, but by the man +himself. The first two or three times she had seen him, on his brief +visits to the office, she had been struck only by a vague bigness--a +bigness that was not so much of figure as of bearing. On his last visit +she had been struck by his bold spirit. She now discovered the crude, +rugged strength of the man: he had thought much; he felt deeply; he +believed in the justice of his cause; he was willing, if the need might +be, to suffer for his beliefs. And he spoke well, for his sentences, +though not always grammatical, were always vital. He seemed to present +the very heart of a thing, and let it throb before the eyes. + +When they were in the street again and about to go their separate ways, +Miss Arnold asked, with impulsive interest: "Won't you talk to me again +about these things--some time?" + +Tom, glowing with the excitement of his own words and of her sympathetic +listening, promised. It was finally settled that he should call the +following Sunday afternoon. + +Back at her desk, Miss Arnold fell to wondering what sort of man Tom +would be had he had four years at a university, and had his life been +thrown among people of cultivation. His power, plus these advantages, +would have made him--something big, to say the least. But had he gone to +college he would not now be in a trade union. And in a trade union, Miss +Arnold admitted to herself, was where he was needed, and where he +belonged. + +Tom went on his way in the elation that comes of a new and gratifying +experience. He had never before had so keen and sympathetic a listener. +And never before had he had speech with a woman of Miss Arnold's +type--educated, thoughtful, of broad interests. Most of the women he had +known necessity had made into household drudges--tired and +uninteresting, whose few thoughts rarely ranged far from home. Miss +Arnold was a discovery to him. Deep down in his consciousness was a +distinct surprise that a woman should be interested in the big things of +the outside world. + +He was fairly jerked out of his elation, when, on turning a corner, he +met Foley face to face in front of a skyscraper that was going up in +lower Broadway. It was their first meeting since Foley had tried to +have grim sport out of him on the St. Etienne Hotel. + +Foley planted himself squarely across Tom's path. "Hello, Keating! +How're youse? Where youse workin' now?" + +The sneering good-fellowship in Foley's voice set Tom's blood +a-tingling. But he tried to step to one side and pass on. Again Foley +blocked his way. + +"I understand youse're goin' to be the next walkin' delegate o' the +union. That's nice. I s'pose these days youse're trainin' your legs for +the job?" + +"See here, Buck Foley, are you looking for a fight? If you are, come +around to some quiet place and I'll mix it up with you all you want." + +"I don't fight a man till he gets in my class." + +"If you don't want to fight, then get out of my way!" + +With that Tom stepped forward quickly and butted his hunched-out right +shoulder against Foley's left. Foley, unprepared, swung round as though +on a pivot. Tom brushed by and continued on his way with unturned head. + +Again the walking delegate proved that he could swear. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +THE COWARD + + +Two days before his meeting with Miss Arnold Tom had been convinced that +any more time was wasted that was spent in looking for a job as foreman. +He had before him the choice of being idle or working in the gang. He +disliked to do the latter, regarding it as a professional relapse. But +he was unwilling to draw upon his savings, if that could be avoided, so +he decided to go back into the ranks. The previous evening he had heard +of three new jobs that were being started. The contractors on two of +them he had seen during the morning; and after his encounter with Foley +he set out to interview the third. The contractor was an employer of the +smallest consequence--a florid man with little cunning eyes. "Yes, I do +need some men," he replied to Tom's inquiry. "How much d'you want?" + +"Three seventy-five a day, the regular rate." + +The contractor shook his head. "Too much. I can only pay three." + +"But you signed an agreement to pay the full rate!" Tom cried. + +"Oh, a man signs a lot o' things." + +Tom was about to turn away, when his curiosity got the better of his +disgust. For a union man to work under the scale was an offense against +the union. For an employer to pay under the scale was an offense +against the employers' association. Tom decided to draw the contractor +out. "Well, suppose I go to work at three dollars, how do we keep from +being discovered?" he asked. + +The little eyes gleamed with appreciation of their small cunning. "I +make this agreement with all my men: You get the full amount in your +envelope Saturday. Anybody that sees you open your envelope sees that +you're gettin' full scale. Then you hand me back four-fifty later. +That's for money I advanced you durin' the week. D'you understand?" + +"I do," said Tom. "But I'm no three dollar man!" + +"Hold on!" the contractor cried to Tom's back. His cunning told him in +an instant that he had made a mistake; that this man, if let go, might +make trouble. "I was just foolin' you. Of course, I'll pay you full +rate." + +Tom knew the man was lying, but he had no real proof that the contractor +was breaking faith both with the union and his fellow employers; so, as +he needed the money, he took the offered position and went to work the +next morning. The job was a fire-engine house just being started on the +upper west side of the island. The isolation of the job and the +insignificance of the contractor made Tom feel there was a chance Foley +might overlook him for the next two weeks. + +On the following Saturday morning three new men began work on the job. +One of them Tom was certain he knew--a tall, lank fellow, chiefly knobs +and angles, with wide, drooping shoulders and a big yellow mustache. Tom +left his place at the crane of the jimmy derrick and ran down a plank +into the basement to where this man and four others were rolling a round +column to its place. + +He touched the man on the shoulder. "Your name's Petersen, ain't it?" + +"Yah," said the big fellow. + +"And you worked for a couple of days on the St. Etienne Hotel?" + +"Yah." + +Tom did his duty as prescribed by the union rules. He pointed out +Petersen as a scab to the steward. Straightway the men crowded up and +there was a rapid exchange of opinions. Tom and the steward wanted that +a demand for Petersen's discharge be made of the contractor. But the +others favored summary action, and made for where the big Swede was +standing. + +"Get out!" they ordered. + +Petersen glowered at the crowd. "I lick de whole bunch!" he said with +slow defiance. + +The men were brought to a pause by his threatening attitude. His +resentful eyes turned for an instant on Tom. The men began to move +forward cautiously. Then the transformation that had taken place on the +St. Etienne Hotel took place again. The courage faded from him, and he +turned and started up the inclined plank for the street. + +Jeers broke from the men. Caps and greasy gloves pelted Petersen's +retreating figure. One man, the smallest of the gang, ran up the plank +after him. + +"Do him up, Kid!" the men shouted scrambling up to the sidewalk. + +Kid, with showy valiance, aimed an upward blow at the Swede's head. +Petersen warded off the fist with automatic ease, but made no attempt to +strike back. He started away, walking sidewise, one eye on his path, one +on his little assailant who kept delivering fierce blows that somehow +failed to reach their mark. + +"If he ain't runnin' from Kid!" ejaculated the men. "Good boy, Kid!" + +The blows became faster and fiercer. At the corner Petersen turned back, +held his foe at bay an instant, and a second time Tom felt the +resentment of his eyes. Then he was driven around the corner. A minute +later the little man came back, puffed out and swaggering. + +"What an infernal coward!" the men marveled, as they went back to work. + +That was a hard evening for Tom. He not only had to work for votes, but +he met two or three lieutenants who were disheartened by the men's +slowness to promise support, and to these friends he had to give new +courage. Twice, as he was talking to men on the street, he glimpsed the +tall, lean figure of Petersen, standing in a doorway as though waiting +for someone. + +The end of his exhausting evening's work found him near the Barrys', and +he dropped in for an exchange of experiences. Barry and Pig Iron Pete +had themselves come in but a few minutes before. + +"Got work on your job for a couple more men?" asked Pete after the first +words had been spoken. + +"Hello! You haven't been fired?" + +"That's it," answered Pete; and Barry nodded. + +"Foley's work, I suppose?" + +"Sure. Foley put Jake Henderson up to it. Oh, Jake makes a hot foreman! +Driscoll ought to pay him ten a day to keep off the job. Jake complained +against us an' got us fired. Said we didn't know our business." + +"Well, it's only for another week, boys," Tom cheered them. + +"If you think that then you've had better luck with the men than me 'n' +Barry has," Pete declared in disgust. "They're a bunch o' old maids! +Foley's too good for 'em. I don't see why we should try to force 'em to +take somethin' better." The whole blankety-blanked outfit had Pete's +permission to go where they didn't need a forge to heat their rivets. + +"You don't understand 'em, Pete," returned Tom. "They've got to think +first of all of how to earn a living for their families. Of course +they're going to hesitate to do anything that will endanger their chance +to earn a living. And you seem to forget that we've only got to get one +man in five to win out." + +"An' we've got to get him!" said Barry, almost fiercely. + +"D'you think there's much danger of your losin', Tom?" Mrs. Barry +queried anxiously. + +"Not if we work. But we've got to work." + +Mrs. Barry was silent for several moments, during which the talk of the +men ran on. Suddenly, she broke in: "Don't you think the women'd have +some influence with their husbands?" + +Tom was silent for a thoughtful minute. "Some of them, mebbe." + +"More'n you think, I bet!" Mrs. Barry declared. "It's worth tryin', +anyhow. Here's what I'm goin' to do: I'm goin' to start out to-morrow +an' begin visitin' all the union women I know. I can get the addresses +of others from them. An' I'll keep at it every afternoon I can get away +till the election. I'll talk to 'em good an' straight an' get 'em to +talk to other women. An' we'll get a lot o' the men in line, see if we +don't!" + +Tom looked admiringly at Mrs. Barry's homely face, flushed with +determination. "The surest thing we can do to win is to put you up for +walking delegate. I'll hustle for you." + +"Oh, g'wan with you, Tom!" She smiled with pleasure, however. "I've got +a picture o' myself climbin' up ladders an' buyin' drinks for the men." + +"If you was the walkin' delegate," said Pete, "we'd always work on the +first floor, an' never drink nothin' but tea." + +"You shut up, Pete!" Mrs. Barry looked at Tom. "I suppose you're wife'll +help in this, too?" + +Tom looked steadily at the scroll in Mrs. Barry's red rug. "I'm afraid +not," he said at length. "She--she couldn't stand climbing the stairs." + +It was after eleven o'clock when Tom left the Barrys' and started +through the quiet cross street toward a car line. A man stepped from an +adjoining doorway, and fell in a score of paces behind him. Tom heard +rapid steps drawing nearer and nearer, but it was not till the man had +gained to within a pace that it occurred to him perhaps he was being +followed. Then it was too late. His arm was seized in a grip of steel. + +The street was dark and empty. Thoughts of Foley's entertainment +committee flashed through his head. He whirled about and struck out +fiercely with his free arm. His wrist was caught and held by a grip like +the first. He was as helpless as if handcuffed. + +"I vant a yob," a savage voice demanded. + +Tom recognized the tall, angular figure. "Hello, Petersen! What d'you +want?" + +"I vant a yob." + +"A job. How can I give you a job?" + +"You take to-day ma yob avay. You give me a yob!" + +In a flash Tom understood. The Swede held him accountable for the +incident of the morning, and was determined to force another job from +him. Was the man crazy? At any rate 'twould be wiser to parley than to +bring on a conflict with one possessed of such strength as those hands +betokened. So he made no attempt to break loose. + +"I can't give you a job, I say." + +"You take it avay!" the Swede said, with fierce persistence. "You make +me leave!" + +"It's your own fault. If you want to work, why don't you get into the +union?" + +Tom felt a convulsive shiver run through the man's big frame. "De union? +Ah, de union! Ev'ryvare I ask for yob. Ev'ryvare! 'You b'long to union?' +de boss say. 'No,' I say. De boss give me no yob. De union let me not +vork! De union----!" His hands gripped tighter in his impotent +bitterness. + +"Of course the union won't let you work." + +"Vy? I am strong!--yes. I know de vork." + +Tom felt that no explanation of unionism, however lucid, would quiet +this simple-minded excitement. So he said nothing. + +"Vy should I not vork? Dare be yobs. I know how to vork. But no! De +union! I mak dis mont' two days. I mak seven dollar. Seven dollar!" He +fairly shook Tom, and a half sob broke from his lips. "How de union tank +I live? My family?--me? Seven dollar?" + +Tom recognized with a thrill that which he was hearing. It was the man's +soul crying out in resentment and despair. + +"But you can't blame the union," he said weakly, feeling that his answer +did not answer. + +"You tank not?" Petersen cried fiercely. "You tank not?" He was silent a +brief space, and his breath surged in and out as though he had just +paused from running. Suddenly he freed Tom's wrists and set his right +hand into Tom's left arm. "Come! I show you vot de union done." + +He started away. Those iron fingers locked about the prisoner's arm were +a needless fetter. The Swede's despairing soul, glimpsed for a moment, +had thrown a spell upon Tom, and he would have followed willingly. + +Their long strides matched, and their heel-clicks coincided. Both were +silent. At the end of ten minutes they were in a narrow street, clifted +on its either side with tenements that reached up darkly. Presently the +Swede turned down a stairway, sentineled by garbage cans. Tom thought +they were entering a basement. But Petersen walked on, and in the solid +blackness Tom was glad of the hand locked on his arm. They mounted a +flight of stone steps, and came into a little stone-paved court. Far +above there was a roof-framed square of stars. Petersen led the way +across the court and into the doorway of a rear tenement. The air was +rotting. They went up two flights of stairs, so old that the wood +shivered under foot. Petersen opened a door. A coal oil lamp burned on +an otherwise barren table, and beside the table sat a slight woman with +a quilt drawn closely about her. + +She rose, the quilt fell from her shoulders, and she stood forth in a +faded calico wrapper. "Oh, Nels! You've come at last!" she said. Then +she saw Tom, and drew back a step. + +"Yah," said Petersen. He dragged Tom after him into the room and swept +his left arm about. "See!--De union!" + +The room was almost bare. The table, three wooden chairs, a few dishes, +a cooking-stove without fire,--this was the furniture. Half the +plastering was gone from the ceiling, the blue kalsomine was scaling +leprously from the walls, in places the floor was worn almost through. +In another room he saw a child asleep on a bed. + +There was just one picture on the walls, a brown-framed photograph of a +man in the dress and pose of a prize fighter--a big, tall, angular man, +with a drooping mustache. Tom gave a quick glance at Petersen. + +"See!--De union!" Petersen repeated fiercely. + +The little woman came quickly forward and laid her hand on Petersen's +arm. "Nels, Nels," she said gently. + +"Yah, Anna. But he is de man vot drove me from ma yob." + +"We must forgive them that despitefully use us, the Lord says." + +Petersen quieted under her touch and dropped Tom's arm. + +She turned her blue eyes upon Tom in gentle accusation. "How could you? +Oh, how could you?" + +Tom could only answer helplessly: "But why don't he join the union?" + +"How can he?" + +The words echoed within Tom. How could he? Everything Tom saw had not +the value of half the union's initiation fee. + +There was an awkward silence. "Won't you sit down, brother." Mrs. +Petersen offered Tom one of the wooden chairs, and all three sat down. +He noted that the resentment was passing from Petersen's eyes, and that, +fastened on his wife, they were filling with submissive adoration. + +"Nels has tried very hard," the little woman said. They had been in the +West for three years, she went on; Nels had worked with a non-union crew +on a bridge over the Missouri. When that job was finished they had spent +their savings coming to New York, hearing there was plenty of work +there. "We had but twenty dollars when we got here. How could Nels join +the union? We had to live. An' since he couldn't join the union, the +union wouldn't let him work. Brother, is that just? Is that the sort o' +treatment you'd like to get?" + +Tom was helpless against her charges. The union was right in principle, +but what was mere correctness of principle in the presence of such a +situation? + +"Would you be willing to join the union?" he asked abruptly of Petersen. + +It was Petersen's wife who answered. "O' course he would." + +"Well, don't you worry any more then. He won't have any trouble getting +a job." + +"How?" asked the little woman. + +"I'm going to get him in the union." + +"But that costs twenty-five dollars." + +"Yes." + +"But, brother, we haven't got _one_!" + +"I'll advance it. He can pay it back easy enough afterwards." + +The little woman rose and stood before Tom. Her thin white face was +touched up faintly with color, and tears glistened in her eyes. She took +Tom's big red hand in her two frail ones. + +"Brother, if you ain't a Christian, you've got a Christian heart!" she +cried out, and the thin hands tightened fervently. She turned to her +husband. "Nels, what did I say! The Lord would not forget them that +remembered him." + +Tom saw Petersen stand up, nothing in his eyes now but adoration, and +open his arms. He turned his head. + +For the second time Tom took note of the brown-framed photograph, with +"The Swedish Terror" in black letters at its bottom, and rose and stood +staring at it. Presently, Mrs. Petersen drew to his side. + +"We keep it before us to remind us what wonders the Lord can work, bless +His holy name!" she explained. "Nels was a terrible fightin' man before +we was married an' I left the Salvation Army. A terrible fightin' man!" +Even in her awe of Petersen's one-time wickedness Tom could detect a +lurking admiration of his prowess. "The Lord has saved him from all +that. But he has a terrible temper. It flares up at times, an' the old +carnal desire to fight gets hold o' him again. That's his great +weakness. But we pray that God will keep him from fightin', an' God +does!" + +Tom looked at the little woman, a bundle of religious ardor, looked at +Petersen with his big shoulders, thought of the incident of the morning. +He blinked his eyes. + +Tom stepped to the table and laid down a five-dollar bill. "You can pay +that back later." He moved quickly to the door. "Good-night," he said, +and tried to escape. + +But Mrs. Petersen was upon him instantly. "Brother! Brother!" She seized +his hands again in both hers, and looked at him with glowing eyes. +"Brother, may God bless you!" + +Tom blinked his eyes again. "Good-night," he said. + +Petersen stepped forward and without a word took Tom's arm. The grasp +was lighter than when they had come up. Again Tom was glad of the +guidance of that hand as they felt their way down the shivering stairs, +and out through the tunnel. + +"Good-night," he said once more, when they had gained the street. + +Petersen gripped his hand in awkward silence. + + + + +Chapter IX + +RUTH ARNOLD + + +Ruth Arnold was known among her friends as a queer girl. Neither the new +ones in New York nor the old ones of her birth town understood her +"strange impulses." They were constantly being shocked by ideas and +actions which they considered, to phrase it mildly, very unusual. The +friends in her old home were horrified when she decided to become a +stenographer. Friends in both places were horrified when, a little less +than a year before, it became known she was going to leave the home of +her aunt to become Mr. Driscoll's secretary. "What a fool!" they cried. +"If she had stayed she might have married ever so well!" Mrs. Baxter had +entreated, and with considerable elaboration had delivered practically +these same opinions. But Ruth was obstinate in her queerness, and had +left. + +However, only a few weeks before, Mrs. Baxter had had a partial +recompense for Ruth's disappointing conduct. She had noted the growing +intimacy between Mr. Berman, who was frequently at her house, and Ruth, +and by delicate questioning had drawn the calm statement from her niece +that Mr. Berman had asked her in marriage. + +"Of course you said 'yes,'" said Mrs. Baxter. + +Ruth had not. + +"My child! Why not?" + +"I don't love him." + +"What of that?" demanded her aunt, who loved her husband. "Love will +come. He is educated, a thorough gentleman, and has money. What more do +you want in a husband? And your uncle says he is very clever in +business." + +Thus brought to bay, Ruth had taken her aunt into the secret that her +refusal had not been final and that Mr. Berman had given her six months +in which to make up her mind. This statement was Mrs. Baxter's partial +recompense. "Then you'll marry him, Ruth!" she declared, and kissed her +lightly. + +Ruth understood herself no better than did her friends. She was not +conscious that she had in a measure that rare endowment--the clear +vision which perceives the things of life in their true relation and at +their true value, plus the instinct to act upon that vision. It was the +manifestations of this instinct that made her friends call her queer. +Her instinct, however, did not hold her in sole sway. Her training had +fastened many governing conventions upon her, and she was not always as +brave as her inward promptings. Her actions made upon impulse were +usually in accord with this instinct. Her actions that were the result +of thought were frequently in accord with convention. + +It was her instinct that had impelled her to ask Tom to call. It was +convention that, on Sunday afternoon, made her await his coming with +trepidation. She was genuinely interested in the things for which Tom +stood, and her recent-born admiration of him was sincere. Nevertheless +his approaching visit was in the nature of an adventure to her. This +workingman, transferred from the business world to the social world, +might prove himself an embarrassing impossibility. Especially, she +wondered, with more than a little apprehension, how he would be dressed. +She feared a flaming necktie crawling up his collar, and perhaps in it a +showy pin; or a pair of fancy shoes; or a vest of assertive pattern; or, +perhaps, hair oil! + +When word was brought her by a maid that Tom was below, she gave an +order that he was to wait, and put on her hat and jacket. She did not +know him well enough to ask him to her room. She could not receive him +in the parlor common to all the boarding-house. Her instinctive self +told her it would be an embarrassment to him to be set amid the +gossiping crowd that gathered there on Sunday afternoon. Her +conventional self told her that, if he were but a tenth as bad as was +possible, it would be more than an embarrassment for her to sit beside +him amid those curious eyes. The street was the best road out of the +dilemma. + +He was sitting in the high-backed hall chair when she came down. "Shall +we not take a walk?" she asked. "The day is beautiful for February." + +Tom acceded gratefully. He had glanced through the parted portières into +the parlor, and his minutes of waiting had been minutes of +consternation. + +The first thing Ruth noted when they came out into the light of the +street was that his clothes were all in modest taste, and she thrilled +with relief. Mixed with this there was another feeling, a glow of +pleasure that he was vindicating himself to her conventional part. + +Ruth lived but a few doors from Central Park. As they started across +Central Park West a big red automobile, speeding above the legal rate, +came sweeping down upon them, tooting its arrogant warning. Tom jerked +Ruth back upon the sidewalk. She glared at the bundled-up occupants of +the scurrying car. + +"Don't it make you feel like an anarchist when people do that?" she +gasped. + +"Not the bomb-throwing sort." + +"Why not? When people do that, I've got just one desire, and that's to +throw a bomb!" + +"What good would a bomb here or there do? Or what harm?" Tom asked +humorously. "What's the use trying to destroy people that're already +doomed?" + +Ruth was silent till they gained the other side of the street. "Doomed? +What do you mean?" she then asked. + +"Every dog has his day, you know. Them rich people are having theirs. +It's a summer day, and I guess it's just about noon now. But it's +passing." + +Ruth had learned during her conversation with him on the previous +Tuesday that a large figurative statement such as this was likely to +have a great many ideas behind it, so she now proceeded to lead him to +the ideas' expression. The sun, drawing good-humoredly from his summer's +store, had brought thousands to the Park walks, and with genial +presumption had unbuttoned their overcoats. The bare gray branches of +bush and tree glinted dully in the warm light, as if dreamfully smiling +over the budding days not far ahead. But Tom had attention for the joy +of neither the sun nor his dependents. He thought only of what he was +saying, for he had been led to speech upon one of his dearest subjects. + +Though he had left school at thirteen to begin work, he had attended +night school for a number of years, had belonged to a club whose chief +aim was debating, had read a number of solid books and had done a great +deal of thinking for himself. As a result of his reading, thinking and +observation he had come into some large ideas concerning the future of +the working class. In the past, he now said to Ruth, classes had risen +to power, served their purpose, and been displaced by new classes +stimulated by new ideas. The capitalist class was now in power, and was +performing its mission--the development and centralization of +industries. But its decline would be even more rapid than its rise. It +would be succeeded by the working class. The working class was vast in +numbers, and was filled with surging energy. Its future domination was +certain. + +"And you believe this?" Ruth queried when he came to a pause. + +"I know it." + +"Admitting that all these things are coming about--which I don't--don't +you honestly think it would be disastrous to the general interest for +the workingman to come into power?" + +"You mean we would legislate solely in our own interests? What if we +did? Hasn't every class that ever came into power done that? Anyhow, +since we make up nine-tenths of the people we'd certainly be legislating +in the interests of the majority--which can't always be said now. And as +for our ability to run things, I'd rather have an honest fool than a +grafter that knows it all. But if you mean we're a pretty rough lot, and +haven't much education, I guess you're about right. How can we help it? +We've never had a chance to be anything else. But think what the working +class was a hundred years ago! Haven't we come up? Thousands of miles! +That's because we've been getting more and more chances, like chances +for an education, that used to belong only to the rich. And our chances +are increasing. Another hundred years and we won't know ourselves. We'll +be fit for anything!" + +"I see you're very much of a dreamer." + +"Dreamer? Not at all! If you were to look ahead and say in a hundred +years from now it'll be 2000, would you call that a dream?" + +"Hardly!" Ruth admitted with a smile. + +"Well, what I'm telling you is just as certain as the passage of time. +I'm anything but a dreamer. I believe in a present for the working class +as well as a future. I believe that we, if we work hard, have the right, +now, to-day, to a comfortable living, and with enough over to give our +children as good an education as the children of the bosses; and with +enough to buy a few books, see a little of the world, and to save a +little so we'll not have ahead of us the terrible fear that we and our +families may starve when we get too old to work. That's the least we +ought to have. But we lack an almighty lot of having it, Miss Arnold. + +"Take my own trade--and we're a lot better off than most workingmen--we +get three seventy-five a day. That wouldn't be so bad if we made it +three hundred days a year, but you know we don't average more than six +months' work. Less than seven hundred dollars a year. What can a man +with a family do in New York on seven hundred dollars a year? Two +hundred for rent, three hundred for food, one hundred for clothes. +There's six hundred gone in three lumps. Twenty-five cents a day left +for heat, light, education, books, amusement, travel, street-car +fare,--and to save for your old age! + +"And then our trade's dangerous. I think half of our men are killed. If +you saw the obituary list that's published monthly of all the branches +of our union in the country, you'd think so, too! Every other +name--crushed, or something broke and he fell. Only the other day on a +steel bridge near Pittsburg a piece of rigging snapped and ten men +dropped two hundred feet. They landed on steel beams in a barge anchored +below--and were pulp. And after the other names, it's pneumonia or +consumption. D'you know what that means? It means exposure at work. +Killed by their work!... Well, that's our work,--and we get seven +hundred a year! + +"And then our work takes the best part of our lives, and throws us away. +So long as we're strong and active, we can be used. But the day we +begin to get a little stiff--if we last that long!--we're out of it. It +may be at forty. We've got to learn how to do something else, or just +wait for the end. There's our families. And you know how much we've got +in the bank! + +"Well, that's how it is in our union. Is seven hundred a year +enough?--when we risk our lives every day we work?--when we're fit for +work only so long as we're young men? We're human beings, Miss Arnold. +We're men. We want comfortable homes, we want to keep our children in +school, we'd like to save something up for the time when we can't work. +Seven hundred a year! How're we going to do it, Miss Arnold? How're we +going to do it?" + +Ruth looked up at his glowing set face, and for the moment forgot she +was allied to the other side. "Demand higher wages!" her instinct +answered promptly. + +"That's the only thing! And that's what we're going to do! More money +for the time we do work!" + +He said no more. Now that the stimulant of his excited words was gone, +Ruth felt her fatigue. Engrossed by his emotions he had swung along at a +pace that had taxed her lesser stride. + +"Shall we not sit down," she suggested; and they found a bench on a +pinnacle of rock from whence they looked down through a criss-cross of +bare branches upon a sun-polished lagoon, and upon the files of people +curving along the paths. Tom removed his hat, and Ruth turning to face +him took in anew the details of his head--the strong, square, +smooth-shaven face, the broad forehead, moist and banded with pink where +his hat had pressed, the hair that clung to his head in tight brown +curls. Looked,--and felt herself growing small, and the men of her +acquaintance growing small. And thought.... Yes, that was it; it was his +purpose that made him big. + +"You have kept me so interested that I've not yet asked you about your +fight against Mr. Foley," she said, after a moment. + +Tom told her all that had been done. + +"But is there no other way of getting at the men except by seeing them +one by one?" she asked. "That seems such a laborious way of carrying on +a campaign. Can't you have mass-meetings?" + +Tom shook his head. "In the first place it would be hard to get the men +out; they're tired when they come home from work, and then a lot of them +don't want to openly identify themselves with us. And in the second +place Foley'd be likely to fill the hall with his roughs and break the +meeting up." + +"But to see the men individually! And you say there are twenty-five +hundred of them. Why, that's impossible!" + +"Yes. A lot of the men we can't find. They're out when we call." + +"Why not send a letter to every member?" asked Ruth, suggesting the plan +to her most obvious. + +"A letter?" + +"A letter that would reach them a day or two before election! A short +letter, that drove every point home!" She leaned toward him excitedly. + +"Good!" Tom brought his fist down on his knee. + +Ruth knew the money would have to come from his pocket. "Let's see. It +would cost, for stamps, twenty-five dollars; for the letters--they could +be printed--about fifteen dollars; for the envelopes six or seven +dollars. Say forty-five or fifty dollars." + +Fifty dollars was a great deal to Tom--saved little by little. But he +hesitated only a moment. "All right. If we can influence a hundred men, +one in twenty-five, it'll be worth the money." + +A thoughtful look came over his face. + +"What is it?" Ruth asked quickly. + +"I was thinking about the printing and other things. Wondering how I +could get away from work to see to it." + +"Won't you let me look after that for you?" Ruth asked eagerly. "I look +after all our printing. I can leave the office whenever I'm not busy, +you know. It would take only a few minutes of my time." + +"It really wouldn't?" Tom asked hesitantly. + +"It wouldn't be any trouble at all. And I'd be glad to do it." + +Tom thanked her. "I wouldn't know how to go about a thing of that sort, +anyhow, even if I could get away from work," he admitted. + +"And I could see to the addressing, too," Ruth pursued. + +He sat up straight. "There's the trouble! The addresses!" + +"The addresses? Why?" + +"There's only one list of the men and where they live. That's the book +of the secretary and treasurer." + +"Won't he lend it to you?" + +Tom had to laugh. "Connelly lend it to me! Connelly's one of the best +friends Foley's got." + +"Then there's no way of getting it?" + +"He keeps it in his office, and when he's not there the office is +locked. But we'll get it somehow." + +"Well, then if you'll write out the letter and send it to me in a day or +two, I'll see to having it printed right away." + +It flashed upon Tom what a strong concluding statement to the letter the +guarantee from Mr. Baxter would make. He told Ruth of his idea, of his +attempts to get the guarantee, and of the influence it would have on the +men. + +"He's probably forgotten all about it," she said. "I think I may be able +to help you to get it. I can speak to Aunt Elizabeth and have her speak +to him." + +But her quick second thought was that she could not do this without +revealing to her aunt a relation Mrs. Baxter could not understand. "No, +after all I can't be of any use there. You might try to see him again, +and if you fail then you might write him." + +Tom gave her a quick puzzled glance, as he had done a few days before +when she had mentioned her relation to Mr. Baxter. She caught the look. + +"You are wondering how it is Mr. Baxter is my uncle," she guessed. + +"Yes," he admitted. + +"It's very simple. All rich people have their poor relatives, I +suppose? Mrs. Baxter and my mother were sisters. Mr. Baxter made money. +My father died before he had a chance. After mamma died, I decided to go +to work. There was only enough money to live a shabby-genteel, pottering +life--and I was sick of that. I have no talents, and I wanted to be out +in the world, in contact with people who are doing real things. So I +learned stenography. A little over a year ago I came to New York. I +lived for awhile with my uncle and aunt; they were kind, but the part of +a poor relation didn't suit me, and I made up my mind to go to work +again. They were not pleased very well; they wanted me to stay with +them. But my mind was made up. I offered to go to work for my uncle, but +he had no place for me, and got me the position with Mr. Driscoll. And +that's all." + +A little later she asked him for the time. His watch showed a quarter of +five. On starting out she had told him that she must be home by five, so +she now remarked: "Perhaps we'd better be going. It'll take us about +fifteen minutes to walk back." + +They started homeward across the level sunbeams that were stretching +themselves out beneath barren trees and over brown lawns for their +night's sleep. As they drew near to Ruth's boarding-house they saw a +perfectly-tailored man in a high hat go up the steps. He was on the +point of ringing the bell when he sighted them, and he stood waiting +their coming. A surprised look passed over his face when he recognized +Ruth's companion. + +As they came up the steps he raised his hat to Ruth. "Good-afternoon, +Miss Arnold." And to Tom he said carelessly: "Hello, Keating." + +Tom looked him squarely in the eyes. "Hello, Berman," he returned. + +Mr. Berman started at the omission of the "Mr." Tom lifted his hat to +Ruth, bade her good-afternoon, and turned away, not understanding a +sudden pang that shot into his heart. + +Mr. Berman's eyes followed Tom for a dozen paces. "A very decent +sort--for a workingman," he remarked. + +"For any sort of a man," said Ruth, with an emphasis that surprised her. +She took out her latch-key, and they entered. + + + + +Chapter X + +LAST DAYS OF THE CAMPAIGN + + +After supper, which was eaten in the customary silence, Tom started for +the Barrys' to talk over the scheme of circularizing the members of the +union. He met Pete coming out of the Barrys' tenement. He joined him +and, as they walked away, outlined the new plan. + +"That's what I call a mighty foxy scheme," Pete approved. "It's a +knock-out blow. It'll come right at the last minute, an' Foley won't +have time to hit back." + +Tom pointed out the difficulty of getting the membership list. "You +leave that to me, Tom. It's as easy as fallin' off the twenty-third +story an' hittin' the asphalt. You can't miss it." + +"But what kind of a deal will you make with Connelly? He's crooked, you +know." + +"Yes, he has got pretty much of a bend to him," Pete admitted. "But he +ain't so worse, Tom. I've traveled a lot with him. When d'you want the +book?" + +"We've got to get it and put it back without Connelly knowing it's been +gone. We'd have to use it at night. Could you get it late, and take it +back the next morning?" + +"That'd be runnin' mighty close. What's the matter with gettin' it +Saturday night an' usin' it Sunday?" + +"Sunday's pretty late, with the election coming Wednesday. But it'll do, +I guess." + +Tom spent the evening at one corner of the dining-table from which he +had turned back the red cloth, laboriously scratching on a sheet of +ruled letter paper. He had never written when he could avoid it. His +ideas were now clear enough, but they struggled against the unaccustomed +confinement of written language. The words came slowly, with physical +effort, and only after crossing out, and interlining, and crossing out +again, were they joined into sentences. + +At ten o'clock Maggie, who had been calling on a friend, came in with +Ferdinand. The boy made straight for the couch and was instantly asleep. +Maggie was struck at once by the unwonted sight of her husband writing, +but her sulkiness fought her curiosity for more than a minute, during +which she removed her hat and jacket, before the latter could gain a +grudged victory. "What are you doing?" she asked shortly. + +"Writing a letter," he answered, keeping his eyes on the paper. + +She leaned over his shoulder and read a few lines. Her features +stiffened. "What're you going to do with that?" + +"Print it." + +"But you'll have to pay for it." + +"Yes." + +"How much?" + +"About fifty dollars." + +She gasped, and her sullen composure fled. "Fifty dollars! For +that--that----" Breath failed her. + +Tom looked around. Her black eyes were blazing. Her hands were clenched. +Her full breast was rising and falling rapidly. + +"Tom Keating, this is about the limit!" she broke out. "Hain't your +foolishness learnt you anything yet? It's cost you seven dollars a week +already. And here you are, throwing fifty dollars away all in one lump! +Fifty dollars!" Her breath failed her again. "That's like you! You'll +throw money away, and let me go without a decent rag to my back!" + +Tom arose. "Maggie," he said, in a voice that was cold and hard, "I +don't expect any sympathy from you. I don't expect you to understand +what I'm about. I don't think you want to understand. But I do expect +you to keep still, if you've got nothing better to say than you've just +said!" + +Maggie had lost herself. "Is that a threat?" she cried furiously. "Do +you mean to threaten me? Why, you brute! D'you think you can make me +keep still? You throw away money that's as much mine as yours!--you make +me suffer for it!--and yet you expect me never to say a word, do you?" + +Tom glared at her. His hands tingled to lay hold of her and shake her. +But, as he glared, he thought of the woman he had so recently left, and +a sense of shame for his desire crept upon him. And, too, he began +vaguely to feel, what it was inevitable he should some time feel, the +contrast between his wife ... and this other. + +His silence added to her frenzy. "You threaten me? What do I care for +your threats! You can't do anything worse than you already have +done,--and are doing. You're ruining us! Well, what are you standing +there for? Why----" + +There was but one thing for Tom to do, that which he had often had to do +before,--go into the street. He put the scribbled sheets into his coat, +and left her standing there in the middle of the floor pouring out her +fury. + +He walked about till he thought she would be asleep, then returned. A +glance into their bedroom showed her in bed, and Ferdinand in his cot at +the bed's foot. He sat down again at the table and resumed his clumsy +pencil. + +It was midnight before the two-hundred-word production was completed and +copied. He put it into an envelope, enclosed a note saying he expected +to have the list of names over the following Sunday, and took the letter +down and dropped it into a mail-box. Then removing shoes, coat, and +collar, he lay down on the sofa with his overcoat for covering, and +presently fell asleep. + +Ruth's heart sank when she received the letter the next afternoon. Her +yesterday's talk with him had left her with a profound impression of his +power, and that impression had been fresh all the morning. This +painfully written letter, with its stiff, hard sentences, headed "Save +the Union!" and beginning "Brothers," recalled to her with a shock +another element of his personality. It was as though his crudity had +dissociated itself from his other qualities and laid itself, bare and +unrelieved, before her eyes. + +As she read the letter a second time she felt a desire to improve upon +his sentences; but she thought this might give him offense; and she +thought also, and rightly, that his stilted sentences, rich with such +epithets, as "tyrant," "bully," "grafter," would have a stronger effect +on his readers than would more polished and controlled language. So she +carried the letter to the printer as it had left Tom's hand. + +She wrote Tom that Mr. Driscoll was willing her office should be used +for the work of Sunday. Tom's answer was on a postal card and written in +pencil. She sighed. + +The week passed rapidly with Tom, the nights in canvassing, the days in +work. Every time he went to work, he did so half expecting it would be +his last day on the job. But all went well till Friday morning. Then the +expected happened. As he came up to the fire-house a hansom cab, which +had turned into the street behind him, stopped and Foley stepped out. + +"Hold on there, Keating!" the walking delegate called. + +Tom paused, three or four paces from the cab. Foley stepped to his side. +"So this's where youse've sneaked off to work!" + +Tom kept his square jaw closed. + +"I heard youse were at work. I thought I'd look youse up to-day. So I +followed youse. Now, are youse goin' to quit this job quiet, or do I +have to get youse fired?" + +Tom answered with dangerous restraint. "I haven't got anything against +the contractor. And I know what you'd do to him to get me off. I'll go." + +"Move then, an' quick!" + +"There's one thing I want to say to you first," said Tom; and instantly +his right fist caught the walking delegate squarely on the chin. Foley +staggered back against the wheel of the hansom. Without giving him a +second look Tom turned about and walked toward the car line. + +When Foley recovered himself Tom was a score of paces away. Half a dozen +of the workmen were looking at him in waiting silence. He glared at +Tom's broad back, but made no attempt to follow. + +"To-day ain't the only day!" he said to the men, closing his eyes to +ominous slits; and he stepped back into the cab and drove away. + +That evening Tom had an answer to the letter he had written Mr. Baxter, +after having failed once more to find that gentleman in. It was of but a +single sentence. + + After giving thorough consideration to your suggestion, I have + decided that it would be neither wise nor in good taste for me to + interfere in the affairs of your union. + +Tom stared at the letter in amazement. Mr. Baxter had little to risk, +and much to gain. He could not understand. But, however obscure Mr. +Baxter's motive, the action necessitated by his decision was as clear +as a noon sun; a vital change had to be made in the letter to the +members of the union. Certain of Mr. Baxter's consent, Tom had set down +the guarantee to the men as the last paragraph in the letter and had +held the proof awaiting Mr. Baxter's formal authorization of its use. He +now cut out the paragraph that might have meant a thousand votes, and +mailed the sheet to Ruth. + +He talked wherever he could all the next day, and the next evening. +After going home he sat up till almost one o'clock expecting Pete to +come in with the roster of the members. But Pete did not appear. Early +Sunday morning Tom was over at the Barrys'. Pete was not yet up, Mrs. +Barry told him. Tom softly opened the door of Pete's narrow room and +stepped in. Pete announced himself asleep by a mighty trumpeting. Tom +shook his shoulders. He stirred, but did not open his eyes. "Doan wan' +no breakfas'," he said, and slipped back into unconsciousness. Tom shook +him again, without response. Then he threw the covers back from Pig +Iron's feet and poured a little water on them. Pete sat suddenly +upright; there was a meteoric shower of language; then he recognized +Tom. + +"Hello, Tom! What sort of a damned society call d'you call this?" + +"If you only worked as hard as you sleep, Pete, you could put up a +building alone," said Tom, exasperated. "D'you get the book?" + +"Over there." Pete pointed to a package lying on the floor. + +Tom picked it up eagerly, sat down on the edge of the bed--Pete's +clothes were sprawling over the only chair--and hastily opened it. +Within the wrapping paper was the secretary's book. + +"How'd you get it, Pete?" + +"The amount o' licker I turned into spittoons last night, Tom, was +certainly an immoral waste. If I'd put it where it belonged, I'd be +drunk for life. Connelly, he'll never come to. Now, s'pose you chase +along, Tom, an' let me finish things up with my bed." + +"What time d'you want the book again?" + +"By nine to-night." + +"Will you have any trouble putting it back in the office?" + +"Sure not. While I had Connelly's keys I made myself one to his office. +I took a blank and a file with me last night." + +At ten o'clock, the hour agreed upon, Tom was in Ruth's office. Ruth and +a business-looking woman of middle age, who was introduced as a Mrs. +Somebody, were already there when he came. Five boxes of envelopes were +stacked on a table, which had been drawn to the center of the room, the +letters were on a smaller table against one wall, and sheets of stamps +were on the top of Ruth's desk. + +Tom was appalled when he saw what a quantity twenty-five hundred +envelopes were. "What! We can't write names on all those to-day!" + +"It'll take the two of us about seven hours with you reading the names +to us," Ruth reassured him. "I had the letters come folded from the +printers. We'll put them in the envelopes and put on the stamps +to-morrow. They'll all be ready for the mail Monday night." + +Until five o'clock, with half an hour off for lunch, the two women wrote +rapidly, Tom, on the opposite side of the table, reading the names to +them alternately and omitting the names of the adherents of Foley. + +Now that she was with him again Ruth soon forgot all about Tom's +crudity. His purposeful power, which projected itself through even so +commonplace an occupation as reading off addresses, rapidly remade its +first impression. It dwarfed his crudity to insignificance. + +When he left her at her door she gave him her hand with frank +cordiality. "You'll come Thursday evening then to tell me all about it +as you promised. When I see you then I'm sure it will be to congratulate +you." + + + + +Chapter XI + +IN FOLEY'S "OFFICE" + + +Buck Foley's greatest weakness was the consciousness of his strength. +Two years before he would have been a much more formidable opponent, for +then he was alert for every possible danger and would have put forth his +full of strength and wits to overwhelm an aspiring usurper. Now he was +like the ring champion of several years' standing who has become too +self-confident to train. + +Foley felt such security that he made light of the first reports of +Tom's campaigning brought him by his intimates. "He can't touch me," he +said confidently. "After he rubs sole leather on asphalt a few more +weeks, he'll be so tame he'll eat out o' my hand." + +It was not till the meeting at which Tom's ticket was presented that +Foley awoke to the possibility of danger. He saw that Tom was +tremendously in earnest, that he was working hard, that he was gaining +strength among the men. If Tom were to succeed in getting out the +goody-goody element, or even a quarter of it----Foley saw the menacing +possibility. + +Connelly hurried up to him at the close of the meeting. "Say, Buck, +this here looks serious!" he whispered. "A lot o' the fellows are +gettin' scared." + +"What's serious?" + +"Keating's game." + +"I'd forgotten that. I keep forgettin' little things. Well, s'pose youse +get the bunch to drop in at Mulligan's." + +Half an hour later Foley, who knew the value of coming late, sauntered +into the back room of Mulligan's saloon, which drinking-place was +distant two blocks from Potomac Hall. This back room was commonly known +as "Buck's Office," for here he met and issued orders to his +lieutenants. It was a square room with a dozen chairs, three tables, +several pictures of prize fighters and several nudes of the brewers' +school of art. Connelly, Jake Henderson, and six other men sat at the +tables, beer glasses before them, talking with deep seriousness. + +Foley paused in the doorway. "Hello, youse coffin-faces! None o' this +for mine!" He started out. + +"Hold on, Buck!" Connelly cried, starting up. + +Foley turned back. "Take that crape off your mugs, then!" + +"We were talkin' about Keating," Connelly explained. "It strikes us he +means business." + +It was a principle in Foley's theory of government not to ask help of +his lieutenants in important affairs except when it was necessary; it +fed his love of power to feel them dependent upon his action. But it was +also a principle that they should feel an absolute confidence in him. He +now saw dubiety on every face; an hour's work was marked out. He sat +down, threw open his overcoat, put one foot on a table and tipped back +in his chair. "Yes, I s'pose Keating thinks he does mean business." + +With his eyes fixed carelessly on the men he drew from a vest pocket a +tight roll of bills, with 100 showing at either end, and struck a match; +and moved the roll, held cigar-wise between the first and second fingers +of his left hand, and the match toward his mouth. With a cry Connelly +sprang forward and seized his wrist. + +"Now what the hell----" Foley began, exasperatedly. His eyes fell to his +hand, and he grinned. "Well! Now I wonder where that cigar is." He went +one by one through the pockets of his vest. "Well, I reckon I'll have to +buy another. Jake, ask one o' the salesladies to fetch in some cabbage." + +Jake Henderson stepped to the door and called for cigars. Mulligan +himself responded, bearing three boxes which he set down before Foley. +"Five, ten and fifteen," he said, pointing in turn at the boxes. + +Foley picked up the cheapest box and snuffed at its contents. "These the +worst youse got?" + +"Got some two-fers." + +"Um! Make youse think youse was mendin' the asphalt, I s'pose. I guess +these's bad enough. Help youselves, boys." But it was the fifteen-cent +box he started around. + +The men took one each, and the box came back to Foley. "Hain't youse +fellows got no vest pockets?" he demanded, and started the box around +again. + +When the box had completed its second circuit Mulligan took it and the +two others and started out. "Hold on, Barney," said Foley. "What's the +matter with your beer?" + +"My beer?" + +"Been beggin' the boys to have some more, but they don't want it." + +"My beer's----" + +"Hi, Barney! Don't youse see he's shootin' hot air into youse?" cried +Jake delightedly. "Chase in the beer!" + +"No, youse don't have to drink nothin' youse don't like. Bring in some +champagne, Barney. I'm doin' a scientific stunt. I want to see what +champagne does to a roughneck." + +"How much?" asked Mulligan. + +"Oh, about a barrel." He drew from his trousers pocket a mixture of +crumpled bills, loose silver, and keys. From this he untangled a +twenty-dollar bill and handed it to Mulligan. + +"Fetch back what youse don't want. An' don't move like your feet was +roots, neither." + +Two minutes later Mulligan returned with four quart bottles. Immediately +behind him came a girl in the dress of the Salvation Army. "Won't you +help us in our work?" she said, holding her tin box out to Foley. + +"Take what youse want." He pointed with his cigar to the change Mulligan +had just laid upon the table. + +With hesitation she picked up a quarter. "This much?" she asked, smiling +doubtfully. + +"No wonder youse're poor!" He swept all the change into his palm. +"Here!" and he thrust it into her astonished hands. + +After she had stammered out her thanks and departed, Foley began to fill +the glasses from a bottle Mulligan had opened. Jake, moistening his +lips, put out his hand in mock refusal. + +"Only a drop for me, Buck." + +Foley filled Jake's glass to the brim. "Well, there's several. Pick your +choice." + +He filled the other glasses, then lifted his own with a "Here's how!" +They all raised the fragile goblets clumsily and emptied them at a gulp. +"Now put about twenty dollars' worth o' grin on your faces," Foley +requested. + +"But what about Keating?" asked Connelly anxiously, harking back to the +first subject. "He's startin' a mighty hot fight. An' really, Buck, he's +a strong man." + +"Yes, I reckon he is." Foley put one hand to his mouth and yawned +mightily behind it. "But he's sorter like a big friend o' mine who went +out to cut ice in July. His judgment ain't good." + +"Of course, he ain't got no chance." + +"The same my friend had o' fillin' his ice-house." + +"But it strikes me we ought to be gettin' busy," Connelly persisted. + +"See here, Connelly. Just because I ain't got a couple o' niggers +humpin' to keep the sweat wiped off me, youse needn't think I'm +loafin'," Foley returned calmly. + +The others, who had shared Connelly's anxiety, were plainly affected by +Foley's large manner. + +"Youse can just bet Buck'll be there with the goods when the time +comes," Jake declared confidently. + +"That's no lie," agreed the others. + +"Oh, I ain't doubtin' Buck. Never a once!" said Connelly. "But what's +your plans, Buck?" + +Foley gazed mysteriously over their heads, and slowly blew out a cloud +of smoke. "Youse just keep your two eyes lookin' my way." + +Foley knew the value of coming late. He also knew the value of leaving +as soon as your point is made. His quick eyes now saw that he had +restored the company's confidence; they knew he was prepared for every +event. + +"I guess I'll pull out," he said, standing up. "Champagne ain't never +been the same to me since me an' Morgan went off in his yacht, an' the +water give out, an' we had to wash our shirts in it." He looked through +the door into the bar-room. "Say, Barney, if these roughnecks want +anything more, just put it down to me." He turned back to the men. +"So-long, boys," he said, with a wave of his hand, and went out through +the bar-room. + +"The man that beats Buck Foley's got to beat five aces," declared Jake +admiringly. + +"Yes," agreed Connelly. "An' he don't keep a strangle holt on his money, +neither." + +Which two sentiments were variously expressed again and again before the +bottoms of the bottles were reached. + +If Foley was slow in getting started, he was not slow to act now that he +was started. During the following two weeks any contractor that so +wished could have worked non-union men on his jobs for all the trouble +Foley would have given him. Buck had more important affairs than the +union's affairs. + +Foley's method of electioneering was even more simple than Tom's. He saw +the foreman on every important job in the city. To such as were his +friends he said: + +"Any o' that Keating nonsense bein' talked on this job?" If there was +not: "Well, it's up to youse to see that things stay that way." If there +was: "Shut it up. If any o' the men talk too loud, fire 'em. If youse +ain't got that authority, find somethin' wrong with their work an' get +'em fired. It's your business to see that not a man on your job votes +again' me!" + +To such few as he did not count among his friends he said: + +"Youse know enough to know I'm goin' to win. Youse know what's the wise +thing for youse to do, all right. I like my friends, an' I don't like +the men that fight me. I ain't likely to go much out o' my way to help +Keating an' his push. I think that's enough, ain't it?" + +It was--especially since it was said with a cold look straight into the +other's eyes. An hour's speech could not have been more effective. + +Foley made it his practice to see as many of the doubtful workmen as +possible during their lunch hour. He had neither hope nor desire that +they should come out and vote for him. His wish was merely that they +should not come out and vote for Tom. To them his speech was mainly +obvious threats. And he called upon the rank and file of his followers +to help him in this detail of his campaign. "Just tell 'em youse think +they won't enjoy the meetin' very much," was his instruction, given with +a grim smile; and this opinion, with effective elaboration, his +followers faithfully delivered. + +When Foley dropped into his office on the Tuesday night before election +he found Jake, Connelly and the other members of his cabinet anxiously +awaiting him. Connelly thrust a copy of Tom's letter into his hands. +"Now wha' d'you think o' that?" he demanded. "Blamed nigh every man in +the union got one to-night." + +As Foley read the blood crept into his face. "'Bully,' 'blood-suckin' +grafter', 'trade union pirate', 'come out and make him walk the plank'," +Jake quoted appreciatively, watching Foley's face. + +By the time he reached the end Foley had regained his self-control. +"Well, that's a purty nice piece o' writin', ain't it, now?" he said, +looking at the sheet admiringly. "Didn't know Keating was buttin' into +literchure. Encouragin', ain't it, to see authors springin' up in every +walk o' life. This here'll get Keating the votes o' all the lit'ry +members, sure." + +"It'll get him too many!" growled Connelly anxiously. + +"A-a-h, go count yourself, Connelly!" Foley looked at the secretary with +a pity that was akin to disgust. "Youse give me an unpleasant feelin' in +my abdomen!" + +He pushed the letter carelessly across to Connelly. "O' course it'll +bring the boys out," he said, in his previous pleasant voice. "But the +trouble with Keating is, he believes in the restriction o' output. He +believes a man oughtn't to cast more'n one vote a day." + +But Foley, for all his careless jocularity, was aware of the seriousness +of Tom's last move, and till long after midnight the cabinet was in +session--to the great profit of Barney Mulligan's cash register. + + + + +Chapter XII + +THE ELECTION + + +Tom set out for Potomac Hall Wednesday evening with the emotions of a +gambler who had placed his fortune on a single color; his all was risked +on the event of that night. However, he had a bracing confidence running +through his agitation; he felt that he controlled the arrow of fortune. +The man to man canvass; the feminine influence made operative by Mrs. +Barry; the letters with which Ruth had helped him,--these, he was +certain, had drawn the arrow's head to the spot where rested his stake +and the union's. + +Tom reached the hall at six-thirty. The polls did not open till seven, +but already thirty or forty of Foley's men stood in knots in front of +the building. + +"Hello, boys! Now don't he think he's It!" said one admiringly. + +"Poor Buck! This's the last o' him!" groaned another. + +There was a burst of derisive laughter, and each of the party tossed a +bit of language in his way; but Tom made no answer and passed them +unflinchingly. At the doorway he was stopped by the policeman who was +regularly stationed at Potomac Hall on meeting nights. + +"Goin' to have a fist sociable to-night?" the policeman asked, +anxiously watching the men in the street. + +"Can't say, Murphy. Ask Foley. He'll be floor manager, if there is one." + +As he went through the hallway toward the stairs, Tom paused to glance +through a side door into the big bar-room, which, with a café, occupied +the whole of the first floor. A couple of score of Foley men stood at +the bar and sat about the tables. It certainly did look as if there +might be festivities. + +Tom mounted the broad stairway and knocked at the door of the union's +hall. Hogan, the sergeant-at-arms, a Foley man, gingerly admitted him. +The hall in which he found himself was a big rectangular room, perhaps +fifty by one hundred feet. The walls had once been maroon in color, and +had a broad moulding of plaster that had been white and gilt; the +ceiling had likewise once been maroon, and was decorated with +plaster scroll-work and crudely painted clusters of fruits and +flowers--scroll-work and paintings lacking their one-time freshness. +From the center of the ceiling hung a great ball of paper roses; at the +front of the room was a grand piano in a faded green cover. The sign +advertising the hall, nailed on the building's front, had as its last +clause: "Also available for weddings, receptions, and balls." + +Tom's glance swept the room. All was in readiness for the election. The +floor was cleared of its folding chairs, they being now stacked at the +rear of the room; down the hall's middle ran a row of tables, set end to +end, with chairs on either side; Bill Jackson, one of his supporters, +was at Hogan's elbow, ready to hand out the ballots as the men were +admitted; the five tellers--Barry, Pete, Jake and two other Foley +men--were smoking at the front of the room, Jake lolling on the piano, +and the other four on the platform where the officers sat at the regular +meetings. + +Tom joined Pete and Barry, and the three drew to one side to await the +opening of the door. "Anything new?" Tom asked. + +"Nothin'," answered Pete. "But say, Tom, that letter was certainly hot +stuff! I've heard some o' the boys talkin' about it. They think it's +great. It's bringin' a lot o' them out." + +"That's good." + +"An' we're goin' to win, sure." + +Tom nodded. "If Foley don't work some of his tricks." + +"Oh, we'll look out for that," said Pete confidently. + +Promptly at seven o'clock Hogan unlocked the door. The men began to +mount the stairway. As each man came to the door Hogan examined his +membership card, and, if it showed the holder to be in good standing, +admitted him. Jackson then handed him a ballot, on which the names of +all the candidates were printed in a vertical row, and he walked to one +of the tables and made crosses before the names of the men for whom he +desired to vote. + +Five minutes after the door had been opened there were thirty or forty +men in the room, an equal number of each party, Foley among them. Jake, +who was chief teller, rose at the center table on the platform to +discharge the formality of offering the ballot-box for inspection. He +unlocked the box, which was about twelve inches square, and performing a +slow arc presented the open side to the eyes of the tellers and the +waiting members. The box was empty. + +"All right?" he asked. + +"Sure," said the men carelessly. The tellers nodded. + +Foley began the telling of a yarn, and was straightway the center of the +group of voters. In the meantime Jake locked the box and started to +carry it to its appointed place on a table at one end of the platform, +to reach which he had to pass through the narrow space between the wall +and the chair-backs of the other tellers. As he brushed through this +alley, Tom, whose eyes had not left him, saw the ballot-box turn so that +its slot was toward the wall, and glimpsed a quick motion of Jake's hand +from a pocket toward the slot--a motion wholly of the wrist. He sprang +after the chief teller and seized his hand. + +"You don't work that game!" he cried. + +Foley's story snapped off. His hearers pivoted to face the disturbance. + +Jake turned about. "What game?" + +"Open your hand!" Tom demanded. + +Jake elevated his big fist, then opened it. It held nothing. He laughed +derisively, and set the box down in its place. A jeering shout rose from +Foley's crowd. + +For an instant Tom was taken aback. Then he stepped quickly to the +table and gave the box a light shake. He triumphantly raised it on high +and shook it violently. From it there came an unmistakable rattle. + +"This's how Foley'd win!" he cried to the crowd. + +Jake, his derision suddenly changed to fury, would have struck Tom in +another instant, for all his wits were in his fists; but the incisive +voice of Foley sounded out: "A clever trick, Keating." + +"How's that?" asked several men. + +"A trick to cast suspicion on us," Foley answered quietly. "Keating put +'em in there himself." + +Tom stared at him, then turned sharply upon Jake. "Give me the key. I'll +show who those ballots are for." + +Jake, not understanding, but taking his cue from Foley, handed over the +key. Tom unlocked the box, and took out a handful of tightly-folded +ballots. He opened several of them and held them up to the crowd. The +crosses were before the Foley candidates. + +"Of course I put 'em in!" Tom said sarcastically, looking squarely at +Foley. + +"O' course youse did," Foley returned calmly. "To cast suspicion on us. +It's a clever trick, but it's what I call dirty politics." + +Tom made no reply. His eyes had caught a slight bulge in the pocket of +Jake's coat from which he had before seen Jake's hand emerge +ballot-laden. He lunged suddenly toward the chief teller, and thrust a +hand into the pocket. There was a struggle of an instant; the crowd saw +Tom's hand come out of the pocket filled with packets of paper; then +Tom broke loose. It all happened so quickly that the crowd had no time +to move. The tellers rose just in time to lay hands upon Jake, who was +hurling himself upon Tom in animal fury. + +Tom held the ballots out toward Foley. They were bound in packets half +an inch thick by narrow bands of papers which were obviously to be +snapped as the packet was thrust into the slot of the box. "I suppose +you'll say now, Buck Foley, that I put these in Henderson's pocket!" + +For once Foley was at a loss. Part of the crowd cursed and hissed him. +His own men looked at him expectantly, but the trickery was too apparent +for his wits to be of avail. He glared straight ahead, rolling his cigar +from side to side of his mouth. + +Tom tossed the ballots into the open box. "Enough votes there already to +elect Foley. Now I demand another teller instead of that man." He jerked +his head contemptuously toward Jake. + +Foley's composure was with him again. "Anything to please youse, Tom. I +guess nobody's got a kick again' Connelly. Connelly, youse take Jake's +place." + +As the exchange was being made the Foleyites regarded their leader +dubiously; not out of disapproval of his trickery, but because his +attempted jugglery had failed. Foley had recourse again to his +confidence-compelling glance--eyes narrowed and full of mystery. "It's +only seven-thirty, boys!" he said in an impressive whisper, and turned +and went out. Jake glowered at Tom and followed him. + +Tom transferred the ballots from the box to his pockets, locked the box, +turned over the key to the tellers, and was resuming his seat when he +saw a man of disordered dress at the edge of the platform, who had been +anxiously awaiting the end of this episode, beckoning him. Tom quickly +stepped to his side. "What's the matter?" + +"Hell's broke loose downstairs, Tom," said the man. "Come down." + +"Look out for any more tricks," Tom called to Pete, and hurried out. The +stairway was held from top to bottom by a line of Foley men. Foley +supporters were marching up, trading rough jests with these guardsmen; +but not a single man of his was on the stairs. He saw one of his men +start up, and receive a shove in the chest that sent him upon his back. +A laugh rose from the line. Tom's fists knotted and his eyes filled with +fire. The head guardsman tried to seize him, and got one of the fists in +the face. + +"Look out, you----!" He swore mightily at the line, and plunged downward +past the guards, who were held back by a momentary awe. The man below +rose to his feet, hotly charged, and was sent staggering again. Tom, +descending, caught the assailant by the collar, and with a powerful jerk +sent him sprawling upon the floor. He turned fiercely upon the line. But +before he could even speak, half of it charged down upon him, overbore +him and swept him through the open door into the street. Then they +melted away from him and returned to their posts. + +Tom, bruised and dazed, would have followed the men back through the +doorway, but his eyes came upon a new scene. On his either hand in the +street, which was weakly illumined by windows and corner lights, several +scuffles were going on, six or seven in each; groups of Foley men were +blocking the way of his supporters, and blows and high words were +passing; farther away he could dimly see his men standing about in +hesitant knots--having not the reckless courage to attempt passage +through such a rowdy sea. + +The policeman was trying to quell one of the scuffles with his club. Tom +saw it twisted from his hand. Murphy drew his revolver. The club sent it +spinning. He turned and walked quickly out of the street. + +All this Tom saw in two glances. The man beside him swore. "Send for the +police, Tom. Nothing else'll save us." His voice barely rose above the +cries and oaths. + +"It won't do, Smith. We'd never hear the last of it." + +And yet Tom realized, with instant quickness, the hopelessness of the +situation. Against Foley's organized ruffianism, holding hall and +street, his unorganized supporters, standing on the outskirts, could do +nothing. There was but one thing to be done--to get to his men, organize +them in some way, wait till their number had grown, and then march in a +body to the ballot-box. + +Ten seconds after his discharge into the street Tom was springing away +on this errand, when out of the tail of his eye he saw Foley come to the +door and glance about. He wheeled and strode up to the walking +delegate. + +"Is this your only way of winning an election?" he cried hotly. + +"Well! well! They're mixin' it up a bit, ain't they," Foley drawled, +looking over Tom's head. "That's too bad!" + +"Don't try any of your stage business on me! Stop this fighting!" + +"What could I do?" Foley asked deprecatingly. "If I tried, I'd only get +my nut cracked." And he turned back into the hall. + +"Come on!" Tom cried to Smith; and together they plunged eastward, in +which direction were the largest number of Tom's friends. Before they +had gone a dozen paces they were engulfed in the fray. Several of his +men swept in from the outskirts to his support; more Foley men rushed +into the conflict; the fight that had before been waged in skirmishes +was now a general engagement. For a space that seemed an hour to Tom, +but that in reality was no more than its quarter, it was struggle at the +top of his strength. He warded off blows. He stung under fists. He +struck out at dim faces. He swayed fiercely in grappling arms. He sent +men down. He went down again and again himself. And oaths were gasped +and shouted, and deep-lunged cries battered riotously against the +street's high walls.... And so it was all around him--a writhing, +striking, kicking, swearing whirlpool of men, over whose fierce +turbulence fell the dusky light of bar-room and tenement windows. + +After a time, when his breath was coming in gasps, and his strength was +well-nigh gone, he saw the vindictive face of Jake Henderson, with the +bar-room's light across it, draw nearer and nearer through the +struggling mob. If Jake should reach him, spent as he was----He saw his +limp, outstretched body as in a vision. + +But Jake's vengeance did not then fall. Tom heard a cry go up and run +through the crowd: "Police! Police!" In an instant the whirlpool half +calmed. The cry brought to their feet the two men who had last borne him +down. Tom scrambled up, saw the mob untangle itself into individuals, +and saw, turning the corner, a squad of policemen, clubs drawn, Murphy +marching at the captain's side. + +The captain drew his squad up beside the doorway of the hall, and +himself mounted the two steps. "If there's any more o' this rough house, +I'll run in every one o' you!" he shouted, shaking his club at the men. + +The Foleyites laughed, and defiance buzzed among them, but they knew the +better part of valor. It was a Foley principle to observe the law when +the law is observing you. + +Five minutes later the captain's threat was made even more potent for +order by the appearance of the reserves from another precinct; and in a +little while still another squad leaped from clanging patrol wagons, +making in all fifty policemen that had answered Murphy's call. Twenty of +these were posted in the stairway, and the rest were placed on guard in +the street. + +A new order came from the bar-room, and Foley's men withdrew to beyond +the limits of police influence and intercepted the men coming to vote, +using blandishment and threats, and leading some into the bar-room to be +further convinced. + +Tom, who stood outside watching the restoration of order, now started +back to the hall. On the way he glanced through the side door into the +bar-room. It was heavy with smoke, and at the bar was a crowd, with +Foley as its center. "I don't know what youse think about Keating +callin' in the police," he was saying, "but youse can bet I know what +Buck Foley thinks! A man that'll turn the police on his own union!" And +then as a fresh group of men were led into the room: "Step right up to +the counter, boys, an' have your measure taken for a drink. I've bought +out the place, an' am givin' it away. Me an' Carnegie's tryin' to die +poor." + +Tom mounted to the hall with a secret satisfaction in the protection of +the broad-chested bluecoats that now held the stairway. A fusillade of +remarks from the men marking their ballots greeted his entrance, but he +passed up to the platform without making answers. + +Pete's mouth fell agape at sight of him. "Hello! You look like you been +ticklin' a grizzly under the chin!" + +Tom noted the relishing grins of the Foley tellers. "The trouble +downstairs is all over. I'll tell you all about it after awhile," he +said shortly; and sat down just behind Pete to watch the voting. + +Up to this time the balloting had been light. But now the hall began to +fill, and the voting proceeded rapidly--and orderly, too, thanks to the +policemen on stairway and in street. Tom, his clothes "lookin' like he +tried to take 'em off without unbuttonin'," as a Foley teller whispered, +his battered hat down over his eyes, sat tilted against the wall +scanning every man that filed past the box. As man after man had his +membership card stamped "voted," and dropped in his ballot, Tom's +excitement rose, for he recognized the majority of the men that marched +by as of his following. + +At nine o'clock Pete leaned far back in his chair. "Lookin' great, ain't +it?" he whispered. + +"If it only keeps up like this." That it might not was Tom's great fear +now. + +"Oh, it will, don't you worry." + +The line of voters that marched by, and by, bore out Pete's prediction, +as Tom's counting eyes saw. He had the wild exultation and throbbing +weakness of the man who is on the verge of success. But the possibility +of failure, the cause of his weakness, became less and less as time +ticked on and the votes dropped into the ballot box. His enthusiasm +grew. Dozens of plans flashed through his head. But his eyes never left +that string of men who were deciding his fate and that of the union. + +At half past ten Tom was certain of his election. Pete leaned back and +gripped his hand. "It's a cinch, Tom. It's a shame to take the money," +he whispered. + +Tom acquiesced in Pete's conviction with a jerk of his head, and watched +the passing line, now grown thin and slow, drop in their ballots, his +certainty growing doubly sure. + +Fifteen minutes later Foley entered the hall, whispered a moment with +Hogan at the door, a moment with Connelly, and then went out again. Tom +thought he saw anxiety showing through Foley's ease of manner, and to +him it was an advance taste of triumph. + +Tom wished eleven o'clock had come and the door was locked. The minutes +passed with such exhausting slowness. A straggling voter dropped in his +ballot--and another straggler--and another. Tom looked at his watch. Two +minutes had passed since Foley's visit. Another straggling voter. And +then four men appeared in a body at the hall door, all apparently the +worse for Foley's hospitality. Tom saw the foremost present his card. +Hogan glanced at it, and handed it back. "You can't vote that card; it's +expired," Tom heard him say. + +"What's that?" demanded the man, threateningly. + +"The card's expired, I said! You can't vote it! Get out!" + +"I can't vote it, hey!" There was an oath, a blow--a surprisingly light +blow to produce such an effect, so it seemed to Tom--and Hogan staggered +back and went to the floor. There was a scuffle; the tables on which lay +the ballots toppled over, and the ballots went fluttering. By this time +Tom reached the door, policemen had rushed in and settled the scuffle, +and the four men were being led from the room. + +Hogan was unhurt, but Jackson was so dazed from a blow that Tom had to +put another man in his place. + +The minutes moved toward eleven with slow, ticking steps. Two stragglers +... at long intervals. At a few minutes before eleven the exhausting +monotony was enlivened by the entrance of eight men, singing +boisterously and jostling each other in alcoholic jollity. They marked +their ballots and staggered in a group to the ballot-box. Two tried to +deposit their ballots at once. + +"Leave me alone, will youse!" cried one, with an oath, and struck at the +other. + +The ballot-box slipped across to the edge of the table. Connelly, who +sat just behind the box, made no move for its safety. "Hey, stop that!" +cried Pete and sprang across to seize it. But he was too late. The one +blow struck, the eight were all instantly delivering blows, and pushing +and swearing. The box was knocked forward upon the floor, and the eight +sprawled pell-mell upon it. + +Tom and the tellers sprang from behind the tables upon the scuffling +heap, and several policemen rushed in from the hallway. The men, once +dragged apart, subsided and gave no trouble. They were allowed to drop +their ballots in the box, now back in its place on the table, and were +then led out in quietness by the officers. + +Pete turned about, struck with a sudden fear. "I wonder if that was a +trick?" he whispered. + +Tom's face was pale. The same fear had come to him. "I wonder!" + +In another five minutes the door was locked and the tellers were +counting the ballots. Among the first hundred there were perhaps a score +that bore no mark except a cross before Foley's name. Pete looked again +at Tom. With both fear had been replaced by certainty. + +"The box's been stuffed!" Pete whispered. + +Tom nodded. + +His only hope now was that not enough false ballots had been got into +the box to carry the election. But as the count proceeded, this hope +left him. And the end was equal to his worst fears. The count stood: for +walking delegate, Foley 976, Keating 763; for president, Keating 763, +Foley's man 595; all the other Foley candidates won by a slight margin. +The apparent inconsistencies of this count Tom readily understood even +in the first wild minutes. Foley's running ahead of his ticket was to be +explained on the ground that the brief time permitted of a cross being +put before his name alone on the false ballots; his own election to the +unimportant presidency, and the failure of his other candidates, was +evidently caused by several of his followers splitting their tickets and +voting for the minor Foley candidates. + +As the count had proceeded Tom had exploded more than once, and Pete had +made lurid use of his gift. When Connelly read off the final results Tom +exploded again. + +"It's an infernal steal!" he shouted. + +"Even if it is, what can we do?" returned Connelly. + +Words ran high. But Tom quickly saw the uselessness of protests and +accusations at this time. His great desire now was to take his heat and +disappointment out into the street; and so he gave evasive answers to +Pete and Barry, who wanted to talk it over, and made his way out of the +hall alone. + +Cheers and laughter were ascending from the bar-room. As he was half-way +down the stairs the door of the saloon opened, and Foley came out and +started up, followed by a number of men. Among them Tom saw several of +the drunken group that had upset the ballot-box; and he also saw that +they probably had not been more sober in years. + +"Why, hello, Tom!" Foley cried out on sight of him. "D'youse hear the +election returns?" + +Tom looked hard at Foley's face with its leering geniality, and he was +almost overmastered by a desire to hurl himself upon Foley and +annihilate him. "You infernal thief!" he burst out. + +Foley sidled toward him across the broad step. "I'll pass that by. I can +afford to, for youse're about wiped out. I guess youse've had enough." + +"Enough?" cried Tom. "I've just begun!" + +With that he brushed by Foley and passed through the door out into the +street. + + + + +Chapter XIII + +THE DAY AFTER + + +The distance to Tom's home was half a hundred blocks, but he chose to +walk. Anger, disappointment, and underlying these the hopeless sense of +being barred from his trade, all demanded the sympathy of physical +exertion--and, too, there was the inevitable meeting with his wife. +Walking would give him an hour before that. + +It was after one when he opened the hall door and stepped into his flat. +Through the dining-room he could see the gas in the sitting-room was +turned down to a point, and could see Maggie lying on the couch, a +flowered comforter drawn over her. He guessed she had stayed up to wait +for his report. He listened. In the night's dead stillness he could +faintly hear her breath come deep and regular. Seizing at the chance of +postponing the scene, he cautiously closed the hall door, and, sitting +down on a chair beside it, removed his shoes. He crossed on tiptoe +toward their bedroom, but its door betrayed him by a creak. He turned +quickly about. There was Maggie, propped up on one arm, the comforter +thrown back. + +She looked at him for a space without speaking. Through all his other +feelings Tom had a sense that he made anything but a brave figure, +standing in his stocking feet, his shoes in one hand, hat and overcoat +on. + +"Well?" she demanded at length. + +Tom returned her fixed gaze, and made no reply to her all-inclusive +query. + +Her hands gripped her covering. She gave a gasp. Then she threw back the +comforter and slipped to her feet. + +"I understand!" she said. "Everything! I knew it! O-o-h!" There were +more resentment and recrimination packed into that prolonged "oh" than +she could have put into an hour's upbraiding. + +Tom kept himself in hand. He knew the futility of explanation, but he +explained. "I won, fairly. But Foley robbed me. He stuffed the +ballot-box." + +"It makes no difference how you lost! You lost! That's what I've got to +face. You know I didn't want you to go into this. I knew you couldn't +win. I knew Foley was full of tricks. But you went in. You lost wages. +You threw away money--_our_ money! And what have you got to show for it +all?" + +Tom let her words pass in silence. On his long walk he had made up his +mind to bear her fury quietly. + +"Oh, you!" she cried through clenched teeth, stamping a bare foot on the +floor. "You do what you please, and I suffer for it. You wouldn't take +my advice. And now you're out of a job and can't get one in your trade. +How are we to live? Tell me that, Tom Keating? How are we to live?" + +Only the word he had passed with himself enabled Tom to hold himself in +after this outburst. "I'll find work." + +"Find work! A hod-carrier! Oh, my God!" + +She turned and flung herself at full length upon the couch, and lay +there sobbing, her hands passionately gripping the comforter. + +Tom silently watched the workings of her passion for a moment. He +realized the measure of right on her side, and his sense of justice made +his spirit unbend. "If we have to live close, it'll only be for a time," +he said. + +"Oh, my God!" she moaned. + +He grimly turned and went into the bedroom. After a while he came out +again. She had drawn the comforter over her, but her irregular breathing +told him she was still awake. + +"Aren't you coming to bed?" he asked. + +She made no answer, and he went back. For half an hour he tossed about. +Then he came into the sitting-room again. Her breath was coming quietly +and regularly. He sat down and gazed at her handsome face for a long, +long time, with misty, wondering thoughts. Then he rose with a +deep-drawn sigh, took part of the covering from the bed, and spread it +over her sleeping figure. + +He tossed about long before he fell into a restless sleep. It was early +when he awoke. He looked into the sitting-room. Maggie was still +sleeping. He quickly dressed himself in his best suit (the one he had +had on the night before was beyond further wearing), noting with +surprise that his face bore few marks of conflict, and stole quietly +out. + +Tom's disappointment and anger were too fresh to allow him to put his +mind upon plans for the future. All day he wandered aimlessly about, +talking over the events of the previous night with such of his friends +as chance put in his path. Late in the afternoon he met Pete and Barry, +who had been looking for work since morning. They sat down in a saloon +and talked about the election till dinner time. It was decided that Tom +should protest the election and appeal to the union--a move they all +agreed had little promise. Tom found a soothing gratification in Pete's +verbal handling of the affair; there was an ease, a broadness, a +completeness, to Pete's profanity that left nothing to be desired; so +that Tom was prompted to remark, with a half smile: "If there was a +professorship of your kind of English over at Columbia University, Pete, +you'd never have to put on overalls again." + +Tom had breakfasted in a restaurant, and lunched in a restaurant, and +after Pete and Barry left he had dinner in one. It was a cheap and +meager meal; with his uncertain future he felt it wise to begin to count +every cent. Afterwards he walked about the streets till eight, bringing +up at Ruth's boarding-house. The colored maid who answered his ring +brought back the message: "Miss Arnold says will you please come up." + +He mounted the stairway behind the maid. Ruth was standing at the head +of the stairs awaiting him. + +She wore a loose white gown, held in at the waist by a red girdle, and +there was a knot of red in her heavy dark hair. Tom felt himself go warm +at sight of her, and there began a throbbing that beat even in his ears. + +"You don't mind my receiving you in my room, do you?" she said, opening +her door, after she had greeted him. + +"Why, no," said Tom, slightly puzzled. His acquaintance with the +proprieties was so slight that he did not know she was then breaking +one. + +She closed the door. "I'm glad to see you. I know what happened last +night; we heard at the office." She held out her hand again. The grip +was warm and full of sympathy. + +The hand sent a thrill through Tom. In his fresh disappointment it was +just this intelligent sympathy that he was hungry for. For a moment he +was unable to speak or move. + +She gently withdrew her hand. "But we heard only the bare fact. I want +you to tell me the whole story." + +Tom laid his hat and overcoat upon the couch, which had a dull green +cover, glancing, as he did so, about the room. There were a few prints +of good pictures on the walls; a small case of books; a writing desk; +and in one corner a large screen whose dominant color was a dull green. +The thing that struck him most was the absence of the knick-knackery +with which his home was decorated. Tom was not accustomed to give +attention to his surroundings, but the room pleased him; and yet it was +only an ordinary boarding-house room, plus the good taste of a tasteful +woman. + +Tom took one of the two easy chairs in the room, and once again went +over the happenings of the previous night. She interrupted again and +again with indignant exclamations. + +"Why, you didn't lose at all!" she cried, when he had finished the +episode of the eight drunken men. + +"You won, and it was stolen from you! Your Mr. Foley is a--a----" +Whichever way she turned for an adequate word she ran against a +restriction barring its use by femininity. "A robber!" she ended. + +"But aren't you going to protest the election?" + +"I shall--certainly. But there's mighty little chance of the result +being changed. Foley'll see to that." + +He tried to look brave, but Ruth guessed the bitterness within. She +yearned to have him talk over things with her; her sympathy for him now +that she beheld him dispirited after a daring fight was even warmer than +when she had seen him pulsing with defiant vigor. "Won't you tell me +what you are going to do? If you don't mind." + +"I'd tell if I knew. But I hardly have my bearings yet." + +"Are you sure you can't work at your trade?" + +"Not unless I kiss Foley's shoes." + +She did not like to ask him if he were going to give in, but the +question was in her face, and he saw it. + +"I'm not that bad licked yet." + +"There's Mr. Driscoll's offer," she suggested. + +"Yes. I've thought of that. I don't know what move I'll make next. I +don't just see now how I'm going to keep at the fight, but I'm not ready +to give it up. If I took Mr. Driscoll's job, I'd have to drop the fight, +for I'd practically have to drop out of the union. If the protest +fails--well, we'll see." + +Ruth looked at him thoughtfully, and she thrilled with a personal pride +in him. He had been beaten; the days just ahead looked black for him; +but his spirit, though exhausted, was unbroken. As a result of her +experience she was beginning to regard business as being largely a +compromise between self-respect and profit. In Tom's place she guessed +what Mr. Baxter would do, and she knew what Mr. Driscoll would do; and +the thing they would do was not the thing that Tom was doing. And she +wondered what would be the course of Mr. Berman. + +At the moment of parting she said to him, in her frank, impulsive way: +"I think you are the bravest man I have ever known." He could only +stumble away from her awkwardly, for to this his startled brain had no +proper answer. His courage began to bubble back into him; and the warmth +aroused by her words grew and grew--till he drew near his home, and then +a chill began to settle about him. + +Maggie was reading the installment of a serial story in an evening paper +when he came in. She glanced up, then quickly looked back at her paper +without speaking. + +He started into the bedroom in silence, but paused hesitant in the +doorway and looked at her. "What are you reading, Maggie?" + +"The Scarlet Stain." + +He held his eyes upon her a moment longer, and then with a sigh went +into the bedroom and lit the gas. The instant he was gone from the +doorway Maggie took her eyes from the story and listened irresolutely. +All day her brain had burnt with angry thoughts, and all day she had +been waiting the chance to speak. But her obstinate pride now strove to +keep her tongue silent. + +"Tom!" she called out, at length. + +He appeared in the doorway. "Yes." + +"What are you going to do?" + +He was silent for a space. "I don't just know yet." + +"I know," she said in a voice she tried to keep cold and steady. +"There's only one thing for you to do. That's to get on the square with +Foley." + +Their eyes met. Hers were cold, hard, rebellious. + +"I'll think it over," he said quietly; and went back into the bedroom. + + + + +Chapter XIV + +NEW COURAGE AND NEW PLANS + + +The next morning after breakfast Tom sat down to take account of his +situation. But his wife's sullen presence, as she cleared away the +dishes, suffocated his thoughts. He went out and walked south a few +blocks to a little park that had formerly served the neighborhood as a +burying-ground. A raw wind was chattering among the bare twigs of the +sycamore trees; the earth was a rigid shell from the night's frost, and +its little squares and oblongs of grass were a brownish-gray; the sky +was overcast with gray clouds. The little park, this dull March day, was +hardly more cheerful than the death it had erewhile housed, but Tom sat +down in its midst with a sense of grateful relief. + +His mind had already passed upon Maggie's demand of the previous +evening. But would it avail to continue the fight against Foley? He had +slept well, and the sleep had strengthened his spirit and cleared his +brain; and Ruth's recurring words, "I think you are the bravest man I +have ever known," were to him a determining inspiration. He went over +the situation detail by detail, and slowly a new plan took shape. + +Foley had beaten him by a trick. In six months there would be another +election. He would run again, and this next time, profiting by his dear +experience of Wednesday night, he would see that guard was set against +every chance for unfair play. During the six months he would hammer at +Foley's every weak spot, and emphasize to the union the discredit of +Foley's discreditable acts. + +He would follow up his strike agitation. He had already put Foley into +opposition to a demand for more money. If he could induce the union to +make the demand in the face of Foley's opposition it would be a telling +victory over the walking delegate. Perhaps, even, he might head the +management of the strike--if it came to a strike. And if the strike were +won, it would be the complete undoing of Foley. As for Maggie, she would +oppose the plan, of course, but once he had succeeded she would approve +what he had done. In the meantime he would have to work at some poorly +paid labor, and appease her as best he could. + +At dinner that night little was said, till Maggie asked with a choking +effort: "Did you see Foley to-day?" + +"No," said Tom. He ate a mouthful, then laid down knife and fork, and +looked firmly into her face. "I didn't try to see him. And I might as +well tell you, Maggie, that I'm not going to see him." + +"You'll not see him?" she asked in a dry voice. "You'll not see him?" + +"Most likely it would not do any good if I did see him. You mark what I +say, Maggie," he went on, hopefully. "Foley thinks I'm down, and you +do, too, but in a few months things'll be better than they ever were. We +may see some hard times--but in the end!" + +"You were just that certain last week. But how'll we live?" + +"I'll find some sort of a temporary job." + +She looked at him tensely; then she rose abruptly and carried her +indignant grief into the kitchen. She had decided that he must be borne +with. But would he never, never come to his senses! + +After he had finished his dinner, which had been ready earlier than +usual, Tom hurried to the Barrys', and found the family just leaving the +table. He rapidly sketched his new plan. + +"You're runnin' again' Foley again in six months is all right, but +where's the use our tryin' to get more money?" grumbled Pete. "Suppose +we fight hard an' win the strike. What then? We get nothin' out of it. +Foley won't let us work." + +"Oh, talk like a man, Pete!" requested Mrs. Barry. "You know you don't +think that way." + +"If we win the strike, with Foley against it, it'll be the end of him," +said Tom, in answer to Pete. + +"But suppose things turn out with Foley in control o' the strike?" +questioned Barry. + +"That won't happen. But if it would, he'd run it all on the square. And +he'd manage it well, too. You know what he has done. Well, he'd do the +same again if he was forced into a fight. + +"It won't be hard to work the men up to make the demand for an +increase," Tom went on. "All the men who voted for me are in favor of +it, and a lot more, too. All we've got to do is to stir them up a bit, +and get word to them to come out on a certain night. Foley'll hardly +dare put up a fight against us in the open." + +"Whoever runs the strike, we certainly ought to have more money," said +Mrs. Barry decidedly. + +"And the bosses can afford to give us more," declared Tom. "They've +never made more than they have the last two years." + +"Sure, they could divide a lot o' the money we've made with us, an' +still not have to button up their own clothes," averred Mrs. Barry. + +"Oh, I dunno," said Pete. "They're hard up, just the same as us. What's +a hundred thousand when you've got to spend money on yachts, champagne +an' Newport, an' other necessities o' life? The last time I was at the +Baxters', Mrs. Baxter was settin' at the kitchen table figgerin' how she +could make over the new dress she had last summer an' wonderin' how +she'd ever pay the gas bill." + +Mrs. Barry grunted. + +"I got a picture o' her!" + +Tom brought the talk back to bear directly upon his scheme, and soon +after left, accompanied by Pete, to begin immediately his new campaign. + +As soon as they had gone Mrs. Barry turned eagerly to her husband. "If +we get that ten per cent. raise, Henry won't have to go to work when +he's fourteen like we expected." + +"Yes. I was thinkin' o' that." + +"An' we could keep him in school mebbe till he's eighteen. Then he +could get a place in some office or business. By that time Annie'll be +old enough to go to normal college. She can go through there and learn +to be a teacher." + +"An' mebbe I can get you some good clothes, like I've always wanted to." + +"Oh, you! D'you think you can buy everything with seventy dollars!" She +leaned over with glowing eyes and kissed him. + +Rapid work was required by the new campaign, for Tom had settled upon +the first meeting in April as the time when he would have the demand for +more wages put to a vote. The new campaign, however, would be much +easier than the one that had just come to so disastrous an ending. As he +had said, the men were already eager to make the demand for more money; +his work was to unite this sentiment into a movement, and to urge upon +the men that they be out to vote on the first Wednesday in April. + +Tom's first step was to enlist the assistance of the nine other men who +had helped him in his fight against Foley. He found that the vengeance +of the walking delegate had been swift; seven had abruptly lost their +jobs. When he had explained his new plan, eight of the nine were with +him. The spirit of the ninth was gone. + +"I've had enough," he said bitterly. "If I hadn't mixed in with you, I'd +be all right now." Upon this man Tom promptly turned his back. He was an +excellent ally to be without. + +Tom, with Pete, Barry, and his eight other helpers, began regularly to +put in each evening in calling upon the members of the union. Every man +they saw was asked to talk to others. And so the word spread and spread. + +And to Foley it came among the first. Jake Henderson heard it whispered +about the St. Etienne Hotel Saturday, and when the day's work was done +he hurried straight to Foley's home in order to be certain of catching +Buck when he came in to dinner. He had to wait half an hour, but that +time was not unpleasantly spent, inasmuch as Mrs. Foley set forth a +bottle of beer. + +When Foley caught the tenor of Jake's story his face darkened and he let +out an oath. But immediately thereafter he caught hold of his +excitement. While Jake talked Foley's mind worked rapidly. He did not +want a strike for three sufficient reasons. First of all, that the move +was being fathered by Tom was enough to make him its opponent. Secondly, +he had absolutely nothing to gain from a strike; his power was great, +and even a successful strike could not add to it. And last, he would +lose financially by it; his arrangement with Baxter and one or two other +contractors would come to an end, and in the management of a general +strike so many persons were involved that he would have no chance to +levy tribute. + +Before Jake had finished his rather long-winded account Foley cut him +short. "Yes. I'm glad youse come in. I was goin' to send for youse +to-night about this very thing." + +"What! Youse knew all about it already?" + +Foley looked surprise at him. "D'youse think I do nothin' but sleep?" + +"Nobody can't tell youse anything," said Jake admiringly. "Youse're +right up to the minute." + +"Some folks find me a little ahead." He pulled at his cigar. "I got a +little work for youse an' your bunch." + +Jake sprang up excitedly. "Not Keating?" + +"If youse could guess that well at the races youse'd always pick the +winner. This business's got to stop, an' I guess that's the easiest way +to stop it." And, Foley might have added, the only way. + +"He ought to've had it long ago," said Jake, with conviction. + +"He'll enjoy it all the more for havin' to wait for it." He stood up, +and Jake, accepting his dismissal, took his hat. "Youse have a few o' +the boys around to-night, an' I'll show up about ten. Four or five ought +to be enough--say Arkansas, Smoky, Kaffir Bill, and Hickey." + +Foley saw Connelly and two or three other members of his cabinet during +the evening, and gave orders that the word was to go forth among his +followers that he was against Keating's agitation; he knew the inside +facts of present conditions, and knew there was no chance of winning a +strike. At ten o'clock he sauntered into the rear room of Mulligan's +saloon. Five men were playing poker. With the exception of one they were +a group to make an honest man fall to his knees and quickly confess his +sins. Such a guileless face had the one that the honest man would have +been content with him as confessor. In past days the five had worked a +little, each in his own part of the world, and not liking work had +procured their living in more congenial ways; and on landing in New +York, in the course of their wanderings, they had been gathered in by +Foley as suited to his purpose. + +"Hello, Buck!" they called out at sight of Foley. + +"Hello, gents," he answered. He locked the door with a private key, and +kicked a chair up to the table. + +"Say, Buck, I got a thirst like a barrel o' lime," remarked he of the +guileless face, commonly known as Arkansas Number Two. "D'you know +anything good for it?" + +"The amount o' money I spend in a year on other men's drinks'd support a +church," Foley answered. But he ordered a quart of whisky and glasses. +"Now let's get to business," he said, when they had been placed on the +table. "I guess youse've got an idea in your nuts as to what's doin'?" + +"Jake put us next," grinned Kaffir Bill. "Keating." + +"Yes. He's over-exertin' his throat. He's likely to spoil his voice, if +we don't sorter step in an' stop him." + +"But Jake didn't tell us how much youse wanted him to have," said Kaffir +Bill. "Stiff?" + +"Not much. Don't youse remember when youse made an undertaker's job out +o' Fleischmann? An' how near youse come to takin' the trip to Sing Sing? +We don't want any more risks o' that sort. Leave your guns at home." +Foley gulped down the raw whisky. "A couple months' vacation'd be about +right for Keating. It'd give him a chance to get acquainted with his +wife." + +He drew out a cigar and fitted it to one corner of his mouth. "He's left +handed, youse know. An' anyhow he works mostly with his mouth." + +"An' he's purty chesty," said Jake, following up Foley's cue with a +grin. + +"That's the idea," said Foley. "A wing, an' say two or three slats. Or a +leg." + +The five understood and pledged the faithful discharge of their trust in +a round of drinks. + +"But what's in it for us?" asked Arkansas Number Two. + +"It's an easy job. Youse get him in a fight, he goes down; youse do the +business with your feet. Say ten apiece. That's plenty." + +"Is that all it's worth to you?" Arkansas asked cunningly. + +"Make it twenty-five, Buck," petitioned Kaffir Bill. "We need the coin. +What's seventy-five more to youse?" + +The other four joined in the request. + +"Well, if I don't I s'pose every son-of-a-gun o' youse'll strike," said +Foley, assuming the air of a defeated employer. "All right--for this +once. But this ain't to be the regular union rate." + +"You're all to the good, Buck!" the five shouted. + +Foley rose and started out. At the door he paused. "Youse can't ask me +for the coin any too soon," he said meaningly. + +The five held divergent opinions upon many subjects, but upon one point +they were as one mind--esteem for the bottle. So when Buck's quart of +whisky was exhausted they unanimously decided to remove themselves to +Potomac Hall, in whose bar-room there usually could be found someone +that, after a dark glance or two, was delighted to set out the drinks. + +They quickly found a benefactor in the person of Johnson, also a devotee +of the bottle. They were disposing of the third round of drinks when +Pete, who had been attending a meeting of the Membership Committee of +the union, passed through the bar-room on his way out. Jake saw him, +and, three parts drunk, could not resist the opportunity for advance +satisfaction. "Hold on, Pig Iron," he called after him. + +Pete stopped, and Jake walked leeringly up to him. "This here----" the +best Jake could do in the way of profanity, "Keating is goin' to get +what's comin' to him!" Jake ended with a few more selections from his +repertoire of swear-words. + +Pete retorted in kind, imperatively informing Jake that he knew where he +could go, and walked away. Pete recognized the full meaning of Jake's +words; and a half hour later he was knocking on Tom's door. He found a +tall, raw-boned man sitting in one of Tom's chairs. Maggie had gone to +bed. + +"Shake hands with Mr. Petersen, Pete," said Tom sleepily. "He's just +come into the union." + +"Glad to know you," said Pete, and offered a hand to the Swede, who took +it without a word. He turned immediately about on Tom. "I guess you're +in for your thumps, Tom." And he told about his meeting with the five +members of the entertainment committee. + +"I expected 'em before the election. Well, I'll be ready for 'em," Tom +said grimly. + +A light had begun to glow in Petersen's heavy eyes as Pete talked. He +now spoke for the first time since Pete had come in. "Vot day do?" he +asked. + +Pete explained in pantomine, thrusting rapid fists close to various +parts of Petersen's face. "About five men on you at once." + +Petersen grunted. + +When Pete left, the Swede remained in his chair with anxiety showing +through his natural stolidity. Tom gave a helpless glance at him, and +followed Pete out into the hall. + +"For God's sake, Pete, help me out!" Tom said in a whisper. "He's the +fellow I helped get into the union. I told you about him, you know. He +came around to-night to tell me he's got a job. When I came in at half +past ten he'd been here half an hour already. It's eleven-thirty now. +And he ain't said ten words. I want to go to bed, but confound him, he +don't know how to leave!" + +Pete opened the door. "Say, Petersen, ain't you goin' my way? Come on, +we'll go together." + +Petersen rose with obvious relief. He shook hands with Tom in awkward +silence, and together he and Pete went down the stairs. + +Monday morning Tom bought the first revolver he had ever possessed. If +he had had any doubt as to the correctness of Pete's news, that doubt +would not have been long with him. During the morning, as he went about +looking for a job, he twice caught a glimpse of three members of the +entertainment committee watching him from the distance; and he knew +they were waiting a safe chance to close in upon him. The revolver in +his inner vest pocket pressed a welcome assurance against his ribs. + +That night when he came down from dinner to carry his new plan from ear +to ear, he found Petersen, hands in his overcoat pockets, standing +patiently without the doorway of the tenement. + +"Hello, Petersen," he said in surprise. + +"Hello," said Petersen. + +Tom wanted no repetition of his experience of Saturday night. "Got a lot +of work to do to-night," he said hurriedly. "So-long." + +He started away. The Swede, with no further words, fell into step beside +him. For several blocks they walked in silence, then Tom came to a pause +before a tenement in which lived a member of the union. + +"Good-by, Petersen," he said. + +"Goo'-by," said Petersen. + +They shook hands. + +When Tom came into the street ten minutes later there was Petersen +standing just where he had left him. Again the Swede fell into step. +Tom, though embarrassed and irritated by the man's silent, persistent +company, held back his words. + +At the second stop Tom said shortly: "I'll be here a long while. You +needn't wait." + +But when he came down from the call, which he had purposely extended, +Petersen was waiting beside the steps. This was too much for Tom. "Where +are you going?" he demanded. + +"'Long you," the Swede answered slowly. + +"I don't know's I need you," Tom returned shortly, and started away. + +For half a dozen paces there was no sound but his own heel-clicks. Then +he heard the heel-clicks of the Swede. He turned about in exasperation. +"See here! What's your idea in following me around like this?" + +Petersen shifted his feet uncomfortably. "De man, last night, he +say----" He finished by placing his bony fists successively on either +side of his jaw. "I tank maybe I be 'long, I be some good." + +A light broke in on Tom. And he thought of the photograph on Petersen's +leprous wall. He shoved out his hand. "Put it there, Petersen!" he said. + +And all that evening Tom's silent companion marched through the streets +beside him. + + + + +Chapter XV + +MR. BAXTER HAS A FEW CONFERENCES + + +Captains of war have it as a common practice to secure information, in +such secret ways as they can, about their opponents' plans and +movements, and to develop their own plans to match these; and this +practice has come into usage among captains of industry. The same +afternoon that Jake brought news of Tom's scheme to Foley, a man of +furtive glance whom a member of the union would have recognized as +Johnson requested the youth in the outer office of Baxter & Co. to carry +his name to the head of the firm. + +"Wha' d'youse want to see him 'bout?" demanded the uniform. + +"A job." + +"No good. He don't hire nobody but the foremen." + +"It's a foreman's job I'm after," returned Johnson, glancing about. + +The debate continued, but in the end Johnson's name went in to Mr. +Baxter, and Johnson himself soon followed it. When he came out Mr. +Baxter's information was as complete as Buck Foley's. + +That evening Johnson's news came into the conversation of Mr. Baxter and +his wife. After dinner she drew him into the library--a real library, +booked to the ceiling on three sides, an open wood fire on the +other--to tell him of a talk she had had that day with chance-met Ruth. +With an aunt's privilege she had asked about the state of affairs +between her and Mr. Berman. + +"There's no telling what she's going to do," Mrs. Baxter went on, with a +gentle sigh. "I do hope she'll marry him! People are still talking about +her strange behavior in leaving us to go to work. How I did try to +persuade her not to do it! I knew it would involve us in a scandal. And +the idea of her offering to go to work in your office!" + +Mr. Baxter continued to look abstractedly into the grate, as he had +looked ever since she had begun her half-reminiscent strain. Now that +she was ended, she could but note that his mind was elsewhere. + +"James!" + +"Yes." He turned to her with a start. + +"Why, you have not spoken a word to me. Is there something on your +mind?" + +He studied the flames for a moment. "I learned this afternoon that the +Iron Workers' Union will probably demand a ten per cent. increase in +wages." + +"What! And that means a strike?" + +"It doubtless does, unless we grant their demand." + +"But can you afford to?" + +"We could without actually running at a loss." + +Mrs. Baxter was on the board of patronesses of one or two workingwomen's +clubs and was a contributor to several fashionable charities, so +considered herself genuinely thoughtful of the interests of +wage-earners. "If you won't lose anything, I suppose you might as well +increase their salaries. Most of them can use a little more money. +They're respectable people who appreciate everything we do for them. And +you can make it up by charging higher prices." + +Mr. Baxter sat silent for a space looking at his wife, quizzically, +admiringly. He was inclined to scoff in his heart at his wife's +philanthropic hobbies, but he indulged her in them as he did in all her +efforts to attain fashionable standing. He had said, lover fashion, in +their courtship days, that she should never have an ungratified wish, +and after a score of years he still held warmly to this promise. He +still admired her; and little wonder, for sitting with her feet +stretched toward the open fire, her blonde head gracefully in one hand, +her brown eyes fixed waitingly on him, looking at least eight less than +her forty-three years, she was absolutely beautiful. + +"Elizabeth," he said at length, "do you know how much we spent last +year?" + +"No." + +"About ninety-three thousand dollars." + +"So much as that? But really, it isn't such a big sum. A mere nothing to +what some of our friends spend." + +"This year, with our Newport house, it'll be a good thirty thousand +more; one hundred and twenty-five thousand, anyway. Now I can't make the +owners pay the raise, as you seem to think." He smiled slightly at her +business naïveté. "The estimates on the work I'll do this year were all +made on the present scale, and I can't raise the estimates. If the ten +per cent. increase is granted, it'll have to come out of our income. Our +income will be cut down for this year to at least seventy-five thousand. +If things go bad, to fifty thousand." + +Mrs. Baxter rose excitedly to her feet. "Why, that's absurd!" + +"We'd have to give up the Newport house," he went on, "put the yacht out +of commission and lessen expenses here." + +She looked at her husband in consternation. After several years of +effort Mrs. Baxter was just getting into the outer edge of the upper +crust of New York society. At her husband's words she saw all that she +had striven for, and which of late had seemed near of attainment, +withdraw into the shadowy recesses of an uncertain future. + +"But we can't cut down!" she cried desperately. "We simply can't! We +couldn't entertain here in the manner we have planned. And we'd have to +go to Atlantic City this summer, or some other such place!--and who goes +to Atlantic City? Why, we'd lose everything we've gained! We can never +give the raise, James. It's simply out of the question!" + +"And we won't," said Mr. Baxter, gently tapping a forefinger upon the +beautifully carved arm of his chair. + +"Anyhow, suppose we do spend a hundred and twenty-five thousand, why the +working people get everything back in wages," she added ingeniously. + +Mr. Baxter realized the economic fallacy of this last statement; but he +refrained from exposing her sophistry since her conscience found +satisfaction in it. + +Monday morning, in discharge of his duty as president of the Iron +Employers' Association, Mr. Baxter got Murphy, Bobbs, Isaacs, and +Driscoll, the other four members of the Executive Committee, on the +telephone. At eleven o'clock the five men were sitting around Mr. +Baxter's cherry table. Bobbs, Murphy, and Isaacs already had knowledge +of Tom's plans; Mr. Baxter was not the only one having unionists on his +payroll who performed services other than handling beams and hammering +rivets. Mr. Driscoll alone was surprised when Mr. Baxter stated the +object of calling the committee thus hastily together. + +"Why, I thought we'd been assured the old schedule would be continued!" +he said. + +"So Mr. Foley gave us to understand," answered Mr. Baxter. "But it's +another man, a man named Keating, that's stirring this up." + +"Keating!" Mr. Driscoll's lips pouted hugely, and his round eyes +snapped. For a man to whom he had taken a genuine liking to be stirring +up a fight against his interest was in the nature of a personal affront +to him. + +"I think I know him," said Mr. Murphy. "He ain't such a much!" + +"That shows you don't know him!" said Mr. Driscoll sharply. "Well, if +there is a strike, we'll at least have the satisfaction of fighting with +an honest man." + +"That satisfaction, of course," admitted Mr. Baxter, in his soft, +rounded voice. "But what shall be our plan? It is certainly the part of +wisdom for us to decide upon our attitude, and our course, in advance." + +"Fight 'em!" said Mr. Driscoll. + +"What is the opinion of you other gentlemen?" + +"They don't deserve an increase, so I'm against it," said Mr. Bobbs. Had +he spoken his thought his answer would have been: "It'll half ruin me if +we give the increase. Fact is, I've gone in pretty heavy in some real +estate lately. If my profits are cut down, I can't meet my payments." + +"Same as Driscoll," said Mr. Murphy, a blowzed, hairy man, a Tammany +member of the Board of Aldermen. He swore at the union. "Why, they're +already gettin' twice what they're worth!" + +Mr. Baxter raised his eyebrows the least trifle at Mr. Murphy's +profanity. "Mr. Isaacs." + +"I don't see how we can pay more. And yet if we're tied up by a strike +for two or three months we'll lose more than the increase of wages would +come to." + +Mr. Baxter answered the doubtful Mr. Isaacs in his smooth, even tones. +"You seem to forget, Mr. Isaacs, that if we grant this without a fight, +there'll be another demand next spring, and another the year after. +We're compelled to make a stand now if we would keep wages within +reasonable bounds." + +"Yes, I suppose so," agreed Mr. Isaacs. + +"Besides, if there is a strike it is not at all likely that it will last +any time," Mr. Baxter continued. "We should break the strike easily, +with a division in the union, as of course you see there is,--this Mr. +Keating on one side, Mr. Foley on the other. I've met Mr. Keating. I +dare say he's honest enough, as Mr. Driscoll says. But he is +inexperienced, and I am sure we can easily outgeneral him." + +"Beat 'em easy, an' needn't spit on our hands to do it neither," said +Mr. Murphy. He started to swing one foot upon the cherry table, but +catching Mr. Baxter's eye he checked the leg in mid-career. + +Straightway the five plunged into an excited discussion of the chance of +beating the strike, of plans for fighting it, and of preparation that +should be made in anticipation of it. + +When they had gone Mr. Baxter sat down to his desk and began writing a +note. He had listened to the talk of the four, to him mere chatter, with +outward courtesy and inward chafing, not caring to mention to them the +plan upon which he had already decided. His first impulse had been to +fight the union, and fight it hard. He hated trade unionism for its +arrogation of powers that he regarded as the natural right of the +employer; it was his right, as the owner of a great business, and as the +possessor of a superior intelligence, to run his affairs as he saw +fit--to employ men on his own terms, work them such hours and under such +conditions as he should decide--terms, hours, and conditions, of course, +to be as good as he could afford. But his business training, his wholly +natural instinct for gain, and later his large family expenses, had +fixed upon him the profitable habit of seeking the line of least +resistance. And so, succeeding this first hot impulse, was a desire that +the strike be avoided--if that were possible. + +His first thought had been of Foley. But the fewer his meetings with the +walking delegate of the iron workers, the more pleased was he. Then came +the second thought that it was better to deal directly with the +threatening cause--and so the letter he now wrote was to Tom Keating. + +The letter was delivered Tuesday morning before Tom left home. He read +it in wonderment, for to him any letter was an event: + + "Will you please call at my office as soon as you can find it + convenient. I have something to say that I think will interest you." + +Guessing wildly as to what this something might be, Tom presented +himself at ten o'clock in the outer office of Baxter & Co. The uniform +respectfully told him that Mr. Baxter would not be in before twelve. At +twelve Tom was back. Yes, Mr. Baxter was in, said the uniform, and +hurried away with Tom's name. Again there was a wait before the boy came +back, and again a wait in a sheeny chair before Mr. Baxter looked up. + +"Oh, Mr. Keating," he said. "I see you got my letter." + +"Yes. This morning." + +Mr. Baxter did not lose a second. "What I wanted to see you about is +this: I understand that some time ago you were inquiring here for a +position. It happens that I have a place just now that I'm desirous of +filling with an absolutely trustworthy man. Mr. Driscoll spoke very +highly to me of you, so I've sent for you." + +This offer came to Tom as a surprise. His uppermost guess as to the +reason for his being summoned had been that Mr. Baxter, repenting of his +late non-participation, now wished to join in the fight against Foley. +Under other circumstances Tom would have accepted the position, said +nothing, and held the job as long as he could. But the fact that the +offer was coming to him freely and in good faith prompted him to say: +"You must know, Mr. Baxter, that if you give me a job Foley'll make +trouble for you." + +"I have no fear of Mr. Foley's interference," Mr. Baxter answered him +quietly. + +"You haven't!" Tom leaned forward in sudden admiration. "You're the +first boss I've struck yet that's not afraid of Foley! He's got 'em all +scared stiff. If you'd come out against him----" + +Tom would have said more but Mr. Baxter's cold reserve, not a change of +feature, chilled his enthusiasm. He drew up in his chair. "What's the +job?" + +"Foreman. The salary is forty a week." + +Tom's heart beat exultantly--and he had a momentary triumph over Maggie. +"I'll take it," he said. + +"Can you begin at once?" + +"Yes." + +"Very well. Then I'll want you to leave to-morrow." + +Tom started. "Leave?" + +"Yes. Didn't I mention that the job is in Chicago?" + +Mr. Baxter watched Tom closely out of his steely gray eyes. He saw the +flush die out of Tom's face, saw Tom's clasped hands suddenly +tighten--and knew his answer before he spoke. + +"I can't do it," he said with an effort. "I can't leave New York." + +Mr. Baxter studied Tom's face an instant longer.... But it was too +honest. + +He turned toward his desk with a gentle abruptness. "I am very sorry, +Mr. Keating. Good-day." + +With Mr. Baxter there was small space between actions. He had already +decided upon his course in case this plan should fail. Tom was scarcely +out of his office before he was writing a note to Buck Foley. + +Foley sauntered in the next morning, hands in overcoat pockets, a cigar +in one corner of his mouth. "What's this I hear about a strike?" Mr. +Baxter asked, as soon as the walking delegate was seated. + +"Don't youse waste none o' the thinks in your brain-box on no strike," +returned Foley. He had early discovered Mr. Baxter's dislike of uncouth +expressions. + +"But there's a great deal of serious talk." + +"There's always wind comin' out o' men's mouths." + +Mr. Baxter showed not a trace of the irritation he felt. + +"Is there going to be a strike?" + +"Not if I know myself. And I think I do." He blew out a great cloud of +smoke. + +"But one of your men--a Mr. Keating--is stirring one up." + +"He thinks he is," Foley corrected. "But he's got another think comin'. +He's a fellow youse ought to know, Baxter. Nice an' cultivated; +God-fearin' an' otherwise harmless." + +Mr. Baxter's face tightened. "I know, Mr. Foley, that this situation is +much more serious than you pretend," he said sharply. + +Foley tilted back in his chair. "If youse seen a lion comin' at youse +with a yard or so of open mouth youse'd think things was gettin' a +little serious. But if youse knew the lion'd never make its last jump, +youse wouldn't go into the occupation o' throwin' fits, now would +youse?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Nothin'. Only there'll be no last jump for Keating." + +"How's that?" + +"How? That's my business." He stood up, relit his cigar, striking the +match on the sole of his shoe. "Results is what youse's after. The how +belongs to me." + +At the door he paused, half closed one eye, and slowly blew forth the +smoke of his cigar. "Now don't get brain-fag," he said. + + + + +Chapter XVI + +BLOWS + + +It was about half past twelve when Tom left Mr. Baxter's office. As he +came purposeless into the street it occurred to him that he was but a +few blocks from the office of Mr. Driscoll, and in the same instant his +chance meeting with Ruth three weeks before as she came out to lunch +flashed across his memory. He turned his steps in the direction of Mr. +Driscoll's office, and on gaining the block it was in walked slowly back +and forth on the opposite side of the street, eagerly watching the +revolving door of the great building. At length she appeared. Tom +started quickly toward her. Another quarter revolution of the door and a +man was discharged at her side. The man was Mr. Berman; and they walked +off together, he turning upon her glances whose meaning Tom's quickened +instinct divined at once. + +The sight of these two together, Mr. Berman's eyes upon her with an +unmistakable look, struck him through with jagged pain. He was as a man +whose sealed vision an oculist's knife has just released. Amid startled +anguish his eyes suddenly opened to things he, in his blindness, had +never guessed. He saw what she had come to mean to him. This was so +great that, at first, it well-nigh obscured all else. She filled +him,--her sympathy, her intelligence, her high womanliness. And she, +she that filled him, was ... only a great pain. + +And then (he had mechanically followed them, and now stood watching the +door within which they had disappeared--the door through which he had +gone with her three weeks before) he saw, his pain writhing within him +the while, the double hopelessness of his love: she was educated, +cultured--she could care nothing for a mere workman; and even if she +could care, he was bound. + +And then (he was now moving slowly through the Broadway crowd, scarcely +conscious of it) he saw how poor he was in his loveless married life. +Since his first liking for Maggie had run its so brief course, he had +lapsed by such slow degrees to his present relations with her that he +had been hardly more conscious of his life's lacking than if he had been +living with an unsympathetic sister. But now that a real love had +discovered itself to him, with the suddenness of lightning that rips +open the night, he saw, almost gaspingly, how glorious life with love +could be; and, by contrast, he saw how sordid and commonplace his own +life was; and he saw this life without love stretching away its flat +monotony, year after year. + +And there were things he did not see, for he had not been made aware by +the unwritten laws prevailing in a more self-conscious social stratum. +And one of these things was, he did not see that perhaps in his social +ignorance he had done Ruth some great injury. + +That night Maggie kept his dinner warm on the back of the kitchen +range, to no purpose; and that night Petersen waited vainly on the +tenement steps. It was after twelve when Tom came into the flat, his +face drawn, his heart chilled. He had seen his course vaguely almost +from the first moment of his vision's release; he had seen it clearer +and more clear as hour after hour of walking had passed; and he felt +himself strong enough to hold to that course. + +The next morning at breakfast he was gentler with Maggie than he had +been in many a day; so that once, when she had gone into the kitchen to +refill her coffee cup, she looked in at him for a moment in a kind of +resentful surprise. Not being accustomed to peering inward upon the +workings of his soul, Tom himself understood this slight change in his +attitude no better than did his wife. He did not realize that the coming +of the knowledge of love, and the coming of sorrow, were together +beginning to soften and refine his nature. + +The work Tom had marked out for himself permitted him little time to +brood over his new unhappiness. After breakfast he set out once more +upon his twofold purpose: to find a job, if one could be found; to talk +strike to as many members of the union as he could see. In seeking work +he was limited to such occupations as had not yet been unionized. He +walked along the docks, thinking to find something to do as a +longshoreman, but the work was heavy and irregular, the hours long, the +pay small; and he left the river front without asking for employment. He +looked at the men in the tunnel of the underground railway; but he could +not bring himself to ask employment among the low-waged Italians he saw +there. He did go into three big stores and make blind requests for +anything, but at none was there work for him. + +As he went about Tom visited the jobs near which he passed, on which +members of his union were at work. One of these was a small residence +hotel just west of Fifth Avenue, whose walls were up, but which was as +yet unfinished on the inside. He climbed to the top in search of members +employed on the iron stairways and the elevator shafts, but did not find +a man. He reached the bottom of the stairway just in time to see three +men enter the doorway. One of the three he recognized as Jake Henderson, +and he knew the entertainment committee had him cornered. He grimly +changed his revolver from his vest pocket to his left coat pocket, and +filling his right coat pocket from a heap of sand beside him, quietly +awaited their coming. + +The three paused a moment inside the door, evidently to accustom their +eyes to the half darkness, for all the windows were boarded up. At +length they sighted him, standing before the servants' staircase in the +further corner. They came cautiously across the great room, as yet +unpartitioned, Jake slightly in the lead. At ten paces away they came to +a halt. + +"I guess we got youse good an' proper at last," said Jake gloatingly. +"It won't do youse no good to yell. We'll give youse all the more if +youse do. An' we can give it to youse, anyhow, before the men can get +down." + +Tom did not answer. He had no mind to cry for help. He stood alertly +watching them, his hands in his coat pockets. + +Jake laid off his hat and coat--there was leisure, and it enlarged his +pleasure to take his time--and moved forward in advance of his two +companions. + +"Good-by," he said leering. He was on the point of lunging at his +victim, when Tom's right hand came out and a fistful of sand went +stinging full into his face. He gave a cry, but before he could so much +as make a move to brush away the sand Tom's fist caught him on the ear. +He dropped limply. + +The two men sprang forward, to be met in the face by Tom's revolver. + +"If you fellows want button-holes put into you, just move another step!" +he said. + +They took another step, several of them--but backward steps. Tom kept +them covered for a minute, then moved toward the light, walking +backward, his eyes never leaving them. On gaining the door he slipped +the revolver into his vest pocket and stepped quickly into the blinding +street. + +When Tom, entering the union hall that evening, passed Jake at his place +at the door, the latter scowled fiercely, but the presence of several of +Tom's friends, who had been acquainted with the afternoon's encounter, +pacified his fists. + +"Why, what's the matter with your eyes, Jake?" asked Pig Iron Pete +sympathetically. + +Jake consigned Pete to the usual place, and whispered in Tom's ear: +"Youse just wait! I'll git youse yet!" + +That night Tom sat his first time in the president's chair. His +situation was painfully grotesque,--instead of being the result of the +chances of election, it might well have been an ironic jest of Foley: +there was Connelly, two tables away, at his right; Brown, the +vice-president, at the table next him; Snyder, the corresponding +secretary, at his left; Jake Henderson, sergeant-at-arms, at the +door;--every man of them an intimate friend of Foley. And it was not +long before Tom felt the farce-tragedy of his position. Shortly after he +rapped the meeting to order a man in the rear of the hall became +persistently obstreperous. After two censured outbreaks he rose +unsteadily amid the discussion upon a motion. "I objec'," he said. + +"What's your objection?" Tom asked, repressing his wrath. + +The man swore. "Ain't it 'nough I objec'!" + +"If the member is out of order again he'll have to leave the hall." Tom +guessed this to be a scheme of Foley to annoy him. + +"Put me out, you----" And the man offered some remarks upon Tom's +character. + +Tom pounded the table with his gavel. "Sergeant-at-arms, put that man +out!" + +Jake, who stood at the door whispering to a man, did not even turn +about. + +"Sergeant-at-arms!" + +Jake went on with his conversation. + +"Sergeant-at-arms!" thundered Tom, springing to his feet. + +Jake looked slowly around. + +"Put that man out!" Tom ordered. + +"Can't youse see I'm busy?" said Jake; and turned his broad back. + +Several of Tom's friends sprang up, but all in the room waited to see +what he would do. For a moment he stood motionless, a statue of +controlled fury, and for that moment there was stillness in the hall. +Then he tossed the gavel upon the table and strode down the center +aisle. He seized the offending member, who was in an end seat, one hand +on his collar and one on his wrist. The man struck out, but a fierce +turn of his wrist brought from him a submissive cry of pain. Tom pushed +him, swearing, toward the door. No one offered interference, and his +ejection was easy, for he was small and half drunken. + +Tom strode back to his table, brought the gavel down with a blow that +broke its handle and looked about with blazing eyes. Again the union +waited his action in suspense. His chest heaved; he swallowed mightily. +Then he asked steadily: "Are you ready for the question?" + +This is but one sample of the many annoyances Tom suffered during the +meeting, and of the annoyances he was to suffer for many meetings to +come. A man less obstinately strong would have yielded his resignation +within an hour--to force which was half the purpose of the harassment; +and a man more violent would have broken into a fury of words, which, +answering the other half of the purpose, would have been to Foley's crew +what the tirade of a beggar is to teasing schoolboys. + +When "new business" was reached Tom yielded the chair to Brown, the +vice-president, and rose to make the protest on which he had determined. +He had no great hope of winning the union to the action he desired; but +it had become a part of his nature never to give up and to try every +chance. + +The union knew what was coming. There were cheers and hisses, but Tom +stood waiting minute after minute till both had died away. "Mr. +Chairman, I move we set aside last week's election of walking delegate," +he began, and went on to make his charges against Foley. Cries of "Good +boy, Tom!" "Right there!" came from his friends, and various and +variously decorated synonyms for liar came from Foley's crowd; but Tom, +raising his voice to a shout, spoke without pause through the cries of +friends and foes. + +When he ended half the crowd was on foot demanding the right to the +floor. Brown dutifully recognized Foley. + +Foley did not speak from where he stood in the front row, but sauntered +angularly, hands in trousers pockets, to the platform and mounted it. +With a couple of kicks he sent a chair from its place against the wall +to the platform's edge, leisurely swung his right foot upon the chair's +seat, rested his right elbow upon his knee, and with cigar in the left +corner of his mouth, and his side to his audience, he began to speak. + +"When I was a kid about as big as a rivet I used to play marbles for +keeps," he drawled, looking at the side wall. "When I won, I didn't make +no kick. When I lost, a deaf man could 'a' heard me a mile. I said the +other kid didn't play fair, an' I went cryin' around to make him give +'em up." + +He paused to puff at his cigar. "Our honorable president, it seems he's +still a kid. Me an' him played a little game o' marbles last week. He +lost. An' now he's been givin' youse the earache. It's the same old +holler. He says I didn't play fair. He says I tried to stuff the box at +the start. But that was just a game on his part, as I said then, to +throw suspicion on me; an' anyhow, no ballots got in. He says I stuffed +it by a trick at the last. What's his proof? He says so. +Convincin'--hey? Gents, if youse want to stop his bawlin', give him back +his marbles. Turn me down, an' youse'll have about what's comin' to +youse--a cry baby sport." + +He kicked his chair back against the wall and sat down; and amidst all +the talk that followed he did not once rise or turn his face direct to +the crowd. But when, finally, Brown said, "Everybody in favor of the +motion stand up," Foley rose to his full height with his back against +the wall, and his withheld gaze now struck upon the crowd with startling +effect. It was a phenomenon of his close-set eyes that each man in a +crowd thought them fixed upon himself. Upon every face that gaze seemed +bent--lean, sarcastic, menacing. + +"Everybody that likes a cry baby sport, stand up!" he shouted. + +Men sprang up all over the hall, and stood so till the count was made. + +"Those opposed," Brown called out. + +A number equally great rose noisily. A glance showed Tom the motion was +lost, since a two-thirds' vote was necessary to rescind an action. But +as his hope had been small, his disappointment was now not great. + +Foley's supporters broke into cheers when they saw their leader was +safe, but Foley himself walked with up-tilted cigar back to his first +seat in an indifferent silence. + + + + +Chapter XVII + +THE ENTERTAINMENT COMMITTEE + + +During the three weeks that followed Tom kept busy day and night,--by +day looking for work and talking to chance-met members, by night +stirring the members to appear on the first Wednesday of April to vote +for the demand for higher wages. He was much of the time dogged by part +of the entertainment committee, but he had become watchful, and the +knowledge that he was armed made them wary, so day after day passed +without another conflict. At first his committee's delay in the +discharge of their duty stirred Foley's wrath. "Youse're as slow as fat +angels!" he informed them in disgust. Later the delay stirred his +anxiety, and he raised his offer from twenty-five dollars a man to one +hundred. + +Every night Tom was met at his street door by Petersen and left there by +him a few hours later. His frequent appearance with Tom brought Petersen +into some prominence; and he was promptly nicknamed "Babe" by a +facetious member who had been struck by his size, and "Rosie" by a man +who saw only his awkwardness. Both names stuck. His relation to Tom had +a more unpleasant result: it made the story of his discomfiture by a man +of half his size, while on the fire-house job, decidedly worth the +telling; and so it rapidly came into general circulation, and the sight +of Petersen was the signal for jeers, even among Tom's own friends. +Petersen flushed at the taunts, but bore them dumbly and kept his arms +at his side. + +All this while Ruth was much in Tom's mind. Had it not been that he kept +himself busy he could have done little else but think of her. As it was, +he lay awake long hours at night, very quietly that he might not rouse +his wife, in wide-eyed dreams of her; and several times by day he caught +himself out of thoughts of her to find himself in a street far out of +his way. And once, in the evening, he had puzzled the faithful Petersen +by walking back and forth through an uptown block and gazing at a house +in which no member of the Iron Workers' Union could possibly be living. +But he held firmly to the course he had recognized as his only course. + +For three weeks he maintained his determination, against desire scarcely +less strong than his strength, till the evening of the first Tuesday of +April, the night before the vote upon the strike. Then, either he was +weaker, or desire was stronger. He was overwhelmed. His resolve to keep +away from her, his intention to spend this last evening in work, were +nothing before his wish to see her again. He was fairly swept up to her +door, not heeding Petersen, and not giving a thought to Jake, whom he +glimpsed once in the street car behind when a brief blockade let it gain +the tail of his own. + +"You needn't wait for me," he said mechanically to Petersen as he rang +the bell. Again the maid brought back word for him to come up. This +time Ruth was not waiting him at the head of the stairs. He stood before +her door a moment, with burning brain, striving for mastery over +himself, before he could knock. She called to him to enter, and he found +her leaning against her little case of books, unusually pale, but with +eyes brighter than he had ever seen them. + +She took a step toward him, and held out her hand. "I'm so glad you +called, Mr. Keating." + +Tom, for his part, could make no answer; his throat had suddenly gone +cracking dry. He took her hand; his grip was as loose as an unconscious +man's. + +As was the first minute, so were the two hours that followed. In answer +to her questions he told her of his new plans, without a vestige of +enthusiasm; and presently, to save the situation, she began to talk +volubly about nothing at all. They were hours of mutual constraint. Tom +hardly had knowledge of what he said, and he hardly heard her words. His +very nearness to her made more ruthlessly clear the wideness that lay +between them. He felt with its first keenness the utter hopelessness of +his love. Every moment that he sat with his hot eyes upon her he +realized that he should forthwith go. But still he sat on in a silence +of blissful agony. + +At length there came an interruption--a knock at the door. Ruth answered +it, and when she turned about she held out an envelope to Tom. "A letter +for you," she said, with a faint show of surprise. "A messenger brought +it." + +Tom tore it open, looking first to the signature. It was from Pete. "I +have got a bunch of the fellows in the hall over the saloon at--Third +Avenue," read the awkward scramble of words. "On the third floor. Can't +you come in and help me with the spieling?" + +At another time Tom might have wondered at this note: how Pete had come +to be in a hall with a crowd of men, how Pete had learned where he was. +But now the note did not raise a doubt in his fevered brain. + +He folded the note, and put it into a pocket. "I've got some work to do +yet to-night," he explained, and he took up his hat. It was an unusually +warm evening for the first of April and he had worn no overcoat. + +"You must come again soon," she said a few moments later, as he was +leaving. Tom had nothing to say; he could not tell her the truth--that +he expected never to see her again. And so he left her, awkwardly, +without parting word of any kind. At the foot of the stairs he paused +and looked up at her door, at the head of the first flight, and he +looked for a long, long space before he stepped forth into the night. + +A little round man stood bareheaded on the stoop; Petersen was pacing +slowly to and fro on the sidewalk. The little man seized Tom by the arm. +"Won't you send a policeman, please," he asked excitedly, in an +inconsequential voice, such as belongs properly to the husband of a +boarding-house mistress. + +"What for?" + +"That man there has been walking just so, back and forth, for the last +two hours. From the way he keeps looking up at the house it is certain +he is contemplating some nefarious act of burglary." + +"I'll do better than send a cop," said Tom. "I'll take him away myself." + +He went down the steps, took Petersen's arm and started off with him. +"Thank you exceedingly, sir!" called out the little man. + +They took an Eighty-sixth Street cross-town car to Third Avenue, and +after five minutes' riding southward Tom, keeping watch from the end of +the car, spied a number near to the one for which he was searching. They +got out and easily found the place designated in Pete's note. It was +that great rarity, a saloon in the middle of a New York block. The +windows of the second floor were dark; a soft glow came through those of +the floor above. + +With the rattle of the elevated trains in their ears Tom and Petersen +entered the hallway which ran alongside the saloon, and mounted two +flights of stairs so dark that, at the top of the second, Tom had to +grope for the door. This discovered, he opened it and found himself at +the rear of the hall. This was a barren, dingy room, perhaps forty feet +long, with double curtains of some figured cloth at the three front +windows. Four men sat at the front end of the room playing cards; there +were glasses and beer bottles on the table, and the men were smoking. + +All this Tom saw within the time of the snapping of an instantaneous +shutter; and he recognized, with the same swiftness, that he had been +trapped. But before he could shift a foot to retreat, a terrific shove +from behind the door sent him staggering against the side wall. The door +was slammed shut by the same force, grazing Petersen as he sprang in. +The bolt of the lock clicked into place. + +"We've got youse this time!" Tom heard a harsh voice cry out, and on the +other side of Petersen, who stood on guard with clenched fists, he saw +Jake Henderson, a heavy stick in his right hand. + +In the same instant the men at the table had sprung to their feet. "Why, +if it ain't Rosie!" cried Kaffir Bill, advancing at the head of the +quartette. + +"Say, fellows, tie my two hands behind me, so's me an' Rosie can have an +even fight," requested Arkansas Number Two. + +"If youse want Rosie to fight, youse've got to tie his feet together," +said Smoky; and this happy reference to the time Petersen ran away +brought a laugh from the three others. + +Tom, recovering from his momentary dizziness, drew his revolver and +levelled it at the four. "The first man that moves gets the first +bullet." + +The men suddenly checked their steps. + +For an instant the seven made a tableau. Then Petersen sprang in at +Jake. A blow from the club on his left shoulder stopped him. Again he +sprang in, this time breaking through Jake's guard, but only to grasp +Jake's left arm with his half-numbed left hand. This gave Jake his +chance. His right hand swung backward with the club, his eyes on Tom. + +"Look out!" cried Petersen. + +Tom, guessing danger in the warning, pulled the trigger. With a cry +Hickey dropped to the floor, a bullet in his leg. In the very flash of +the revolver the whizzing club sent the weapon flying from Tom's hand. +Tom made a rush after the pistol, and Jake, breaking from Petersen's +grip, made a plunge on the same errand. Both outstretched hands closed +upon it, and the two men went sprawling to the floor in a struggle for +its possession. + +Petersen faced quickly about upon the men whom Tom's revolver had made +hesitant. Hickey lay groaning and swearing, a little pool of blood +beginning to form on the bare floor. The other three, in their lust for +their reward now so nearly won, gave Hickey hardly a glance, but +advanced upon Petersen with the confidence that comes of being three to +one and of knowing that one to be a coward. Petersen slipped off his +coat, threw it together with his derby hat upon the floor near the wall, +and with swelling nostrils quietly awaited their onslaught. + +Arkansas stepped forth from his fellows. "Where'll I hit you first, +Rosie? Glad to give you your pref'rence." And he spat into the V of +Petersen's vest. + +That was the last conscious moment of Arkansas for an hour. Petersen +took a step forward, his long arm shot out, and Arkansas went to the +floor all a-huddle. + +Tom's eyes, glancing an instant from his own adversary, saw the "Swedish +Terror" of the photograph: left foot advanced, fists on guard, body +low-crouched. "Come on!" Petersen said, with a joyous snarl, to the two +men who had fallen back a step. "Come on. I vant you bod!" + +Kaffir Bill looked hesitantly upon his companion. "It was only a lucky +lick, Smoky; Arkansas wasn't lookin'," he explained doubtfully. + +"Yes," said the other. + +"Sure. It couldn't 'a' been nothin' else. Why, Kid Morgan done him up." + +"Come on then!" cried Smoky. + +Together they made a rush, Bill a step in advance. Petersen's right +landed over Bill's heart. Bill went tottering backward and to the floor. +Smoky shot in and clinched; but after Petersen's fists, like alternating +hammers, had played a terrific tattoo against his two cheeks, he loosed +his hold and staggered away with his arms about his ears. Bill rose +dizzily to his feet, and the pair leaned against the further wall, +whispering and watching Petersen with glowering irresolution. + +"Come on, bod! Come on vid you!" Petersen shouted, his fists moving back +and forth in invitation, his indrawn breath snoring exultantly. + +Jake let out an oath. "Get into him!" he said. + +"Yah! Come on vid you!" + +They conferred a moment longer, and then crept forward warily. Hickey +stopped his groaning and rose to his elbows to watch the second round. +At five feet away the two paused. Then suddenly Smoky made a feint, +keeping out of reach of the Swede's swinging return, and under cover of +this Kaffir Bill ducked and lunged at Petersen's legs. + +Petersen went floundering to the floor, and Smoky hurled himself upon +his chest. The three became a whirling, tumbling tangle,--arms striking +out, legs kicking,--Petersen now in under, now half free, striking and +hugging with long-untasted joy, breathing fierce grunts and strange +ejaculations. The two had thought, once off his feet, the Swede would be +an easy conquest. But Petersen had been a mighty rough-and-tumble +scrapper before he had gone into the prize ring, and for a few +tumultuous moments the astounded twain had all they could do to hold +their own. + +"Slug him, can't youse!" gasped Bill, who was looking after Petersen's +lower half, to Smoky, who was looking after the upper. + +Smoky likewise saw that only a blow in the right place could give them +victory over this heaving force. So far it had taken his best to hold +these long arms. But he now loosed his hug to get in the victorious +blow. Before he could strike, Petersen's fist jammed him in the face. + +"Ya-a-h!" grunted the Swede. + +Smoky fell instantly to his old position. "Hit him yourself!" he growled +from Petersen's shirt front. + +Bill, not having seen what had happened to Smoky, released a leg so that +he might put his fist into Petersen's stomach. The leg kicked his knee. +Bill, with a shriek, frantically re-embraced the leg. + +The two now saw they could do no more than merely hold Petersen, and so +the struggle settled to a stubborn equilibrium. + +In the meantime the strife between Tom and Jake had been like that of +two bulls which stand braced, with locked horns. Jake's right hand had +gained possession of the revolver, having at first had the better hold +on it; Tom had a fierce grip on his forearm. The whole effort of one was +to put the weapon into use; the whole effort of the other was to prevent +its use, and perhaps to seize it for himself. Neither dared strike lest +the act give the other his chance. + +When he saw nothing was coming of the struggle between Bill and Smoky +and Petersen, a glimpse of the wounded man, raised on his elbows, gave +Jake an idea. With a jerk of his wrist he managed to toss the revolver a +couple of feet away, beyond his own and Tom's reach. + +"Hickey!" he called out. "Get it!" + +The wounded man moved toward them, half crawling, half dragging himself. +A vengeful look came into his eyes. Tom needed no one to tell him what +would happen when the man he had shot laid hand upon his weapon. Hickey +drew nearer and nearer, his bloody trouser leg leaving a moist trail on +the bare floor. His head reached their feet--passed them--his right hand +stretched out for the revolver. Tom saw his only chance. With a supreme +effort he turned Jake, who in watching Hickey was momentarily off his +guard, upon his back; and with all the strength of his leg he drove his +foot into the crawling man's stomach. The man collapsed with a groaning +outrush of breath. + +Tom saw that the deadlock was likely to be ended, and the victory won, +by the side gaining possession of the revolver; and he saw the danger +to Petersen and himself that lay in the possibility of either of the +unconscious men regaining his senses. Petersen's slow mind worked +rapidly enough in a fight; he, too, saw the danger Tom had seen. +Anything to be done must be done at once. + +But a nearer danger presented itself. Jake strained his neck till his +eyes were on the trio. "Can't one o' youse hold him?" he gasped. +"T'other git the gun." + +Smoky was on his back crosswise beneath Petersen's chest, his arms tight +about Petersen's neck, clamping Petersen's hot cheek against his own. +Kaffir Bill lay upon the Swede's legs, arms locked about them just below +the hips. Bill was the freer to obey the order of the chief, and he +began to slip his arms, still embracing the legs, slowly downward. + +Certainly anything to be done must be done at once, for Petersen, lost +to passion though he was, knew that in another moment Bill's arms would +have slipped to his feet, and there would be a spring to be clear of his +kick and a rush for the revolver. With a fierce grunt, he quickly placed +his broad hands on either side of Smoky's chest and slowly strained +upward. Bill, not knowing what this new move meant, immediately +regripped Petersen's thighs. Slowly Petersen rose, lifting Smoky's +stiffened body after him, cheek still tight against cheek, till his +elbows locked. Then his hips gradually raised till part of his weight +was on his knees. His back arched upward, and his whole body stiffened +till it was like a bar of iron. + +Suddenly his arms relaxed, and he drove downward, his weight and +strength concentrated against Smoky's cheek. Smoky's head battered the +floor. His arms loosened; a quick blow on the jaw made them fall limp. +Petersen whirled madly over to dispose of Bill, but in the same tick of +the watch Bill sprang away, and to his feet, and made a dash for the +revolver. Instantly Petersen was up and but two paces behind him. Bill's +lunging hand fell upon the weapon, Petersen's fist fell upon Bill, and +the revolver was Petersen's. + +When Jake saw Petersen come up with the pistol he took his arms from +about Tom. "Youse've got me done. I give in," he growled. + +The two were rising when a wild voice sounded out hoarsely: "Come on! +Come on now vid you!" + +Tom, on his feet, turned toward Petersen. The Swede, left hand gripping +the revolver about its barrel, stood in challenging attitude, his eyes +blazing, saliva trickling from one corner of his mouth. "Yah! Come on!" + +Tom recognized what he was seeing,--that wild Swedish rage that knows +neither when it has beat nor when it is beaten; in this case all the +less controllable from its long restraint. + +Pete, Smoky, and Bill were now all on their feet and leaning against the +wall. Petersen strode glaring before them, shaking his great fists +madly. "Come on now!" + +"Petersen!" Tom called. + +"Come on vid you! I vant all dree!" The harsh voice rose into a shriek. + +The three did not move. "For God's sake, Petersen! The fight's over!" +Tom cried. + +"Afraid! Yah! Afraid! I lick you all dree!" + +With an animal-like roar he rushed at the three men. Smoky and Bill +ducked and dashed away, but Jake stood his ground and put up his fists. +A blow and he went to the floor. Petersen flung about to make for Smoky +and Bill. Tom seized his arm. + +"God, man! Stop! They've give in!" + +"Look out!" A shove sent Tom staggering, and Petersen was away. "I lick +'em all, by God!" he roared. + +With annihilating intent he bore down upon Bill and Smoky, who stood +back to wall on fearful defense. An inspiration flashed upon Tom. "Your +wife, Petersen! Your wife!" he cried. + +Petersen's raging strides checked. He looked slowly about. "Vot?" + +"Your wife!" + +"Anna!... Anna!" Dazed, breathing heavily, he stared at Tom. Something +like a convulsion went through him. His face faded to dullness, then to +contrition. + +"Better let me have the gun," Tom said quietly, after a minute had +passed. + +Petersen handed it over. + +"Now get your hat and coat, and we'll go." + +Without glancing at the three, who were staring at him in utter +bewilderment, Petersen dully put on his hat and coat. A moment later he +and Tom were backing toward the door. But before they reached it Tom's +steady gaze became conscious of the curtains at the further end of the +room. His square face tightened grimly with sudden purpose. + +"Take down those curtains, Petersen," he said. + +Petersen removed the six curtains, dusty and stained with tobacco juice, +from their places and brought them to Tom. + +"Tear five of 'em into two strips." + +The three men, and Hickey from the floor, looked on curiously while +Petersen obeyed. + +"Tie Jake up first; hands behind his back," was Tom's next order. + +"I'll see youse in hell first!" Jake backed away from Petersen and +raised his fists. + +"If you make any trouble, I'll give you a quick chance to look around +there a bit!" + +Jake gazed a moment at the revolver and the gleaming eye behind it, and +his fists dropped. Petersen stepped behind him and went to work, +twisting the strip of muslin into a rope as he wound it about Jake's +wrists. The job was securely done in a minute, for Petersen had once +followed the sea. + +"Now his feet," said Tom; and to Jake: "It'll be easier for you if you +lay down." + +Jake hesitated, then with an oath dropped to his knees and tumbled +awkwardly on his side. In another minute Jake's feet were fastened; and +at the end of ten minutes the other four men had been bound, even the +wounded Hickey. + +Tom put his revolver in his outside coat pocket, and unlocked the door. +"Good-night," he said; and he and Petersen stepped out. He locked the +door and put the key in his pocket. + +"Police?" asked Petersen, when they had gained the street. + +"No. That's what they ought to have. But when you've been a union man +longer you'll know we boys don't ask the police to mix in our affairs. +When there's a strike, they're always turned against us by the bosses. +So we leave 'em alone." + +They were but half a dozen squares from Mulligan's saloon. Tom set out +in its direction, and five minutes later, with Petersen behind him, he +walked into the doorway of the room beyond the bar. As he had expected, +there sat Foley, and with him were three of his men. Foley started, and +half rose from his chair, but settled back again. His discomposure +confirmed what Tom had already guessed--that Foley's was the brain +behind the evening's stratagem, and that he was awaiting his deputies' +report. + +"I guess you were expecting somebody else," Tom said grimly from the +doorway, one hand on the revolver in his coat pocket. "I just dropped in +to tell you Jake Henderson and his bunch are waiting for you up over +Murphy's saloon." + +Foley was dazed, as he could not help but be, thus learning his last +plan had failed. "Youse saw 'em?" + +"I did." + +He looked Tom over. And then his eyes took in the figure of Petersen +just within the doorway. He grasped instinctively at the chance to raise +a laugh. "Was Rosie there?" he queried. + +The three dutifully guffawed. + +"Yes," said Tom. "Rosie was there." + +Foley took a bracing hold of himself, and toyed with the stem of his +beer glass. "Much obliged for comin' in to tell me," he said, with a +show of carelessness. "But I guess the boys ain't in no hurry." + +"No, I guess not," Tom agreed. "They said they'd wait till you came." + +With that he tossed the key upon the table, turned and strode forth from +the saloon. Outside he thrust a gripping arm through Petersen's, which +straightway took on an embarrassed limpness, and walked away. + + + + +Chapter XVIII + +THE STOLEN STRIKE + + +Tom mounted the stairs of Potomac Hall early the next evening. During +the day he had told a few friends the story of the encounter of the +night before. The story had spread in versions more or less vague and +distorted, and now on his entry of the hall he was beset by a crowd who +demanded a true and detailed account of the affair. This he gave. + +"Oh, come now, Tom! This's hot air you're handin' us out about Babe!" +expostulated one of the men. + +"It's the truth." + +"Get out! I saw Kid Morgan chase him a block. He can't fight." + +"You think not? Well, there's one way you can convince yourself." + +"How's that?" + +"Try it with him for about a minute," answered Tom. + +There was a laugh, in which the man joined. "I tell you what, boys," he +said, after it had subsided. "I hit Babe on the back o' the neck with a +glove the day Kid chased him. If what Tom says is straight, I'm goin' to +beg Babe's pardon in open meetin'." + +"Me, too," chimed in another. + +"It's so," said Tom, thinking with a smile of what was in store for +Petersen. + +For some reason, perhaps one having to do with their personal pride, +Jake and his fellows did not appear that night, though several hundred +men waited their coming with impatient greetings. But just before Tom +opened the session Petersen entered the hall and slipped into an obscure +seat near the door. + +He was immediately recognized. "Petersen!" someone announced. +Straightway men arose all over the hall and turned about to face him. +"Petersen!" "Petersen!" "What's the matter with Petersen!" the cries +went up, and there was a great clapping of hands. + +Petersen sprang to his feet in wild consternation. Yes, they were +looking at him. Yes, that was his name. He didn't know what it meant---- + +But the next instant he had bolted out of the hall. + +When the shouting had died away Tom called the union to order. He was +filled with an exultant sense of certain triumph; he had kept an +estimating eye on the members as they had filed in; an easy majority of +the men were with him, and as their decision would be by open vote there +would be no chance for Foley to stuff a ballot-box. + +Pete, the instructed spokesman for Tom's party, was the first man on his +feet. "Mr. President," he said, "I move we drop the reg'lar order o' +business an' proceed at once to new business." + +Tom put the motion to rising vote. His confidence grew as he looked +about the hall, for the rising vote on the motion showed how strong his +majority really was. + +"Motion carried!" he shouted, and brought down his gavel. + +The next instant a dozen men were on their feet waving their right hands +and crying, "Mr. Chairman." One was Pete, ten were good-intentioned but +uninformed friends, and one was Foley. Tom's eyes fastened upon Foley, +and his mind worked quickly. + +"Mr. Foley," he said. + +A murmur of surprise ran among Tom's friends. But he had his reason for +this slight deviation from his set plan. He knew that Foley was opposed +to a strike; if he let Foley go on record against it in a public speech, +then his coming victory over the walking delegate would be all the more +decisive. + +Foley looked slowly about upon the men, and for a moment did not speak. +Then he said suddenly, in a conversational tone: "Boys, how much youse +gettin'?" + +"Three seventy-five," several voices answered. + +"How long youse been gettin' it?" + +"Two years." + +"Yes," he said, his voice rising and ringing with intensity. "Two years +youse've been workin' for three seventy-five. The bosses' profits have +been growin' bigger an' bigger. But not a cent's raise have youse had. +Not a cent, boys! Now here's what I say." + +He paused, and thrust out his right arm impressively. Tom regarded him +in sickened, half-comprehending amazement. + +"Here's what I say, boys! I say it's time we had more money. I say we +ought to make the blood-suckin' bosses give up a part o' what's comin' +to us. That's what I say!" And he swung his doubled fist before his face +in a great semi-circle. + +He turned to Tom, with a leer in his eyes that was for Tom alone. "Mr. +President, I move we demand a ten per cent. increase o' wages, an' if +the bosses won't give it, strike for it!" + +Tom sank stupefied back in his chair. Foley's own men were bewildered +utterly. A dead silence of a minute or more reigned in the hall, while +all but the walking delegate strove to recover their bearing. + +It was Connelly who broke the general trance. Connelly did not +understand, but there was Foley's standing order, "Watch me, an' do the +same." "I second the motion," he said. + +A little later Foley's strike measure was carried without a single +dissenting vote. Foley, Connelly, Brown, Pete, and Tom, with Foley as +chairman, were elected the committee to negotiate with the employers for +higher wages, and, if there should be a strike, to manage it. + +The adoption of the strike measure meant to Foley that the income +derived from Mr. Baxter, and two or three others with whom he maintained +somewhat similar relations, was to be cut off. But before he reached +home that night he had discovered a compensation for this loss, and he +smiled with grim satisfaction. The next morning he presented himself in +the office of Mr. Baxter, and this same grim smile was on his face. + +"Hello, Baxter! How youse stackin' up this mornin'?" And he clapped a +hand on Mr. Baxter's artistically padded shoulder. + +The contractor started at this familiarity, and a slight frown showed +itself on his brow. "Very well," he said shortly. + +"Really, now. Why, youse look like youse slept alongside a bad dream." +Foley drew forth his cigar-case and held it out. He knew Mr. Baxter did +not smoke cigars and hated their smell. + +"No, thank you." + +The walking delegate put one in his mouth and scratched a match under +the edge of the cherry table. "I don't s'pose youse know there was +doin's at the union last night?" + +"I understand the union decided to strike." + +"Wonderful, ain't it, how quick news travels?" + +Mr. Baxter disregarded Foley's look of mock surprise. "You seem to have +failed utterly to keep your promise that there would be no strike," he +said coldly. + +"It was Keating stirred it up," Foley returned, calmly biting a bit off +his cigar and blowing it out upon the deep red rug. + +"You also failed to stop Mr. Keating," Mr. Baxter pursued. + +"Mr. Baxter, even the best of us makes our mistakes. I bet even youse +ain't cheated every man youse've counted on cheatin'." + +Mr. Baxter gave another little start, as when Foley had slapped his +shoulder. "Furthermore, I understand you, yourself, made the motion to +strike." + +"The way youse talk sometimes, Baxter, makes me think youse must 'a' +been born about minute before last," Foley returned blandly. "As an +amachure diplomat, youse've got Mayor Low skinned to death. Sure I made +the motion. An' why did I make the motion? If I hadn't 'a' made it, but +had opposed it, where'd I 'a' been? About a thousand miles outside the +outskirts o' nowhere,--nobody in the union, an' consequently worth about +as much to youse as a hair in a bowl o' soup. I stood to lose both. I +still got the union." + +"What do you propose that we do?" Mr. Baxter held himself in, for the +reason that he supposed the old relation would merely give place to a +new. + +"Well, there's goin' to be strike. The union'll make a demand, an' I +rather guess youse'll not give up without a fight." + +"We shall certainly fight," Mr. Baxter assured him. + +"Well," he drawled, "since I've got to lead the union in a strike an' +youse're goin' to fight the strike, it seems like everything'd have to +be off between us, don't it?" + +Mr. Baxter did not reply at once, and then did not answer the question. +"What are you going to do?" + +"To tell youse, that is just what I came here for." In a flash Foley's +manner changed from the playful to the vindictive, and he leaned slowly +forward in his chair. "I'm goin' to fight youse, Baxter, an' fight youse +like hell!" he said, between barely parted teeth. And his gray eyes, +suddenly hard, gazed maliciously into Mr. Baxter's face. + +"I'm goin' to fight like hell!" he went on. "For two years I've been +standin' your damned manicured manners. Youse've acted like I wasn't fit +to touch. Why d'youse s'pose I've stood it? Because it was money to me. +Now that there's no money in it, d'youse s'pose I'm goin' to stand it +any longer? Not much, by God! And d'youse think I've forgotten the +past--your high-nosed, aristocratic ways? Well, youse'll remember 'em +too! My chance's come, an' I'm goin' to fight youse like hell!" + +At the last Foley's clenched fist was under Mr. Baxter's nose. The +contractor did not stir the breadth of a hair. "Mr. Foley," he said in +his cold, even voice, "I think you know the shortest way out of this +office." + +"I do," said Foley. "An' it's a damned sight too long!" + +He gave Mr. Baxter a long look, full of defiant hate, contemptuously +flipped his half-smoked cigar on Mr. Baxter's spotless desk, and strode +out. + + + + +Chapter XIX + +FOLEY TASTES REVENGE + + +Foley's threat that, under cover of the strike, he was going to make Mr. +Baxter suffer, was anything save empty bluster. But twenty years of +fighting had made him something of a connoisseur of vengeance. He knew, +for instance, that a moment usually presented itself when revenge was +most effective and when it tasted sweetest. So he now waited for time to +bring him that moment; and he waited all the more patiently because a +month must elapse ere the beginning of the strike would afford him his +chance. + +The month passed dully. Buck had spoken from certain knowledge when he +had remarked to Mr. Baxter that the contractors would not yield without +a fight. During April there were no less than half a dozen meetings +between the union's committee and the Executive Committee of the +employers' association in a formal attempt at peaceful settlement. The +public attitude of Foley and Baxter toward each other for the past two +years had been openly hostile. That attitude was not changed, but it was +now sincere. In these meetings the unionists presented their case; the +employers gave their side; every point, pro and con, was gone over again +and again. On the thirtieth of April the situation was just as it had +been on the first: "We're goin' to get all we're askin' for," said +Foley; "We can concede nothing," said Mr. Baxter. On the first of May +not a man was at work on an iron job in New York City. + +During these four weeks Foley regained popularity with an astounding +rapidity. He was again the Foley of four or five years ago, the Foley +that had won the enthusiastic admiration of the union, fierce-tongued in +his denunciation of the employers at union meetings, grimly impudent to +members of the employers' Executive Committee and matching their every +argument,--at all times witty, resourceful, terribly determined, fairly +hurling into others a confidence in himself. He was feeling with almost +its first freshness the joy of being in, and master of, a great fight. +Men that for years had spoken of him only in hate, now cheered him. And +even Tom himself had to yield to this new Foley a reluctant admiration, +he was so tireless, so aggressive, so equal to the occasion. + +Tom had become, by the first of May, a figure of no importance. True, he +was a member of the strike committee, but Foley gave him no chance to +speak; and, anyhow, the walking delegate said what there was to be said +so pointedly, albeit with a virulence that antagonized the employers all +the more, that there was no reason for his saying aught. And as for his +position as president, that had become pathetically ludicrous. As though +in opposite pans of a balance, the higher Foley went in the union's +estimation, the lower went he. Even his own friends, while not +abandoning him, fell in behind Foley. He was that pitiable anomaly, a +leader without a following and without a cause. Foley had stolen both. +He tried to console himself with the knowledge that the walking delegate +was managing the strike for the union's good; but only the millionth man +has so little personal ambition that he is content to see the work he +would do being well done by another.... And yet, though fallen, he hung +obstinately on and waited--blindly. + +Tom was now in little danger from the entertainment committee, for +Foley's disquiet over his influence had been dissipated by his rapid +decline. And after the first of May Tom gave Foley even less concern, +for he had finally secured work in the shipping department of a +wholesale grocer, so could no longer show himself by day among the union +men. + +During April the contractors had prepared for the coming fight by +locating non-union ironworkers, and during the first part of May they +rushed these into the city and set them to work, guarded by Pinkerton +detectives, upon the most pressing jobs. The union, in its turn, +picketed every building on which there was an attempt to continue work, +and against the scabs the pickets waged a more or less pacific warfare. +Foley was of himself as much as all the pickets. He talked to the +non-union men as they came up to their work, as they left their work, as +they rode away on street cars, as they sat in saloons. Some he reached +by his preachment of the principles of trade unionism. And some he +reached by such brief speech as this: "This strike'll be settled soon. +Our men'll all go back to work. What'll happen to youse about then? The +bosses'll kick youse out. If youse're wise youse'll join the union and +help us in the strike." This argument was made more effective by the +temporary lifting of the initiation fee of twenty-five dollars, by which +act scabs were made union men without price. There was also a third +method, which Foley called "transmittin' unionism to the brain by the +fist," and he reached many this way, for his fist was heavy and had a +strong arm behind it. + +The contractors, in order to retain the non-union men, raised their +wages to fifty cents a day more than the union demanded, but even then +they were able to hold only enough workers to keep a few jobs going in +half-hearted fashion. There were many accidents and delays on these +buildings, for the workers were boilermakers, and men who but half knew +the trade, and men who did not know the trade at all. As Pete remarked, +after watching, from a neighboring roof, the gang finishing up the work +on the St. Etienne Hotel, "The shadder of an ironworker would do more'n +three o' them snakes." The contractors themselves realized perfectly +what poor work they were getting for so extravagant a price, and would +have discharged their non-union gangs had this not been a tacit +admission of partial defeat. + +From the first of May there of course had been several hot-heads who +favored violent handling of the scabs. Tom opposed these with the +remnant of his influence, for he knew the sympathy of the public has its +part in the settlement of strikes, and public sympathy goes not to the +side guilty of outrage. The most rabid of all these advocates of +violence was Johnson, who, after being summoned to Mr. Baxter's office, +began diligently to preach this substance: "If we put a dozen or two o' +them snakes out o' business, an' fix a job or two, the bosses'll come +right to time." + +"It strikes me, Johnson, that you change your ideas about as often as +you ought to change your shirt," Pete remarked one day, after listening +to Johnson's inflammatory words. "Not long ago you were all against a +strike." + +For a moment Johnson was disconcerted. Then he said: "But since there is +a strike I'm for measures that'll settle it quick. What you got against +smashin' a few scabs?" + +"Oh, it's always right to smash a scab," Pete agreed. "But you ought to +know that just now there's nothin' the bosses'd rather have us do. +They'd pay good money to get us to give the hospitals a chance to +practice up on a few snakes." + +Johnson looked at Pete searchingly, fearing that Pete suspected. But +Pete guessed nothing, and Johnson went about his duty. + +There were a number of encounters between the strikers and the +strike-breakers, and several of these set-tos had an oral repetition in +the police courts; but nothing occurred so serious as to estrange public +sympathy till the explosion in the Avon, a small apartment house Mr. +Baxter was erecting as a private investment. And with this neither +Johnson nor the rank and file, on whose excitable feelings he tried to +play, had anything to do. + +Foley's patience mastered his desire for vengeance easily enough during +April, but when May had reached its middle without offering the chance +he wanted, his patience weakened and desire demanded its rights. At an +utterly futile meeting between the committees of the union and the +employers, toward the end of the month, arranged for by the Civic +Federation, the desire for vengeance suddenly became the master. This +was the first meeting since the strike began, and was the first time +Foley had seen Mr. Baxter since then. The contractor did not once look +at Foley, and did not once address speech to him; he sat with his back +to the walking delegate, and put all his remarks to Brown, the least +important member of the strikers' committee. Foley gave as good as he +received, for he selected Isaacs, who was nothing more than a fifth man, +and addressed him as head of the employers' committee; and rather +better, for he made Mr. Baxter the object of a condescending affability +that must have been as grateful as salt to raw and living flesh. + +But Foley was not appeased. When he and Connelly were clear of the +meeting he swore fiercely. "He won't be so cool to-morrow!" he said, and +swore again. "An' the same trick'll help bring 'em all to time," he +added. + +Foley had already had vengeful eyes upon the Avon, which stood on a +corner with a vacant lot on one side and an open space between its rear +and the next building. Jake had carefully reconnoitered its premises, +with the discovery that one of the two Pinkerton guards was an +acquaintance belonging to the days when he himself had been in the +service of the Pinkerton agency. That night Jake sauntered by the Avon, +chatted awhile with the two guards, and suggested a visit to a nearby +saloon. As soon as the three were safely around the corner Kaffir Bill +and Arkansas Number Two slipped into the doorway of the Avon, leaving +Smoky on watch without. Bill and Arkansas had their trouble: to find +their way about in the darkness, to light the fuse--and then they had to +cut off an unignitable portion of the fuse; and then in their nervous +eagerness to get away their legs met a barrel of cement and they went +sprawling behind a partition. Several moments passed ere they found the +doorway, the while they could hear the sputtering of the shortened fuse, +and during which they heard Smoky cry out, "Come on!" When they did come +into the street it was to see the two Pinkertons not twenty paces away. +Before their haste could take them to the opposite sidewalk the pavement +jumped under their feet, and the building at their backs roared heavily. +The guards, guessing the whole trick, began shooting at the two. A +policeman appeared from around the corner with drawn pistol--and that +night Jake, Bill, and Arkansas slept in a cell. + +The next morning, after getting on the car that carried him to his work, +Tom took up his paper with a leisure that straightway left him, for his +eyes were instantly caught by the big headlines sketching the explosion +in the Avon. He raced through the three columns. He could see Foley +behind the whole outrage, and he thrilled with satisfaction as he +foresaw the beginning of Foley's undoing in the police court. There was +no work for him that morning. He leaped off the car and took another +that brought him near the court where the three men were to have their +preliminary hearing. + +It was half-past eight when he reached the court. As he entered the +almost empty court-room he saw Foley and a black-maned man of +lego-theatric appearance standing before a police sergeant, and he heard +Foley say: "This is their lawyer; we want to see 'em straight off." Tom +preferred to avoid meeting Foley, so he turned quickly back and walked +about for half an hour. When he returned the small court-room was +crowded, the clerks were in place, the policemen and their prisoners +stood in a long queue having its head at the judge's desk and its tail +without the iron railing that fenced off the spectators. + +Tom had been in the court-room but a few minutes when an officer +motioned him within the railing. The court attorney stepped to his side. +"You were pointed out to me as the president of the Iron Workers' +Union," said the attorney. + +"Yes." + +"And I was told you didn't care particularly for the prisoners in this +explosion case." + +"Well?" + +"Would you be willing to testify against them--not upon the explosion, +which you didn't see, but upon their character?" + +Tom looked at Jake, Arkansas, and Bill, standing at the head of the +queue in charge of the two Pinkertons and a couple of policemen, and +struggled a moment with his thoughts. Ordinarily it was a point of +honor with a union man not to aid the law against a fellow member; but +this was not an ordinary case. The papers had thrown the whole blame for +the outrage upon the union. The union's innocence could be proved only +by fastening the blame upon Foley and the three prisoners. + +"I will," he consented. + +There was a tiresome wait for the judge. About ten o'clock he emerged +from his chambers and took his place upon his platform. He was a +cold-looking man, with an aristocratic face, deeply marked with lines of +hard justice, and with a time-tonsured pate. His enemies, and they were +many, declared his judgments ignored the law; his answer was that he +administered the law according to common sense, and not according to its +sometimes stupid letter. + +The bailiff opened the court, and the case of Jake, Arkansas, and Bill +was called. The two Pinkertons recited the details of the explosion and +the two policemen added details of the arrest. Then Mr. Baxter, looking +pale, but as much the self-controlled gentleman as ever, testified to +the damage done by the dynamite. The Avon still stood, but its steel +frame was so wrenched at the base that it was liable to fall at any +moment. The building would have to be reconstructed entirely. Though +much of the material could be used again, the loss, at a conservative +estimate, would be seventy-five thousand dollars. + +Tom came next before the judge's desk. Exclamations of surprise ran +among the union men in the room when it was seen Tom was to be a +witness, and the bailiff had to pound with his gavel and shout for +order. Tom testified that the three were known in the union as men ready +for any villainy; and he managed to introduce in his answers to the +questions enough to make it plain that the union was in no degree +responsible for the outrage, that it abhorred such acts, that +responsibility rested upon the three--"And someone else," he added +meaningly. + +"Who's that?" quickly demanded the court attorney. + +"Buck Foley." + +"I object!" shouted the prisoners' attorney. Foley, who sat back in the +crowd with crossed legs, did not alter his half-interested expression by +a wrinkle. + +"Objection over-ruled," said the judge. + +"Will you please tell what you know about Mr. Foley's connection with +the case," continued the court attorney. + +"I object, your Honor! Mr. Foley is not on trial." + +"It's the duty of this court to get at all the facts," returned the +judge. "Does the witness speak from his own knowledge, or what he +surmises?" + +"I'm absolutely certain he's at the bottom of this." + +"But is your evidence first-hand information?" + +"It is not," Tom had to confess. "But I couldn't be more certain if I +had seen him----" + +"Guess-work isn't evidence," cut in the judge. + +Tom, however, had attached Foley to the case--he had seen the reporters +start at his words as at a fresh sensation--and he gave a look of +satisfaction at Foley as he stepped away from the judge's desk. Foley +gave back a half-covered sneer, as if to say, "Just youse wait!" + +Arkansas was the first of the prisoners to be called--the reason for +which priority, as Tom afterwards guessed, being his anomalous face that +would not have ill-suited a vest that buttoned to the chin and a collar +that buttoned at the back. Arkansas, replying to the questions of his +long-haired attorney, corroborated the testimony of the policemen and +the Pinkertons in every detail. When Arkansas had answered the last +query the lawyer allowed several seconds to pass, his figure drawn up +impressively, his right hand in the breast of his frock coat. + +The judge bent over his docket and began to write. "This seems a +perfectly plain case. I hold the three prisoners for the grand jury, +each in ten thousand----" + +The attorney's right hand raised itself theatrically. "Hold!" he cried. + +The judge looked up with a start. Tom's eyes, wandering to Foley's face, +met there a malign grin. + +"The case is not ended, your Honor. The case is just begun." The +attorney brushed back his mane with a stagy movement of his hand, and +turned upon Arkansas. "You and the other prisoners did this. You do not +deny it. But now tell his Honor why you did it." + +Arkansas, with honesty fairly obtruding from his every feature, looked +nervously at Tom, and then said hesitantly: "Because we had to." + +"And why did you have to?" + +Again Arkansas showed hesitation. + +"Speak out," encouraged the attorney. "You're in no danger. The court +will protect you." + +"We was ordered to. If we hadn't done it we'd been thrown out o' the +union, an' been done up." + +"Explain to the court what you mean by 'done up'." + +"Slugged an' kicked--half killed." + +"In other words, what you did was done in fear of your life. Now who +ordered you to blow up the Avon, and threatened to have you 'done up' if +you didn't?" + +"Mr. Keating, the president o' the union." + +The judge, who had been leaning forward with kindling eyes, breathed a +prolonged "A-a-ah!" + +For a moment Tom was astounded. Then he sprang to Arkansas's side. "You +infernal liar!" he shouted, his eyes blazing. + +The judge's hammer thundered down. "Silence!" he roared. + +"But, your Honor, he's lying!" + +"Five dollars for contempt of court! Another word and I'll give you the +full penalty." + +Two officers jerked Tom back, and surging with indignant wrath he had to +listen in silence to the romance that had been spun for Arkansas's lips +and which he was now respinning for the court's ears; and he quickly +became aware that newspaper artists had set their pencils busy over his +face. Once, glancing at Jake, he was treated with a leer of triumph. + +Arkansas plausibly related what had passed between Tom and himself and +his two companions; and then Bill took the stand, and then Jake. Each +repeated the story Arkansas, with the help of his face, had made so +convincing. + +"And now, your Honor," the prisoners' attorney began when his evidence +was all in, "I think I have made plain my clients' part in this most +nefarious outrage. They are guilty--yes. But they were but the all too +weak instruments of another's will, who galvanized them by mortal fear +to do his dastardly bidding. He, he alone----" + +"Save your eloquence, councilor," the judge broke in. "The case speaks +best for itself. You here." He crooked his forefinger at Tom. + +Tom was pushed by policemen up before the judge. + +"Now what have you to say for yourself?" the judge demanded. + +"It's one string of infernal lies!" Tom exploded. And he launched into a +hot denial, strong in phrasing but weak in comparison with the +inter-corroborative stones of the three, which had the further +verisimilitude gained by tallying in every detail with the officers' +account of the explosion. + +"What you say is merely denial, the denial we hear from every criminal," +his Honor began when Tom had finished. "I do not say I believe every +word of the testimony of the three prisoners. But it is more credible +than your statements. + +"What has been brought out here to-day--the supreme officer of a union +compelling members to commit an act of violence by threat of economic +disablement and of physical injury, perhaps death--is in perfect accord +with the many diabolical practices that have recently been revealed as +existing among trade unions. It is such things as this that force all +right-minded men to regard trade unionism as the most menacing danger +which our nation now confronts." And for five minutes he continued in +his arraignment of trade unions. + +"In the present circumstances," he ended, "it is my duty to order the +arrest of this man who appears to be the chief conspirator--this +president of a union who has had the supreme hardihood to appear as a +witness against his own tools, doubtless hoping thereby to gain the end +of the thief who cried 'stop thief.' I hold him in fifteen thousand +dollars bond to await the action of the grand jury. The three prisoners +are held in five thousand dollars bail each." + +Jake, Bill, and Arkansas were led away by their captors, and Tom, +utterly dazed by this new disaster that had overtaken him when he had +thought there was nothing more that could befall, was shoved over to the +warrant clerk. And again he caught Foley's eyes; they were full of +malicious satisfaction. + +As he waited before the warrant clerk's desk he saw Mr. Baxter, on his +way to the door, brush by Foley, and in the moment of passing he saw +Foley's lips move. He did not hear Foley's words. They were two, and +were: "First round!" + +A few minutes later Tom was led down a stairway, through a corridor and +locked in a cell. + + + + +Chapter XX + +TOM HAS A CALLER + + +Late in the afternoon, as Tom lay stretched in glowering melancholy on +the greasy, dirt-browned board that did service as chair and bed to the +transitory tenants of the cell, steps paused in the corridor without and +a key rattled in his door. He rose dully out of his dejection. A +scowling officer admitted a man, round and short and with side whiskers, +and locked the door upon his back. + +"This is a pretty how-to-do!" growled the man, coming forward. + +Tom stared at his visitor. "Why, Mr. Driscoll!" he cried. + +"That's who the most of my friends say I am," the contractor admitted +gruffly. + +He deposited himself upon the bench that had seated and bedded so much +unwashed misfortune, and, his back against the cement wall, turned his +sour face about the bare room. "This is what I call a pretty poor sort +of hospitality to offer a visitor," he commented, in his surly voice. +"Not even a chair to sit on." + +"There is also the floor; you may take your choice," Tom returned, +nettled by the other's manner. He himself took the bench. + +Mr. Driscoll stared at him with blinking eyes, and he stared back +defiantly. In Tom's present mood of wrath and depression his temper was +tinder waiting another man's spark. + +"Huh!" Mr. Driscoll ran his pudgy forefinger easefully about between his +collar and his neck, and removing his spectacles mopped his purple face. +"What's this funny business you've been up to now?" he asked. + +"What do you mean?" Tom demanded, his irritation mounting. + +"You ought to read the papers and keep posted on what you do. I just saw +a _Star_. There's half a page of your face, and about a pint of red +ink." + +Tom groaned, and his jaws clamped ragefully. + +"What I read gave me the impression you'd been having a sort of private +Fourth of July celebration," Mr. Driscoll pursued. + +Tom turned on the contractor half savagely. "See here! I don't know what +you came here for, but if it was for this kind of talk--well, you can +guess how welcome you are!" + +Mr. Driscoll emitted a little chuckling sound, or Tom thought for an +instant he did. But a glance at that sour face, with its straight +pouting mouth, corrected Tom's ears. + +"Now, what was your fool idea in blowing up the Avon?" + +Tom uprose wrathfully. "Do you mean to say you believe the lies those +blackguards told this morning?" + +"I only know what I read in the papers." + +"If you swallow everything you see in the papers, you must have an awful +maw!" + +"Yes, I suppose you have got some sort of a story you put up." + +Tom glared at his pudgy visitor who questioned with such an exasperating +presumption. "Did I ask you here?" he demanded. + +The contractor's eyes snapped, and Tom expected hot words. But none +came. "Don't get hot under the collar," Mr. Driscoll advised, running +his comforting finger under his own. "Come, what's your side of the +story?" + +Tom was of half a mind to give a curt refusal. But his wrong was too +great, too burning, for him to keep silent upon it. He would have talked +of it to any one--to his very walls. He took a turn in the cell, then +paused before his old employer and hotly explained his innocence and +Foley's guilt. + +While Tom spoke Mr. Driscoll's head nodded excitedly. + +"Just what I said!" he cried when Tom ended, and brought his fist down +on his knee. "Well, we'll show him!" + +"Show him what?" Tom asked. + +Mr. Driscoll stopped his fist midway in another excited descent. He +stood up, for he saw the officer's scowling face at the grated front of +the cell. "Oh, a lot of things before he dies. As for you, keep your +courage up. What else's it for?" + +He held out his hand. Tom took it with bewildered perfunctoriness. + +Mr. Driscoll passed through the door, held open by the officer. Outside +he turned about and growled through the bars: "Now don't be blowing up +any more buildings!" + +Tom, stung anew, would have retorted in kind, but Mr. Driscoll's +footsteps had died away down the corridor before adequate words came to +him. + +It was about an hour later that the officer appeared before his cell +again and unlocked his door. "Come on," he said shortly. + +Tom, supposing he was at length to be removed to the county jail, put on +his hat and stepped outside the cell. He had expected to find policemen +in the corridor, and to be handcuffed. But the officer was alone. + +Two cells away he saw Jake's malignant face peering at him through the +bars. "I guess this puts us about even!" Jake called out. + +Tom shook his fist. "Wait till the trial! We'll see!" he cried +vengefully. + +"Shut up, youse!" shouted the surly watchman. He pushed Tom through the +corridor and up a stairway. At its head Tom was guided through a door, +and found himself in the general hall of the police station. + +"Here youse are," said the officer, starting for the sergeant's desk. +"Come on and sign the bail bond." + +Tom caught his arm. "What's this mean?" he cried. + +"Don't youse know? Youse're bailed out." + +"Bailed out! Who by?" + +"Didn't he tell youse?" Surprise showed in the crabbed face of the +officer. "Why, before he done anything he went down to talk it over with +youse." + +"Not Mr. Driscoll?" + +"I don't know his name. That red-faced old geezer in the glasses. +Huh!--his coin comes easier'n mine." + +Tom put his name to the bond, already signed by Mr. Driscoll, and +stumbled out into the street, half blinded by the rush of sunlight into +his cell-darkened eyes, and struck through with bewilderment at his +unexpected liberation. He threw off a number of quizzing reporters, who +had got quick news of his release, and walked several aimless blocks +before he came back to his senses. Then he set out for Mr. Driscoll's +office, almost choking with emotion at the prospect of meeting Ruth +again. But he reached it too late to spend his thanks or to test his +self-control. It was past six and the office was locked. + +He started home, and during the car ride posted himself upon his recent +doings by reading the accounts of the trial and his part in the Avon +outrage. On reaching the block in which he lived he hesitated long +before he found the courage to go up to the ordeal of telling Maggie his +last misfortune. When he entered his flat it was to find it empty. He +sat down at the window, with its backyard view of clothes-lines and of +fire-escape landings that were each an open-air pantry, and rehearsed +the sentences with which he should break the news to her, his suspense +mounting as the minutes passed. At length her key sounded in the lock, +he heard her footsteps, then saw her dim shape come into the +sitting-room. + +In the same instant she saw him at the window. "What--Tom!" she cried, +with the tremulous relief of one who ends a great suspense. + +He had been nerving himself to face another mood than this. He was taken +aback by the unexpected note in her voice--a sympathetic note he had not +heard for such a time it seemed he had never heard it at all. + +He rose, embarrassed. "Yes," he said. + +She had come quickly to his side, and now caught his arm. "You are here, +Tom?" + +"Why, yes," he answered, still dazed and at a loss. "Where have you +been, Maggie?" + +Had the invading twilight not half blindfolded him, Tom could have seen +the rapid change that took place in Maggie's face--the relief at finding +him safe yielding to the stronger emotion beneath it. When she answered +her voice was as of old. "Been? Where haven't I been? To the jail the +last place." + +"To the jail?" He was again surprised. "Then ... you know all?" + +"Know all?" She laughed harshly, a tremolo beneath the harshness. "How +could I help knowing all? The newsboys yelling down in the street! The +neighbors coming in with their sympathy!" She did not tell him how to +these visitors she had hotly defended his innocence. + +"I didn't know you were at the police station," he said weakly, still at +a loss. + +"Of course not. When I got there they told me you'd been let out." Her +breath was coming rapidly, deeply. "What a time I had! I didn't know +how to get to the jail! Dragging myself all over town! Those awful +papers everywhere! Everybody looking at me and guessing who I was! Oh, +the disgrace! The disgrace!" + +"But, Maggie, I didn't do this!" + +"The world don't know that!" The rage and despair that had been held in +check all afternoon by her concern for him now completely mastered her. +"We're disgraced! You've been in jail! You're now only out on bail! +Fifteen thousand dollars bail! Why that boss, Mr. Driscoll, went on it, +heaven only knows! You're going to be tried. Even if you get off we'll +never hear the last of it. Hadn't we had trouble enough? Now it's +disgrace! And why's this come on us? You tell me that!" + +She was shaking all over, and for her to speak was a struggle with her +sobs. She supported herself with arms on the table, and looked at him +fiercely, wildly, through the dim light. + +Tom took her arm. "Sit down, Maggie," he said, and tried to push her +into a chair. + +She repulsed him. "Answer me. Why has this trouble come on us?" + +He was silent. + +"Oh, you know! Because you wouldn't take a little advice from your wife! +Other men got along with Foley and held their jobs. But you wanted to be +different; you wanted to fight Foley. Well, you've had your way; you've +fought him. And what of it? We're ruined! Disgraced! You're working for +less than half what you used to get. We're ashamed to show our faces in +the street. All because you wouldn't pay any attention to me. And +me--how I've got to suffer for it! Oh, my God! My God!" + +Tom recognized the justice, from her point of view, in her wild phrases +and did not try to dispute her. He again tried to push her into a chair. + +She threw off his hand, and went hysterically on, now beating her +knuckles upon the table. "Leave me alone! I've made up my mind about one +thing. You won't listen to reason. I've given you good advice. I've been +right every time. You've paid no attention to me and we're ruined! Well, +I've made up my mind. If you do this sort of thing again, I'll lock you +out of the house! D'you hear? I'll lock you out of the house!" + +She fell of her own accord into a chair, and with her head in her hands +abandoned herself to sobbing. Tom looked at her silently. In a narrow +way, she was right. In a broad way, he knew he was right. But he could +not make her understand, so there was nothing he could say. Presently he +noticed that her hair had loosened and her hat had fallen over one +cheek. With unaccustomed hands he took out the pins and laid the hat +upon the table. She gave no sign that she had noted the act.... Her sobs +became fewer and less violent. + +Tom quietly lit the gas. "Where's Ferdinand?" he asked, in his ordinary +voice. + +"I left him with Mrs. Jones," she answered through her hands. + +When Tom came back with the boy she was in the kitchen, a big apron over +her street dress, beginning the dinner. Tom looked in upon her, then +obeying an impulse long unstirred he began to set the table. She +glanced furtively at this unusual service, but said nothing. She sat +through the meal with hard face, but did not again refer to the day's +happenings; and, since the day was Wednesday, as soon as he had eaten +Tom hurried away to Potomac Hall. + +Tom was surrounded by friends the minute he entered the hall. The ten +o'clock edition of the evening papers, out before seven, had acquainted +them with his release. The accounts in this edition played up the +anomaly of this labor ruffian, shown by his act to be the arch-enemy of +the employers, being bailed out by one of the very contractors with whom +the union was at war. Two of the papers printed interviews with Mr. +Driscoll upon the question, why had he done it? One interview was, "I +don't know"; the other, "None of your business." + +Tom's friends had the curiosity of the papers, and put to him the +question the news sheets had put to Mr. Driscoll. "If Mr. Driscoll don't +know, how can I?" was all the answer he could give them. Their +curiosity, however, was weak measured by their indignation over the turn +events had taken in the court-room. They would stand by him at his +trial, they declared, and show what his relations had been with Jake, +Bill and Arkansas. + +Before the meeting was opened there was talk among the Foleyites against +Tom being allowed to preside, but he ended their muttering by marching +to his table and pounding the union to order. He immediately took the +floor and in a speech filled with charges against Foley gave to the +union his side of the facts that had already been presented them from a +different viewpoint in the papers. When he ended Foley's followers +looked to their chief to make reply, but Foley kept his seat. Connelly, +seeing it his duty to defend his leader, was rising to his feet when a +glance from Foley made him sink back into his chair. The talk from Tom's +side went hotly on for a time, but, meeting with no resistance, and +having no immediate purpose, it dwindled away. + +The union then turned to matters pertaining to the management of the +strike. As the discussion went on followers of Foley slipped quietly +about the hall whispering in the ears of their brethren. The talk became +tedious. Tom's friends, wearied and uninterested, sat in silence. +Foleyites spoke at great length upon unimportant details. Foley himself +made a long speech, the like of which had never before come from him, it +was that dull and purposeless. At half-past ten, by which time the men +usually were restless to be out of the hall and bound toward their beds, +adjournment seemed as far off as at eight. Sleepy and bored by the +stupid discussion, members began to go out, and most of those that left +were followers of Tom. The pointless talk went on; men kept slipping +out. At twelve o'clock not above two hundred were in the hall, and of +these not two dozen were Tom's friends. + +Tom saw Foley cast his eyes over the thinned crowd, and then give a +short nod at Connelly. The secretary stood up and claimed Tom's +recognition. + +"Mr. President, I move we suspend the constitution." + +The motion was instantly seconded. Tom promptly ruled it out of order, +on the ground that it was unconstitutional to suspend the constitution. +But he was over-ruled, only a score siding with him. The motion was put +and was carried by the same big majority that had voted against his +decision. + +Connelly rose a second time. "I make a motion that we remove the +president from office on the charge that he is the instigator of an +outrage that has blackened the fair name of our union before all the +world." + +A hundred voices cried a second to the motion. Tom rose and looked with +impotent wrath into the faces of the crowd from which Foley's cunning +had removed his followers. Then he tossed the gavel upon the table. + +"I refuse to put the motion!" he shouted; and picking up his hat he +strode down the middle aisle. Half-way to the door he heard Connelly, in +the absence of the vice-president, put the motion; and turning as he +passed out he glimpsed the whole crowd on its feet. + +The next morning Tom saw by his newspaper that Connelly was the union's +new president; also that he had been dropped from the strike committee, +Hogan now being in his place. The reports in the papers intimated that +the union had partially exonerated itself by its prompt discardure of +the principal in the Avon explosion. The editorial pages expressed +surprise that the notorious Foley bore no relation to an outrage that +seemed a legitimate offspring of his character. + +Tom had not been at work more than an hour when a boy brought him word +that the superintendent of the shipping department desired to see him. +He hurried to his superior's office. + +"You were not at work yesterday?" the superintendent said. + +"No," Tom admitted. + +The head of the department drew a morning paper from a pigeon-hole and +pointed at a face on its first page. "Your likeness, I believe." + +"It was intended for me." + +He touched a button, and a clerk appeared. "Phillips, make out Keating's +time check." He turned sharply back upon Tom. "That's all. We've got no +use for anarchists in our business." + + + + +Chapter XXI + +WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN + + +When Ruth carried a handful of letters she had just finished into Mr. +Driscoll's office--this while he sat talking to Tom in the latter's +cell--she saw staring luridly at her from the desk the newspaper that +had sent her employer to the jail on his errand of gruff mercy. There +was a great drawing of Tom's face, brutalized, yet easily recognizable, +and over it the heavy crimson heading: + + TOOLS UNION PRESIDENT + OF + + FORCED BY BLEW UP THE AVON + DEATH THREATS + +The stare of that brutal face and of those red words sent her sinking +into Mr. Driscoll's chair, and the letters fluttered to the floor. After +a moment she reached in eager revulsion for the paper, and her eyes +reeled through the high-colored account of the court scene. What was +printed there was the newest of news to her; she had lunched early, and +the paper she had bought to learn the latest developments in the Avon +case had carried her only to the beginning of the trial. As she read, a +dizzy sickness ran through all her body. The case against Tom, as the +papers made it out, was certainly strong; and the fact that he, the +instigator of the outrage, had attempted to escape blame by seeking to +help convict his own tools was emphasized as the most blackening phase +of the whole black affair. But strong as the case appeared, within her +sickened, bewildered self there was something that protested the story +could not possibly be true. + +During the weeks that had passed since she had last seen Tom she had +wondered much that he had not come again, guessing every reason but the +right one. When ten days had passed without a visit from him she had +concluded that he must be too busy in the management of the strike to +spare an evening; she did not know how completely Tom had been crowded +off the stage by Foley. When more days had passed, and still no call +from him, her subtle woman's nature had supplied another reason, and one +that was a sufficient explanation to her even to the present. She knew +what Tom's feelings were toward her; a woman needs precious little +insight to discover when a man loves her. For all her instinctive +democracy, she was perfectly conscious of the social difference between +herself and him, and with not unnatural egotism she endowed Tom with the +same consciousness. He loved her, but felt their social inequality, and +felt it with such keenness that he deemed it hopeless to try to win her, +and so had decided to see her no more. + +Such was her explanation of his absence. She pitied him with a warm +romantic pity for his renunciation. Held away by such a reason, she knew +that if ever he came it must be at her bidding. At times she had been +impelled to send for him to come. To her this was not an impulse of +prohibitive unmaidenliness; she could bend to a man who thought himself +beneath her as she never could to a man on her own level. But she had +not sent. To do so without being prepared to give him what he desired +would be to do him a great wrong, and to give him this she was neither +able nor ready. She admired all that was good in him; but she could not +blind her eyes to his shortcomings, and to go into his world, with its +easily imagined coarseness, with its ignorance of books and music and +painting, and all the little refinements that were dear to her, she +could not. And yet her heart had ached that he had not come. + +But now as she read the story of his disgrace, and as the reflux of wits +and strength began, all her heart was one protest of his innocence, and +she forgot all the little differences that had before halted her desire +to see him; and this desire, freed of its checks, suddenly expanded till +it filled the uttermost recesses of her soul. + +Her first impulse, when she had reached the story's end, was to go +straight to him, and she went so far as to put on her hat. But reason +stopped her at the door. She could do him no good, and her call would be +but an embarrassment to them both. She removed her hat, and sat down to +surging thoughts. + +She was sitting at her desk, white and weak, reading anew the lurid +story in the paper, when Mr. Driscoll passed through her room into his +office with hat drawn over his eyes. She looked through his open door +for several minutes--and then, obeying the desire for the relief of +speech, she went in. + +"Did you see this article about Mr. Keating?" she asked, trying to keep +her personal interest in Tom from showing in her voice. + +Mr. Driscoll's hat brim was still over his eyes. He did not look up. +"Yes," he said gruffly. + +"You remember him, don't you?--one of the foremen?" + +The hat brim moved affirmatively. + +She had to summon all her strength to put her next question with +calmness. "What will be done with him?" + +"I don't know. Blowing up buildings isn't a very innocent amusement." + +"But he didn't do it!" + +"He didn't? Hum!" + +Ruth burned to make a hot defense. But instead she asked: "Do you think +he's the sort of a man to do a thing of that sort? He says he didn't." + +"What d'you suppose he'd say?" + +She checked her rising wrath. "But what do you think will be done with +him?" + +"Hung," growled Mr. Driscoll. + +She glared at him, but his hat brim shielded off her resentment; and +without another word she swept indignantly out of the room. + +Ruth went home in that weakening anxiety which is most felt by the +helpless. On the way she bought an evening paper, but there was nothing +new in it. After a dinner hardly touched she went into the street and +got a ten o'clock edition. It had the story of Tom's release on bail. + +"Why, the dear old bear!" she gasped, as she discovered that Mr. +Driscoll had gone Tom's bond. She hurried to her room and in utter +abandonment to her emotion wrote Tom a note asking him to call the +following evening. + +The next morning Tom, discharged but half an hour before, walked into +Ruth's office. He had stood several minutes in front of the building +before he had gained sufficient control to carry him through the certain +meeting with her. She went red at sight of him, and rose in a throbbing +confusion, but subdued herself to greet him with a friendly cordiality. + +"It's been a long time since I've seen you," she said, giving him her +hand. It was barely touched, then dropped. + +"Yes. I've been--very--busy," Tom mumbled, his big chest heaving. It +seemed that his mind, his will, were slipping away from him. He seized +his only safety. "Is Mr. Driscoll in?" + +"Yes." Suddenly chilled, she went into Mr. Driscoll's room. "He says +he's too busy to see you," she said on her return; and then a little of +her greeting smile came back: "But I think you'd better go in, anyhow." + +As Tom entered Mr. Driscoll looked up with something that was meant to +be a scowl. He had had one uncomfortable scene already that morning. +"Didn't I say I was busy?" he asked sharply. + +"I was told you were. But you didn't think I'd go away without thanking +you?" + +"It's a pity a man can't make a fool of himself without being slobbered +over. Well, if you've got to, out with it! But cut it short." + +Tom expressed his thanks warmly, and obediently made them brief. "But I +don't know what you did it for?" he ended. + +"About fifty reporters have been asking that same thing." + +The telephone in Ruth's office began to ring. He waited expectantly. + +"Mr. Bobbs wants to speak to you," said Ruth, appearing at the door. + +"Tell him I'm out--or dead," he ordered, and went on to Tom: "And he's +about the seventeenth contractor that's asked the same question, and +tried to walk on my face. Maybe because I don't love Foley. I don't know +myself. A man goes out of his head now and then, I suppose." His eyes +snapped crossly. + +"If you're sorry this morning, withdraw the bail and I'll----" + +"Don't you try to be a fool, too! All I ask of you is, don't skip town, +and don't blow up any more buildings." + +Tom gave his word, smiling into the cross face; and was withdrawing, +when Mr. Driscoll stood up. "When this strike you started is over come +around to see me." He held out his hand; his grasp was warm and tight. +"Good-by." + +Tom, having none of that control and power of simulation which are given +by social training, knew of but one way to pass safely by the danger +beyond Mr. Driscoll's door. He hurried across Ruth's office straight for +the door opening into the hallway. He had his hand on the knob, when he +felt how brutal was his discourtesy. He turned his head. Ruth sat +before the typewriter, her white face on him. + +"Good-by," he said. + +She did not answer, and he went dazedly out. + +Ruth sat in frozen stillness for long after he had gone. This new +bearing of Tom toward her fitted her explanation for his long +absence--and did not fit it. If he had renounced her, though loving her, +he probably would have borne himself in the abrupt way he had just done. +And he might have acted in just this same way had he come to be +indifferent to her. This last was the chilling thought. If he had +received her letter then his abrupt manner could mean only that this +last thought struck the truth. When she had written him she had been +certain of his feeling for her; that certainty now changed to +uncertainty, she would have given half her life to have called the +letter back with unbroken seal. + +She told herself that he would not come,--told herself this as she +automatically did her work, as she rode home in the car, as she made +weak pretense of eating dinner. And yet, after dinner, she put on the +white dress that his eyes had told her he liked so well. And later, when +Mr. Berman's card was brought her, she sent down word that she was ill. + +Presently ... he came. He did not speak when she opened the door to him, +nor did she. There was an unmastering fever burning in his throat and +through all his body; and all her inner self was the prisoner of a +climacteric paralysis. They held hands for a time, laxly, till one +loosed, and then both swung limply back to their places. + +"I just got your letter to-night--when I got home," he said, driving out +the words. But he said nothing of his struggle: how he had fought back +his longing and determined not to come; and how, the victory won, he had +madly thrown wisdom aside and rushed to her. + +They found seats, somehow, she in a chair, he on the green couch, and +sat in a silence their heart-beats seemed to make sonant. She was the +first to recover somewhat, and being society bred and so knowing the +necessity of speech, she questioned him about his arrest. + +He started out on the story haltingly. But little by little his fever +lost its invalidating control, and little by little the madness in his +blood, the madness that had forced him hither, possessed his brain and +tongue, and the words came rapidly, with spirit. Finishing the story of +his yesterday he harked back to the time he had last seen her, and told +her what had happened in the second part of that evening in the hall +over the Third Avenue saloon; told her how Foley had stolen the strike; +how he had declined to his present insignificance. And as he talked he +eagerly drank in her sympathy, and loosed himself more and more to the +enjoyment of the mad pleasure of being with her. To her his words were +not the account of the more or less sordid experiences of a workingman; +they were the story of the reverses of the hero who, undaunted, has +given battle to one whom all others have dared not, or cared not, fight. + +"What will you do now?" she asked when he had ended. + +"I don't know. Foley says he has me down and out--if you know what that +means." + +She nodded. + +"I guess he's about right. Not many people want to hire men who blow up +buildings. I had thought I'd work at whatever I could till October--our +next election's then--and run against Foley again. But if he wins the +strike he may be too strong to beat." + +"But do you think he'll win the strike?" + +"He'll be certain to win, though this explosion will injure us a lot. +He's in for the strike for all he's worth, and when he fights his best +he's hard to beat. The bosses can't get enough iron-men to keep their +jobs going. That's already been proved. And in a little while all the +other trades will catch up to where we left off; they'll have to stop +then, for they can't do anything till our work's been done. That'll be +equivalent to a general strike in all the building trades. We'll be +losing money, of course, but so'll the bosses. The side'll win that can +hold out longest, and we're fixed to hold out." + +"According to all the talk I hear the victory is bound to go the +opposite way." + +"Well, you know some people then who'll be mighty disappointed!" Tom +returned. + +She did not take him up, and silence fell between them. Thus far their +talk had been of the facts of their daily lives, and though it had been +unnatural in that it was far from the matter in both their hearts, yet +by help of its moderate distraction they had managed to keep their +feelings under control. But now, that distraction ended, Tom's fever +began to burn back upon him. He sat rigidly upright, his eyes avoiding +her face, and the fever flamed higher and higher. Ruth gazed whitely at +him, hands gripped in her lap, her faculties slipping from her, waiting +she hardly knew what. Minutes passed, and the silence between them grew +intenser and more intense. + +Amid her throbbing dizziness Ruth's mind held steadily to just two +thoughts: she was again certain of Tom's love, and certain that his +pride would never allow him to speak. These two thoughts pointed her the +one thing there was for her to do; the one thing that must be done for +both their sakes--and finally she forced herself to say: "It has been a +long time since you have been to see me. I had thought you had quite +forgotten me." + +"I have thought of you often?" he managed to return, eyes still fixed +above her, his self-control tottering. + +"But in a friendly way?--No.--Or you would not have been silent through +two months." + +His eyes came down and fastened upon that noble face, and the words +escaped by the guard he tried to keep at his lips: "I have never had a +friend like you." + +She waited. + +"You are my best friend," the words continued. + +She waited again, but he said nothing more. + +She drove herself on. "And yet you could--stay away two months?--till I +sent for you?" + +He stood up, and walked to the window and stood as if looking through +it--though the shade was drawn. She saw the fingers at his back writhing +and knotting themselves. She waited, unwinking, hardly breathing, all +her life in the tumultuous beating of her heart. + +He turned about. His face was almost wild. "I stayed away--because I +love you----" His last word was a gasp, and he did not have the strength +to say the rest. + +It had come! Her great strain over, she fairly collapsed in a swooning +happiness. Her head drooped, and she swayed forward till her elbows were +on her knees. For a moment she existed only in her great, vague, reeling +joy. Then she heard a spasmodic gasp, and heard his hoarse words add: + +"And because--I am married." + +Her head uprose slowly, and she looked at him, looked at him, with a +deadly stupefaction in her eyes. A sickening minute passed. "Married?" +she whispered. + +"Yes--married." + +A terrified pallor overspread her face, but the face held fixedly to his +own. He stood rigid, looking at her. Her strange silence began to alarm +him. + +"What is it?" he cried. + +Her face did not change, and seconds passed. Suddenly a gasp, then a +little groan, broke from her. + +"Married!" she cried. + +For a moment he was astounded; then he began dimly to understand. "What, +you don't mean----" he commenced, with dry lips. He moved, with +uncertain steps, up before her. "You don't--care for me?" + +The head bowed a trifle. + +"Oh, my God!" He half staggered backward into a chair, and his face fell +into his hands. He saw, in an agonizing vision, what might have been +his, and what never could be his; and he saw the wide desert of his +future. + +"You!" He heard her voice, and he looked up. + +She was on her feet, and was standing directly in front of him. Her +hands were clenched upon folds of her skirt. Her breath was coming +rapidly. Her eyes were flashing. + +"You! How could you come to see me as you have, and you married?" She +spoke tremulously, fiercely, and at the last her voice broke into a sob. +Tears ran down her cheeks, but she did not heed them. + +Tom's face dropped back into his hands; he could not stand the awful +accusation of that gaze. She was another victim of his tragedy, an +innocent victim--and _his_ victim. He saw in a flash the whole ghastly +part he, in ignorance, had played. A groan burst from his lips, and he +writhed in his self-abasement. + +"How could you do it?" he heard her fiercely demand again. "Oh, you! +you!" He heard her sweep across the little room, and then sweep back; +and he knew she was standing before him, gazing down at him in anguish, +anger, contempt. + +He groaned again. "What can I say to you--what?" + +There was silence. He could feel her eyes, unchanging, still on him. +Presently he began to speak into his hands, in a low, broken voice. "I +can make no excuse. I don't know that I can explain. But I never +intended to do this. Never! Never! + +"You know how we met, how we came to be together the first two or three +times. Afterwards ... I said awhile ago that you were my best friend. I +have had few real friends--none but you who sympathized with me, who +seemed to understand me. Well, afterwards I came because--I never +stopped to think why I came. I guess because you understood, and I liked +you. And so I came. As a man might come to see a good man friend. And I +never once thought I was doing wrong. And I never thought of my +wife--that is, you understand, that she made it wrong for me to see you. +I never thought----If you believe in me at all, you must believe this. +You must! And then--one day--I saw you with another man, and I knew I +loved you. I awoke. I saw what I ought to do. I tried to do it--but it +was very hard--and I came to see you again--the last time. I said once +more I would not see you again. It was still hard, very hard--but I did +not. And then--your letter--came----" + +His words dwindled away. Then, after a moment, he said very humbly: +"Perhaps I don't just understand how to be a gentleman." + +Again silence. Presently he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He +raised his eyes. She was still gazing at him, her face very white, but +no anger in it. + +"I understand," she said. + +He rose--weak. "I can't ask that you forgive me." + +"No. Not now." + +"Of course. I have meant to you only grief--pain. And can mean only that +to you, always." + +She did not deny his words. + +"Of course," he agreed. Then he stood, without words, unmoving. + +"You had better go," she said at length. + +He took his hat mechanically. "The future?" + +"You were right." + +"You mean--we should not meet again?" + +"This is the last time." + +Again he stood silent, unmoving. + +"You had better go," she said. "Good-night." + +"Good-night." + +He moved sideways to the door, his eyes never leaving her. He paused. +She stood just as she had since she had touched his shoulder. He moved +back to her, as in a trance. + +"No." She held up a hand, as if to ward him off. + +He took the hand--and the other hand. They were all a-tremble. And he +bent down, slowly, toward her face that he saw as in a mist. The face +did not recede. Their cold lips met. At the touch she collapsed, and the +next instant she was sobbing convulsively in his arms. + + * * * * * + +And all that night she lay dressed on her couch.... And all that night +he walked the streets. + + + + +Chapter XXII + +THE PROGRESS OF THE STRIKE + + +When morning began to creep into the streets, and while it was yet only +a dingy mist, Tom slipped quietly into his flat and stretched his +wearied length upon the couch, his anguish subdued to an aching numbness +by his lone walk. He lay for a time, his eyes turned dully into the back +yard, watching the dirty light grow cleaner; and presently he sank into +a light sleep. After a little his eyes opened and he saw Maggie looking +intently at him from their bedroom door. + +For a moment the two of them maintained a silent gaze. Then she asked: +"You were out all night?" + +"Yes," he answered passively. + +"Why?" + +He hesitated. "I was walking about--thinking." + +"I should think you would be thinking! After what happened to you +Wednesday, and after losing your job yesterday!" + +He did not correct her misinterpretation of his answer, and as he said +nothing more she turned back into the bedroom, and soon emerged dressed. +As she moved about preparing breakfast his eyes rested on her now and +then, and in a not unnatural selfishness he dully wondered why they two +were married. Her feeling for him, he knew, was of no higher sort than +that attachment which dependence upon a man and the sense of being +linked to him for life may engender in an unspiritual woman. There was +no love between them; they had no ideas in common; she was not this, and +not this, and not this. And all the things that she was not, the other +was. And it was always to be Maggie that he was to see thus intimately. + +He had bowed to the situation as the ancients bowed to fate--accepted it +as a fact as unchangeable as death that has fallen. And yet, as he lay +watching her, thinking it was to be always so,--always!--his soul was +filled with agonizing rebellion; and so it was to be through many a day +to come. But later, as his first pain began to settle into an aching +sense of irreparable loss, his less selfish vision showed him that +Maggie was no more to blame for their terrible mistake than he, and not +so much; and that she, in a less painful degree, was also a pitiable +victim of their error. He became consciously considerate of her. For her +part, she at first marveled at this gentler manner, then slowly yielded +to it. + +But this is running ahead. The first days were all the harder to Tom +because he had no work to share his time with his pain. He did not seek +another position; as he had told Ruth, he knew it would be useless to +ask for work so long as the charge of being a dynamiter rested upon him. +He walked about the streets, trying to forget his pain in mixing among +his old friends, with no better financial hope than to wait till the +court had cleared his name. Several times he met Pig Iron Pete, who, +knowing only the public cause for Tom's dejection, prescribed a few +drinks as the best cure for such sorrow, and showed his faith in his +remedy by offering to take the same medicine. And one evening he brought +his cheerless presence to the Barrys'. "Poor fellow!" sighed Mrs. Barry +after he had gone. "He takes his thumps hard." + +One day as he walked about the streets he met Petersen, and with the +Swede was a stocky, red-faced, red-necked man wearing a red necktie +whose brilliance came to a focus in a great diamond pin. Petersen had +continued to call frequently after nightly attendance had become +unnecessary. Two weeks before Tom had gleaned from him by hard +questioning that the monthly rent of twelve dollars was overdue, the +landlord was raging, there was nothing with which to pay, and also +nothing in the house to eat. The next day Tom had drawn fifteen dollars +from his little bank account, and held it by him to give to Petersen +when he next called. But he had not come again. Now on seeing him Tom's +first feeling was of guilt that he had not carried the needed money to +Petersen's home. + +The stocky man, when he saw the two were friends, withdrew himself to +the curb and began to clean his nails with his pocket knife. "How are +you, Petersen?" Tom asked. + +"I'm purty good," Petersen returned, glancing restlessly at the stocky +man. + +"You don't need a little money, do you?" Tom queried anxiously. + +"No. I'm vorkin'." He again looked restlessly at his manicuring friend. + +"You don't say! That's good. What at?" + +Petersen's restlessness became painful. "At de docks." + +Tom saw plainly that Petersen was anxious to get away, so he said +good-by and walked on, puzzled by the Swede's strange manner, by his +rather unusual companion, and puzzled also as to how his work as +longshoreman permitted him to roam the streets in the middle of the +afternoon. + +When Tom met friends in his restless wanderings and stopped to talk to +them, the subject was usually the injustice he had suffered or the +situation regarding the strike. Up to the day of the Avon explosion the +union as a whole had been satisfied with the strike's progress. That +event, of course, had weakened the strikers' cause before the public. +But the promptness with which the union was credited to have renounced +the instigator of the outrage partially restored the ironworkers to +their position. They were completely restored three days after the +explosion, when Mr. Baxter, smarting under his recent loss and not being +able to retaliate directly upon Foley, permitted himself to be induced +by a newspaper to express his sentiments upon labor unions. The +interview was an elaboration of the views which are already partly known +to the reader. By reason of the rights which naturally belong to +property, he said, by reason of capital's greatly superior intelligence, +it was the privilege of capital, nay even its duty, to arrange the +uttermost detail of its affairs without any consultation whatever with +labor, whose views were always selfish and necessarily always +unintelligent. The high assumption of superiority in Mr. Baxter's +interview, its paternalistic, even monarchical, character, did not +appeal to his more democratic and less capitalized readers, and they +drew nearer in sympathy to the men he was fighting. + +As the last days of May passed one by one, Tom's predictions to Ruth +began to have their fulfillment. By the first of June a great part of +the building in the city was practically at a standstill; the other +building trades had caught up with the ironworkers on many of the jobs, +and so had to lay down their tools. The contractors in these trades were +all checked more or less in their work. Their daily loss quickly +overcame their natural sympathy with the iron contractors and Mr. Baxter +was beset by them. "We haven't any trouble with our men," ran the gist +of their complaint. "Why should we be losing money just because you and +your men can't agree? For God's sake, settle it up so we can get to +work!" + +Owners of buildings in process of construction, with big sums tied up in +them, began to grow frantic. Their agreements with the contractors +placed upon the latter a heavy fine for every day the completion of the +buildings was delayed beyond the specified time; but the contracts +contained a "strike clause" which exempted the bosses from penalties for +delays caused by strikes. And so the loss incurred by the present delay +fell solely upon the owners. "Settle this up somehow," they were +constantly demanding of Mr. Baxter. "You've delayed my building a month. +There's a month's interest on my money, and my natural profits for a +month, both gone to blazes!" + +To all of these Mr. Baxter's answer was in substance the same: "The day +the union gives up, on that day the strike is settled." And this he said +with unchangeable resolution showing through his voice. The bosses and +owners went away cursing and looking hopelessly upon an immediate future +whose only view to them was a desert of loss. + +But Mr. Baxter did not have in his heart the same steely decision he had +in his manner. Events had not taken just the course he had foreseen. The +division in the union, on which he had counted for its fall, had been +mended by the subsidence of Tom. The union's resources were almost +exhausted, true, but it was receiving some financial assistance from its +national organization, and its fighting spirit was as strong as ever. If +the aid of the national organization continued to be given, and if the +spirit of the men remained high, Mr. Baxter realized that the union +could hold out indefinitely. The attempt to replace the strikers by +non-union men had been a failure; Mr. Driscoll and himself were the only +contractors who still maintained the expensive farce of keeping a few +scabs at work. And despite his surface indifference to it, the pressure +of the owners of buildings and of the bosses in other trades had a +little effect upon Mr. Baxter, and more than a little upon some other +members of the Executive Committee. A few of the employers were already +eager to yield to the strikers' demand, preferring decreased profits to +a long period of none at all; but when Mr. Isaacs attempted to voice the +sentiments of these gentlemen in a meeting of the Executive Committee, a +look from Mr. Baxter's steady gray eyes was enough to close him up +disconcerted. + +So Buck Foley was not without a foundation in fact for his hopeful words +when he said in his report to the union at the first meeting in June: +"The only way we can lose this strike, boys, is to give it away." + +Which remark might be said, by one speaking from the vantage of later +events, to have been a bit of unconscious prophecy. + + + + +Chapter XXIII + +THE TRIUMPH OF BUSINESS SENSE + + +Mr. Baxter had to withstand pressure from still another source--from +himself. His business sense, as had owners and contractors, demanded of +him an immediate settlement of the strike. In its frequent debates with +him it was its habit to argue by repeating the list of evils begotten by +the strike, placing its emphasis on his losses that promised to continue +for months to come. Unlike most reformers and other critics of the +_status quo_, Mr. Baxter's business sense was not merely destructive; it +offered a practicable plan for betterment--a plan that guaranteed +victory over the strikers and required only the sacrifice of his pride. + +But Mr. Baxter's pride refused to be sacrificed. His business sense had +suggested the plan shortly after the union had voted to strike. He would +have adopted the plan immediately, as the obvious procedure in the +situation, had it not been for the break with Foley. But the break had +come, and his pride could not forget that last visit of Foley to his +private office; it had demanded that the walking delegate be +humiliated--utterly crushed. His business sense, from the other side, +had argued the folly of allowing mere emotion to stand in the way of +victory and the profitable resumption of work. Outraged pride had been +the stronger during April and May, but as the possibility of its +satisfaction had grown less and less as May had dragged by, the pressure +of his business sense had become greater and greater. And the Avon +explosion had given business sense a further chance to greaten. "Try the +plan at once," it had exhorted; "if you don't, Foley may do it again." +However, for all the pressure of owners and contractors and of his +business sense--owners and contractors urging any sort of settlement, so +that it be a settlement, business sense urging its own private plan--in +the early days of June Mr. Baxter continued to present the same +appearance of wall-like firmness. But his firmness was that of a dam +that can sustain a pressure of one hundred, and is bearing a pressure of +ninety-nine with its habitual show of eternal fixedness. + +Mr. Baxter had to withstand pressure from yet another source--from his +wife. When he had told her in early May that the strike was not going to +be settled as quickly as he had first thought, and had asked her to +practice such temporary economy as she could, she had acquiesced +graciously but with an aching heart; and instead of going to Europe as +she had intended, she and her daughter had run up to Tuxedo, where with +two maids, carriage, and coachman, they were managing to make both ends +meet on three hundred dollars a week. But when the first days of June +had come, and no prospect of settlement, she began to think with +swelling anxiety of the Newport season. + +"Why can't this thing be settled right off?" she said to her husband who +had run up Friday evening--the Friday after the Wednesday Foley had +assured the union of certain victory--to stay with her over Saturday and +Sunday. And she acquainted him with her besetting fears. + +Only another unit of pressure was needed to overturn the wall of Mr. +Baxter's resistance, and the stress of his wife's words was many times +the force required. During his two days at Tuxedo Mr. Baxter sat much of +the time apart in quiet thought. Mrs. Baxter was too considerate a wife +to repeat to him her anxieties, or to harass him with pleas and +questions, but just before he left early Monday morning for the city she +could not refrain from saying: "You will try, won't you, dear, to end +the strike soon?" + +"Yes, dear." + +She beamed upon him. "How soon?" + +"It will last about three more weeks." + +She fell on his neck with a happy cry, and kissed him. She asked him to +explain, but his business sense had told him it would be better if she +did not know the plan, and his love had given him the same counsel; so +he merely answered, "I am certain the union will give up," and plead his +haste to catch his train as excuse for saying nothing more. + +That afternoon a regular meeting of the Executive Committee took place +in Mr. Baxter's office. It was not a very cheerful quintet that sat +about the cherry table: Isaacs, in his heart ready to abandon the fight; +Bobbs, Murphy, and Driscoll, determined to win, but with no more speedy +plan than to continue the siege; and Baxter, cold and polite as usual, +and about as inspiring as a frozen thought. + +There was nothing in the early part of the meeting to put enthusiasm +into the committee. First of all, Mr. Baxter read a letter from the +Civic Federation, asking the committee if it would be willing to meet +again, in the interest of a settlement, with the strikers' committee. + +"Why not?" said Isaacs, trying to subdue his eagerness to a +business-like calm. "We've got nothing to lose by it." + +"And nothing to gain!" snorted Driscoll. + +"Tell the Civic Federation, not on its life," advised Murphy. "And tell +'em to cut their letters out. We're gettin' tired o' their eternal +buttin' in." + +Baxter gave Murphy a chilly glance. "We'll consider that settled then," +he said quietly. In his own mind, however, he had assigned the offer of +the Civic Federation to a definite use. + +There were several routine reports on the condition of the strike; and +the members of the committee had a chance to propose new plans. Baxter +was not ready to offer his--he hung back from broaching it; and the +others had none. "Nothin' to do but set still and starve 'em out," said +Murphy, and no one contradicted him. + +At the previous meeting, when pride was still regnant within him, Mr. +Baxter had announced that he had put detectives on the Avon case with +the hope of gaining evidence that would convict Foley of complicity in +the explosion. Since then the detectives had reported that though +morally certain of Foley's direct responsibility they could find not one +bit of legal evidence against him. Furthermore, business sense had +whispered Mr. Baxter that it would be better to let the matter drop, for +if brought to trial Foley might, in a fit of recklessness, make some +undesirable disclosures. So, for his own reasons, Mr. Baxter had thus +far guarded the Avon explosion from the committee's talk. But at length +Mr. Driscoll, restless at the dead subjects they were discussing, +avoided his guard and asked: "Anything new in the Avon business?" + +"Nothing. My detectives have failed to find any proof at all of Mr. +Foley's guilt." + +"Arrest him anyhow," said Driscoll. "If we can convict him, why the back +of the strike's broken." + +"There's no use arresting a man unless you can convict him." + +"Take the risk! You're losing your nerve, Baxter." + +Baxter flushed the least trifle at Driscoll's words, but he did not +retort. His eyes ran over the faces of the four with barely perceptible +hesitancy. He felt this to be his opening, but the plan of his business +sense was a subject difficult and delicate to handle. + +"I have a better use for Mr. Foley," he said steadily. + +"Yes?" cried the others, and leaned toward him. When Baxter said this +much, they knew he had a vast deal more to say. + +"If we could convict him I'd be in favor of his arrest. But if we try, +we'll fail; and that will be a triumph for the union. So to arrest him +is bad policy." + +"Go on," said Murphy. + +"Whatever we may say to the public, we know among ourselves this strike +is nowhere near its end. It may last all summer--the entire building +season." + +The four men nodded. + +Baxter now spoke with apparent effort. "Why not make use of Foley and +win it in three weeks?" + +"How?" asked Driscoll suspiciously. + +"How?" asked the others eagerly. + +"I suppose most of you have been held up by Foley?" + +There were four affirmative answers. + +"You know he's for sale?" + +"I've been forced to buy him!" said Driscoll. + +Baxter went on more easily, and with the smoothness of a book. "We have +all found ourselves, I suppose, compelled to take measures in the +interests of peace or the uninterrupted continuance of business that +were repugnant to us. What I am going to suggest is a thing I would +rather not have to do; but we are face to face with two evils, and this +is the lesser. + +"You will bear me out, of course, when I say the demands of the union +are without the bounds of reason. We can't afford to grant the demands; +and yet the fight against the union may use up the whole building +season. We'll lose a year's profits, and the men will lose a year's +wages, and in the end we'll win. Since we are certain to win, anyhow, +it seems to me that any plan that will enable us to win at once, and +save our profits and the men's wages, is justifiable." + +"Of course," said three of the men. + +"What do you mean?" Driscoll asked guardedly. + +"Many a rebellion has been quelled by satisfying the leader." + +"Oh, come right out with what you mean," demanded Driscoll. + +"The quickest way of settling the strike, and the cheapest, for both us +and the union, is to--well, see that Foley is satisfied." + +Driscoll sprang to his feet, his chair tumbling on its back, and his +fist came down upon the table. "I thought you were driving at that! By +God, I'm getting sick of this whole dirty underhand way of doing +business. I'd get out if I had a half-way decent offer. The union is in +the wrong. Of course it is! But I want to fight 'em on the square--in +the open. I don't want to win by bribing a traitor!" + +"It's a case where it would be wrong not to bribe--if you want to use so +harsh a word," said Baxter, his face tinged the least bit with red. "It +is either to satisfy Mr. Foley or to lose a summer's work and have the +men and their families suffer from the loss of a summer's wages. It's a +choice between evils. I'll leave to the gentlemen here, which is the +greater." + +"Oh, give your conscience a snooze, Driscoll!" growled Murphy. + +"I think Baxter's reasoning is good," said Bobbs. Isaacs corroborated +him with a nod. + +"It's smooth reasoning, but it's rotten!--as rotten as hell!" He glared +about on the four men. "Are you all in for Baxter's plan?" + +"We haven't heard it all yet," said Bobbs. + +"You've heard enough to guess the rest," snorted Driscoll. + +"I think it's worth tryin'," said Murphy. + +"Why, yes," said Bobbs. + +"We can do no less than that," said Isaacs. + +"Then you'll try it without me!" Driscoll shouted. "I resign from this +committee, and resign quick!" + +He grabbed his hat from Baxter's desk and stamped toward the door. Mr. +Baxter's smooth voice stopped him as his hand was on the knob. + +"Even if you do withdraw, of course you'll keep secret what we have +proposed." + +Driscoll gulped for a moment before he could speak; his face deepened +its purplish red, and his eyes snapped and snapped. "Damn you, Baxter, +what sort d'you think I am!" he exploded. "Of course!" + +He opened the door, there was a furious slam, and he was gone. + +The four men looked at each other questioningly. Baxter broke the +silence. "A good fellow," he said with a touch of pity. "But his ideas +are too inelastic for the business world." + +"He ought to be runnin' a girls' boardin' school," commented Murphy. + +"Perhaps it's just as well he withdrew," said Baxter. "I take it we're +pretty much of one mind." + +"Anything to settle the strike--that's me," said Murphy. "Come on now, +Baxter; give us the whole plan. Just handin' a roll over to Foley ain't +goin' to settle it. That'd do if it was his strike. But it ain't. It's +the union's--about three thousand men. How are you goin' to bring the +union around?" + +"The money brings Foley around; Foley brings the union around. It's very +simple." + +"As simple as two and two makes seven," growled Murphy. "Give us the +whole thing." + +Baxter outlined his entire plan, as he expected it to work out. + +"That sounds good," said Bobbs. "But are you certain we can buy Foley +off?" + +"Sure thing," replied Murphy, answering for Baxter. "If we offer him +enough." + +"How much do you think it'll take?" asked Isaacs. + +Baxter named a figure. + +"So much as that!" cried Isaacs. + +"That isn't very much, coming from the Association," said Baxter. +"You're losing as much in a week as your assessment would come to." + +"I suppose you want the whole Association to know all about this," +remarked Murphy. + +"Only we four are to know anything." + +"How'll you get the Association to give you the money then?" Murphy +followed up. + +"I can get the emergency fund increased. We have to give no account of +that, you know." + +"You seem to have thought o' everything, Baxter," Murphy admitted. "I +say we can't see Foley any too soon." + +Bobbs and Isaacs approved this judgment heartily. + +"I'll write him, then, to meet us here to-morrow afternoon. There's one +more point now." He paused to hunt for a phrase. "Don't you think the +suggestion should--ah--come from him?" + +The three men looked puzzled. "My mind don't make the jump," said +Murphy. + +Baxter coughed. It was not very agreeable, this having to say things +right out. "Don't you see? If we make the offer, it's--well, it's +bribery. But if we can open the way a little bit, and lead him on to +make the demand, why we're----" + +"Held up, o' course!" supplied Murphy admiringly. + +"Yes. In that case, if the negotiations with Foley come to nothing, or +there is a break later, Foley can't make capital out of it, as he might +in the first case. We're safe." + +"We couldn't help ourselves! We were held up!" Alderman Murphy could not +restrain a joyous laugh, and he held out a red hairy hand. "Put 'er +there, Baxter! There was a time when I classed you with the rest o' the +reform bunch you stand with in politics--fit for nothin' but to wear +white kid gloves and to tell people how good you are. But say, you're +the smoothest article I've met yet!" + +Baxter, with hardly concealed reluctance, placed his soft slender hand +in Murphy's oily paw. + + + + +Chapter XXIV + +BUSINESS IS BUSINESS + + +It had been hard for Baxter to broach his plan to the Executive +Committee. The next step in the plan was far harder--to write the letter +to Foley. His revolted pride upreared itself against this act, but his +business sense forced him to go on with what he had begun. So he wrote +the letter--not an easy task of itself, since the letter had to be so +vague as to tell Foley nothing, and yet so luring as to secure his +presence--and sent it to Foley's house by messenger. + +The next afternoon at a quarter past two the committee was again in +Baxter's office. Foley had been asked to come at half-past. The fifteen +minutes before his expected arrival they spent in rehearsing the plan, +so soon to be put to its severest test. + +"I suppose you'll do all the talking, Baxter," said Bobbs. + +"Sure," answered Murphy. "It's his game. I don't like to give in that +any man's better than me, but when it comes to fine work o' this kind we +ain't one, two, three with Baxter." + +Baxter took the compliment with unchanged face. + +Foley was not on time. At two-forty he had not come, and that he would +come at all began to be doubted. At two-fifty he had not arrived. At +three none of the four really expected him. + +"Let's go," said Murphy. "He'd 'a' been here on time if he was comin' at +all. I ain't goin' to waste my time waitin' on any walkin' delegate." + +"Perhaps there has been some mistake--perhaps he didn't get the letter," +suggested Baxter. But his explanation did not satisfy himself; he had a +growing fear that he had humiliated himself in vain, that Foley had got +the letter and was laughing at him--a new humiliation greater even than +the first. "But let's wait a few minutes longer; he may come yet," he +went on; and after a little persuasion the three consented to remain +half an hour longer. + +At quarter past three the office boy brought word that Foley was +without. Baxter ordered that he be sent in, but before the boy could +turn Foley walked through the open door, derby hat down over his eyes, +hands in his trousers pockets. Baxter stood up, and the other three rose +slowly after him. + +"Good-afternoon, gents," Foley said carelessly, his eyes running rapidly +from face to face. "D'I keep youse waitin'?" + +"Only about an hour," growled Murphy. + +"Is that so, now? Sorry. I always take a nap after lunch, an' I +overslep' myself." + +Foley's eyes had fixed upon Baxter's, and Baxter's returned their gaze. +For several seconds the two stood looking at each other with +expressionless faces, till the other three began to wonder. Then Baxter +seemed to swallow something. "Won't you please be seated, Mr. Foley," he +said. + +"Sure," said Foley in his first careless tone. + +The five sat down. Foley again coolly scanned the committee. "Well?" he +said. + +The three looked at Baxter to open the conversation. He did not at once +begin, and Foley took out his watch. "I can only give youse a few +minutes, gents. I've got an engagement up town at four. So if there's +anything doin', s'pose we don't waste no time in silent prayer." + +"We want to talk over the strike with you," began Baxter. + +"Really. If I'd known that now I'd 'a' brought the committee along." + +Murphy scowled at this naïveté. "We don't want to talk to your +committee." + +"I'm nobody without the committee. The committee's runnin' the strike." + +"We merely desire to talk things over in a general way with you in your +capacity as an individual," said Baxter quickly, to head off other +remarks from Murphy. + +"A general talk? Huh! Youse talk two hours; result--youse've talked two +hours." He slowly rose and took his hat, covering a yawn with a bony +hand. "Interestin'. I'd like it if I had the time to spare. But I ain't. +Well--so-long." + +"Hold on!" cried Baxter hastily. Foley turned. "We thought that +possibly, as the result of our talk, we might be able to reach some +compromise for the settlement of the strike." + +"If youse've got any plans, that's different." Foley resumed his chair, +resting an elbow on the table. + +"But remember I've got another engagement, an' cut 'em short." + +There were five chairs in the room. Baxter had placed his own with its +back to the window, and Foley's so that the full light fell straight in +the walking delegate's face. His own face, in the shadow, was as though +masked. + +Baxter had now immediately before him the task of opening the way for +Foley to make the desired demand. "This strike has been going on over +five weeks now," he began, watching the walking delegate's face for any +expression significant that his words were having their effect. "You +have been fixed in your position; we have been fixed in ours. Your union +has lost about three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I won't say how +much we've lost. We both seem to be as firmly fixed in our determination +as ever. The strike may last all summer. The question is, do we both +want to keep on losing money--indefinitely?" + +Foley did not take the opening. "That's the question," he said blandly. + +It was a few seconds before Baxter went on. "I judge that we do not. You +have----" + +"Excuse me," said Foley, rising, "but I got weak eyes, an' this light +hurts 'em. Suppose me an' youse changes chairs." He calmly stepped over +to Baxter's side and waited. + +There was nothing for Baxter but to yield the seat, which he did. Foley +sat down, tilted back against the window sill, and hooked his heels over +a chair rung. + +"Your union has perhaps a million dollars at stake," Baxter continued at +the same even pitch. "We have--a great deal, and the owners stand to +lose heavily. If by talking an hour we can devise a plan by which this +can be saved, it's worth while, is it not?" + +"Sure. Speakin' as an individual, I'm willin' to talk twice as long for +half as much," Foley drawled. + +There was a silence. The three men, their elbows on the polished table, +looked on as though spectators at a play. + +"I wonder if you have anything to propose?" asked Baxter guardedly. + +"Me? I come to use my ears, not my tongue." + +The two men watched each other narrowly. The advantage, if there could +be advantage in the case of two faces under perfect control, was all +with Foley. The contractor had caught no sign revealing whether his +insinuative words were having effect. + +"But you perhaps have thought of some plan that is worth considering," +he went on. + +Foley hesitated, for the first time. "Well--yes." + +"What is it?" + +"I----" He broke off, and seemed to listen with suspicion. + +Baxter's face quickened--the least trifle. The three men leaned further +across the table, excitement tugging in their faces. + +"You are perfectly safe," Baxter assured him. "No one can hear." + +"The plan's dead simple. But mebbe it's occurred to youse." + +"Go on!" said Baxter. The men hardly breathed. + +"The quickest way o' settlin' the strike is for"--he paused--"youse +bosses to give in." + +Baxter's face went a little pale. Something very like a snarl came from +the spectators. + +Foley gave a prolonged chuckle. "If youse'll pay me for my time, I'm +willin' to play tag in the dark so long's the coin lasts. But if youse +ain't, come to business, or I'll go." + +"I don't understand," returned Baxter blankly. + +"Oh, tell the truth now an' then, Baxter. It sorter gives contrast to +the other things youse say. Youse understand all right enough." + +Baxter continued his blank look. + +Foley laughed dryly. "Now why do youse keep up that little game with me, +Baxter? But keep it up, if youse like it? It don't fool no one, so +where's the harm. I see through youse all right, even if youse don't +understand me." + +"Yes?" + +"Mebbe youse'd like to have me tell youse why youse sent for me?" + +There was no answer. + +"I'll tell then, since youse don't seem to want to. I only expect to +live till I'm seventy-five, so I ain't got no time to waste on your way +o' doin' business." Tilted at his ease against the window sill, he gave +each of the four a slow glance from his sharp eyes. "Well, youse gents +sent for me to see if I wouldn't offer to sell out the strike." + +This was hardly the manner in which the four had expected he would be +led on to hold them up. There was a moment of suppressed +disconcertment. Then Baxter remarked: "It seems to me that you are doing +some very unwarranted guessing." + +"I may be wrong, sure." A sardonic grin showed through the shadow-mask +on his face. "Well, what did youse want to talk to me about then?" + +Again there was a pause. The three twisted in uncomfortable suspense. +Baxter had the control of a bronze. "Suppose that was our purpose?" he +asked quietly. "What would you say?" + +"That's pretty fair; youse're gettin' out where there's daylight," Foley +approved. "I'd say youse was wastin' time. It can't be done--even if +anybody wanted it done." + +"Why?" + +"There's three thousand men in the union, an' every one o' them has a +say in settlin' the strike. An' there's five men on the strike +committee. I s'pose it's necessary to tell four such honest gents that a +trick o' this sort's got to be turned on the quiet. Where's the chance +for quiet? A committee might fool a union--yes. But there's the +committee." + +Foley looked at his watch. "I've got to move if I keep that engagement." +He stood up, and a malignant look came over his face. "I've give youse +gents about the only sort of a reason youse're capable of +appreciatin'--I couldn't if I wanted to. But there's another--I don't +want to. The only way o' settlin' this strike is the one I said first, +for youse bosses to give in. I've swore to beat youse out, an', by God, +I'm goin' to do it!" + +Bobbs and Isaac blinked dazedly. Murphy rose with a savage look, but +was sent to his chair by a glance from Baxter. Save for that glance, +Foley's words would have made no more change on Baxter's face than had +it indeed been of bronze. + +"When youse're ready to give in, gents, send for me, an' I'll come +again. Till then, damn youse, good-by!" + +As his hand was on the knob Baxter's even voice reached him: "But +suppose a man could fool the committee?" + +Foley turned slowly around. "What?" + +"Suppose a man could fool the committee?" + +"What youse drivin' at?" + +"Suppose a man could fool the committee?" + +Foley's eyes were of blazing intentness. "It can't be done." + +"I know of only one man who could do it." + +"Who?" + +"I think you can guess his name." + +Foley came slowly back to his chair, with a gaze that fairly clutched +Baxter's face. "Don't youse fool with me!" he snarled. + +Baxter showed nothing of the angler's excitement who feels the fish on +his hook. "Suppose a man could fool the committee? What would you say?" + +Foley held his eyes in piercing study on Baxter's face. "See here, are +youse talkin' business?" he demanded. + +"Suppose I say I am." + +The shadow could not hide a wolf-like gleam of Foley's yellow teeth. +"Then I might say, 'I'll listen.'" + +"Suppose a man could fool the committee," Baxter reiterated. "What would +you say?" + +"S'pose I was to say, 'how'?" + +Baxter felt sure of his catch. Throwing cautious speech aside, he +outlined the plan of his business sense, Foley watching him the while +with unshifting gaze, elbows on knees, hands gripped. "Negotiations +between your committee and ours might be resumed. You might be defiant +for one or two meetings of the two committees. You might still be +defiant in the meetings, but you might begin to drop a few words of +doubt on the outside. They will spread, and have their effect. You can +gradually grow a little weaker in your declarations at the meetings and +a little stronger in your doubts expressed outside. Some things might +happen, harmless in themselves, which would weaken the union's cause. +Then you might begin to say that perhaps after all it would be better to +go back to work on the old scale now, than to hold out with the +possibility of having to go back at the old scale anyhow after having +lost a summer's work. And so on. In three weeks, or even less, you would +have the union in a mood to declare the strike off." + +Foley's gaze dropped to the rug, and the four waited his decision in +straining suspense. The walking delegate's mind quickly ran over all the +phases of this opportunity for a fortune. None of the four men present +would tell of the transaction, since, if they did, they would be +blackened by their own words. To the union and all outside persons it +would seem nothing more than a lost strike. The prestige he would lose +in the union would be only temporary; he could regain it in the course +of time. Other walking delegates had lost strikes and kept their places +as leaders. + +Even Baxter had begun to show signs of nervous strain when Foley raised +his eyes and looked hesitatingly at the three men. Every man was one +more mouth, so one more danger. + +"What is it?" asked Baxter. + +"I ain't used to doin' business with more'n one man." + +"Oh, we're all on the level," growled Murphy. "Come out with it." + +"Well, then, I say yes--with an 'if'." + +"And the 'if'?" queried Baxter. + +"If the price is right." + +"What do you think it should be?" + +Foley studied the men's faces from beneath lowered eyebrows. "Fifty +thousand." + +This was the sum Baxter had mentioned the afternoon before. But Isaacs +cried out, "What!" + +"That--or nothing!" + +"Half that's enough," declared Murphy. + +Foley sneered in Murphy's face. "As I happen to know, twenty-five +thousand is just what youse got for workin' in the Board o' Aldermen for +the Lincoln Avenue Traction Franchise. Good goods always comes higher." + +The alderman's red face paled to a pink. But Baxter cut in before he +could retort. "We won't haggle over the amount, Mr. Foley. I think we +can consider the sum you mention as agreed upon." + +Foley's yellow teeth gleamed again. He summed up his terms concisely: +"Fifty thousand, then. Paid in advance. No checks. Cash only." + +"Pay you in advance!" snorted Murphy. "Well I rather guess not!" + +"Why?" + +"Well--we want somethin' for our money!" + +Foley's face grew dark. "See here, gents. We've done a little quiet +business together, all of us. Now can any one o' youse say Buck Foley +ever failed to keep his part o' the agreement?" + +The four had to vindicate his honor. But nevertheless, for their own +reason, they seemed unwilling to pay now and trust that he would do the +work; and Foley, for his reason, seemed unwilling to do the work and +trust that they would pay. After much discussion a compromise was +reached: the money was to be paid by Baxter in the morning of the day on +which the union would vote upon the strike; the committee could then +feel certain that Foley would press his measure through, for he would +have gone too far to draw back; and Foley, if payment should not be +made, could still balk the fulfillment of the plan. + +When this agreement had been reached Baxter was ready with another +point. "I believe it would be wise if all our future dealings with Mr. +Foley should be in the open, especially my dealings with him. If we were +seen coming from an apparently secret meeting, and recognized--as we +might be, for we are both known to many people--suspicions might be +aroused and our plan defeated." + +The four gave approval to the suggestion. + +At five o'clock all was settled, and Foley rose to go. He looked +irresolutely at Baxter for a moment, then said in a kind of grudging +admiration: "I've never give youse credit, Baxter. I knew youse was the +smoothest thing in the contractin' business, but I never guessed youse +was this deep." + +For an instant Baxter had a fear that he would again have to shake a +great hairy hand. But Foley's tribute did not pass beyond words. + + + + +Chapter XXV + +IN WHICH FOLEY BOWS TO DEFEAT + + +The minute after Foley had gone Mr. Baxter was talking over the +telephone to the secretary of the Conciliation Committee of the Civic +Federation. "We have considered your offer to try to bring our committee +and the committee of the ironworkers together," he said. "We are willing +to reopen negotiations with them." A letter would have been the proper +and more dignified method of communication. But this was the quicker, +and to Mr. Baxter a day was worth while. + +The secretary believed in the high mission of his committee, and was +enthusiastic to make a record for it in the avoidance of strikes and +assistance in their settlement. So he laid down the telephone receiver +and called for a stenographer. Within twenty minutes a messenger left +his office bearing a letter to Foley. + +When Foley got home, an hour after leaving Mr. Baxter's office, his wife +handed him the letter. It read: + + MY DEAR MR. FOLEY: + + Mr. Baxter, speaking for the Executive Committee of the Iron + Employers' Association, has signified their willingness to meet your + committee and again discuss possible measures for the ending of the + strike. Notwithstanding the barrenness of previous meetings I + sincerely hope your committee will show the same willingness to + resume negotiations. Permit me to urge upon your attention the + extreme seriousness of the present situation: the union, the + contractors, the owners, all losing money, the public discommoded by + the delay in the completion of buildings; all these demand that your + two committees get together and in a spirit of fairness reach some + agreement whereby the present situation will be brought to an end. + + Our rooms are at the service of your two committees. As time is + precious I have secured Mr. Baxter's consent, for his committee, to + meet you here at half-past two to-morrow afternoon. I hope this will + suit you. If not, a later date can be arranged. + +Though his appetite and dinner were both ready, Foley put on his hat and +went to the home of Connelly. The secretary was just sitting down to his +own dinner. + +"I just happened to be goin' by," said Foley, "an' I thought I'd run in +an' show youse a letter I got to-day." He drew out the letter and handed +it to Connelly. + +Foley chatted with Mrs. Connelly while the letter was being read, but +all the time his eyes were watching its effect upon Connelly. When he +saw the end had been reached, he remarked: "It don't amount to nothin'. +I guess we might as well write 'em to go to hell." + +Connelly hesitated. It usually took more than a little courage to +express a view contrary to Foley's. "I don't know," he said doubtfully. +"Baxter knows how we stand. It strikes me if he offers to talk things +over with us, that means he realizes he's licked an' is willin' to make +concessions." + +"Um! Maybe youse're right." + +Encouraged by this admission Connelly went on: "It might be worth our +while to meet 'em, anyhow. Suppose nothin' does come of it, what have we +lost?" + +Foley looked half-convinced. "Well, mebbe our committee might as well +talk the letter over." + +"Sure thing." + +"I suppose then we ought to get together to-night. If we get word to the +other three boys, we've got to catch 'em at dinner. Can youse see to +that?" + +Connelly looked regretfully at his untasted meal. "I guess I can." + +"All right. In your office then, say at eight." + +The five men were in the office on time, though Connelly, to make it, +had to content himself with what he could swallow in a few minutes at a +quick lunch counter. The office was a large, square room, a desk in one +corner, a few chairs along the sides, a great cuspidor in the center; at +the windows were lace curtains, and on one wall was a full-length mirror +in a gilt frame--for on nights when Potomac Hall was let for weddings, +receptions, and balls, Connelly's office had over its door, "Ladies' +Dressing Room." + +The five men lit cigars, Foley's cigars, and drew chairs around the +cuspidor, which forthwith began to bear the relation of hub to their +frequent salivary spokes. "Connelly told youse about the letter from the +Civic Federation, that's gettin' so stuck on runnin' God's business +they'll soon have him chased off his job," Foley began. "But I guess I +might as well read the letter to youse." + +"Take the offer, o' course!" declared Pete, when Foley had ended. + +"That's what I said," Connelly joined. + +Hogan and Brown, knowing how opposed Foley was to the proposition, said +nothing. + +"We've wasted enough time on the bosses' committee," Foley objected. "No +use talkin' to 'em again till we've put 'em down an' out." + +"The trouble with you, Foley, is, you like a fight so well you can't +tell when you've licked your man," said Pete in an exasperated tone. +"What's the use punchin' a man after he's give in?" + +"We've got 'em licked, or they'd never ask to talk things over," urged +Connelly. + +Foley looked in scowling meditation at his cigar ash. Then he raised his +eyes to Brown and Hogan. "What do youse think?" + +Thus directly questioned; they had to admit they stood with Pete and +Connelly. + +"Oh, well, since we ain't workin', I suppose we won't be wastin' much if +we do chin a bit with 'em," he conceded. But the four easily perceived +that he merely yielded to their majority, did not agree. + +The next afternoon Foley and his committee were led by the secretary of +the Conciliation Committee into one of the rooms of the Civic +Federation's suite, where Mr. Baxter and his committee were already in +waiting. The secretary expressed a hope that they arrive at an +understanding, and withdrew in exultation over this example of the +successful work his committee was doing. + +There was a new member on the employers' committee--Mr. Berman. Mr. +Baxter, exercising the power vested in him to fill vacancies +temporarily, had chosen Mr. Berman as Mr. Driscoll's successor for two +reasons: his observations of Mr. Berman had made him certain the latter +had elastic ideas; and, more important, for Mr. Driscoll's own partner +to take the vacant place would quiet all suspicions as to the cause of +Mr. Driscoll's unexpected resignation. Of the five, Bobbs and Isaacs +were rather self-conscious; Murphy, who had had previous experience in +similar situations, wore a large, blustering manner; Berman, for all his +comparative inexperience, was most promisingly at his ease; and Baxter +was the Baxter he was three hundred and sixty-five days in the year. + +The strikers' committee presented the confident front of expected +victory. Foley, slipped far down in his chair, eyed the contractors with +a sideling, insolent glance. + +"If this here's to be another o' them hot air festivals, like we +attended in April an' May, say so now," he growled. "We ain't got no +time for talkin' unless youse mean business." + +Connelly, whose chair was beside Foley's, leaned over anxiously. "Don't +you think you're goin' at 'em pretty rough, Buck?" he whispered. "If you +get 'em mad, they'll go right back to where they stood." + +"Oh, youse leave 'em to me," Foley returned knowingly. + +It would serve no purpose to give the details of this meeting. Mr. +Baxter, ignoring Foley's insolence of manner, outlined in well-balanced +sentences the reasons that made it imperative to both sides for the +strike to be settled, and then went on to give anew the contractors' +side of the questions at issue. Now and then Foley broke in with +comments which were splenetic outbursts rather than effective +rejoinders. When the meeting was over and his committee was out in the +street, Foley shed his roughly defiant manner. "Boys," he said with +quiet confidence, "we've got 'em beat to death." + +The next afternoon was occupied with a debate between Mr. Baxter and +Foley upon their respective claims. Foley's tongue was as sharp as ever, +but his fellow committeemen had to acknowledge to their secret hearts +there was more of convincing substance in what Mr. Baxter said. They +wondered somewhat at the sudden declension in the effectiveness of their +leader's speech, which perhaps they would not have done had they been +parties to a conference that morning at which Foley had pointed out to +Mr. Baxter the vulnerable spots in the union's claims, and schooled him +in the most telling replies to the statements he, Foley, intended +making. + +After the meeting Foley again declared his certainty of winning, but +there was a notable decrease of confidence in his voice. + +"Yes," said Connelly, without much spirit. "But Baxter, he puts up a +good talk." + +"He seems to have facts to talk from," explained Brown. + +"So have we," said Foley. + +"Yes, but somehow at the meetin's his facts seem stronger," said +Connelly. + +"Oh, what o' that," Foley returned encouragingly. "More'n once in poker +I've seen a strong bluff win over a strong hand." + +The next meeting was a repetition of the second. Foley was keen in his +wit, and insolently defiant; but Mr. Baxter got the better of every +argument. The union's committee began to admit, each man to himself, +that their position was weaker, and the contractors' much stronger, than +they had thought. + +And so, day by day, Foley continued to undermine their confidence. So +skillfully did he play his part, they never guessed that he was the +insinuating cause of their failing courage; more, his constant +encouragement made them ashamed to speak of their sinking spirit. + +But on the fifth day, at a consultation in Connelly's office, it came +out. There had been an hour of talk, absolutely without a touch of +enthusiasm, when Connelly, who had been looking around at the men's +faces for some time, said with an effort: "On the level now, boys, d'you +think we've got any chance o' winnin'?" + +Foley swore. "What's that?" he demanded. "Why o' course we're goin' to +win!" + +But Connelly's words had their effect; the silence broken, the men spoke +hesitatingly of the growing doubts they had been trying to hide. Foley +stood up. "Boys, if youse're goin' to talk this kind o' rot, youse've +got to talk it without me," he said, and went out. + +Foley gone, they spoke freely of their doubts; and they also talked of +him. "D'you notice how the ring's all gone out o' his voice?" asked +Brown. + +"I bet he ain't got no more confidence than any o' the rest of us," said +Pete. + +"I bet so, too," agreed Connelly. "He talks big just to cheer us up. +Then it's mighty hard for Buck to give up. He'll always fight to his +last drop o' blood." + +The decline of the committee's enthusiasm had already begun to have a +disquieting effect in the union. It now rapidly spread that the +committee had little confidence of winning the strike, and that Foley, +for all his encouraging words, believed at heart as did the rest of the +committee. + +The first meeting of the union after the resumption of negotiations was +a bitter one. The committee made a vague report, in which Foley did not +join, that made apparent their fallen courage. Immediately questioning +men were on their feet all over the hall, Tom among them. The committee, +cornered by queries, had to admit publicly that it had no such +confidence as it had had a week before. The reasons for this were +demanded. No more definite reason could be given than that the bosses +were stronger in their position than the union had believed. + +There were sneers and hot words for the four members who participated in +the report. Cries went up for Foley, who had thus far kept out of the +discussion; and one voice, answering the cries, shouted: "Oh, he's lost +his nerve, too, the same as the others!" + +Foley was on his feet in an instant, looking over the excited crowd. "If +any man here has heard me say I'm for givin' in, let him get up on his +two feet!" + +No one stood up. "I guess youse all know I'm for fightin' as long's +there's anything worth fightin' for," he declared, and sank back into +his seat. + +But there had been no wrath in his eyes as he had looked over the crowd, +and no ferocity in his words of vindication. The whisper ran about that +it was true, he was losing his nerve. And if Foley, Foley the fighter, +were losing confidence, then the situation must indeed be desperate. + +The courage of a large body of men, especially of one loosely organized, +is the courage of its leaders. Now that it was known the committee's +confidence was well-nigh gone, and guessed that Foley's was going, the +courage of the men ebbed rapidly. It began to be said: "If there's no +chance of winning the strike, why don't we settle it at once, and get +back to work?" And the one who spoke loudest and most often in this +strain was Johnson. + +Two days after the meeting Foley had a conference with Mr. Baxter, at +which the other members of the union's committee were not present. And +that same night there was another explosion in one of Mr. Baxter's +buildings that chanced to be unguarded. The explosion was slight, and +small damage was done, but a search discovered two charges of dynamite +in the foundation, with fuses burned almost to the fulminating caps. + +If the dynamite did not explode, the newspapers did. The perpetrators of +this second outrage, which only fate had prevented, should be hunted +down and made such an example of as would be an eternal warning against +like atrocities. The chief of police should apprehend the miscreants at +whatever cost, and the district attorney should see that they had full +justice--and perhaps a little more. + +The chief of police, for his part, declared he'd have the guilty parties +if it took his every man to run them down. But his men searched, days +passed, and the waiting cells remained empty. + +Mr. Baxter, interviewed, said it was obvious that the union was now +determined to stop at nothing in its efforts to drive the contractors +into submission. The union, at a special meeting, disclaimed any +responsibility for the attempted outrage, and intimated that this was a +scheme of the contractors themselves to blacken the union's character. +When a reporter "conveyed this intelligence to Mr. Baxter, that +gentleman only smiled." + +The chief result of this second explosion was that so much as remained +to the union of public sympathy was lost in what time it took the public +to read its morning paper. Had a feeling of confidence prevailed in the +union, instead of one of growing doubt, this charge might have incited +the union to resistance all the stouter. But the union, dispirited over +the weakness of its cause, saw its cause had been yet further weakened, +and its courage fled precipitately. + +Three days after the explosion there was another joint meeting of the +two committees. At this Mr. Baxter, who had before been soft courtesy, +was all ultimatum. The explosion had decided them. They would not be +intimidated; they would not make a single concession. The union could +return to work on the old terms, if it liked; if not, they would fight +till there was nothing more to fight with, or for. + +Foley, with much bravado, gave ultimatum for ultimatum; but when his +committee met, immediately after leaving the employers', to consider Mr. +Baxter's proposition, he sat in gloomy silence, hardly heeding what was +being said. As they talked they turned constantly to Foley's somber +face, and looking at that face their words became more and more +discouraged. + +Finally Pete asked of him: "Where d'you stand, Buck?" + +He came out of his reverie with a start. "I'm against givin' up," he +said. "Somethin' may turn up yet." + +"What's the use holdin' on?" demanded Connelly. "We're bound to be +licked in the end. Every day we hold out the men lose a day's pay." + +Foley glanced sadly about. "Is that what youse all think?" + +There were four affirmative answers. + +"Well, I ain't goin' to stand out----" + +He broke off, and his face fell forward into his palm, and he was silent +for a long space. The four watched him in wordless sympathy. + +"Boys," he said, huskily, into his hand, "this's the first time Buck +Foley's ever been licked." + + + + +Chapter XXVI + +PETERSEN'S SIN + + +The first news of the committee's failing confidence that reached Tom's +ears he discredited as being one of the rumors that are always flying +about when large powers are vested in a small body of men. That the +strike could fail was too preposterous for his belief. But when the +committee was forced to admit in open meeting that its courage was +waning, Tom, astounded, had to accept what but yesterday he had +discredited. He thought immediately of treachery on Foley's part, but in +his hot remarks to the union he made no mention of his suspicions; he +knew the boomerang quality of an accusation he could not prove. Later, +when he went over the situation with cool brain, he saw that treachery +was impossible. Granting even that Foley could be bought, there was the +rest of the committee,--and Pete, on whose integrity he would have +staked his own, was one of its members. + +And yet, for all that reason told him, a vague and large suspicion +persisted in his mind. A few days after the meeting he had a talk with +Pete, during which his suspicion got into words. "Has it occurred to +you, Pete, that maybe Foley is up to some deep trick?" he asked. + +"You're away off, Tom!" was the answer, given with some heat. "I ain't +missed a single committee meetin', an' I know just where Foley stands. +It's the rest of us that're sorter peterin' out. Buck's the only one +that's standin' out for not givin' in. Mebbe he's not above dumpin' us +all if he had the chance. But he couldn't be crooked here even if he +wanted to. We're too many watchin' him." + +All this Tom had said to himself before, but his saying it had not +dispelled his suspicion, and no more did the saying of it now by Pete. +The negotiations seemed all open and above board; he could not lay his +finger on a single flaw in them. But yet the strike seemed to him to +have been on too solid a basis to have thus collapsed without apparent +cause. + +At the union meeting following the committee conference where Foley had +yielded, a broken man, the advisability of abandoning the strike came up +for discussion. Foley sat back in his chair, with overcast face, and +refused to speak. But his words to the committee had gone round, and now +his gloomy silence was more convincing in its discouragement than any +speech could have been. Tom, whose mind could not give up the suspicion +that there was trickery, even though he could not see it, had a +despairing thought that if action could be staved off time might make +the flaw apparent. He frantically opposed the desire of a portion of the +members that the strike be given up that very evening. Their defeat was +not difficult; the union was not yet ready for the step. It was decided +that the matter should come up for a vote at the following meeting. + +While Tom was at breakfast the next morning there was a knock at the +door. Maggie answered it, and he heard a thin yet resonant voice that +he seemed to have heard before, inquire: "Is Mr. Keating in?" + +He stepped to the door. In the dim hallway he saw indistinctly a small, +thin woman with a child in her arms. "Yes," he answered for himself. + +"Don't you remember me, Brother Keating?" she asked, with a glad note in +her voice, shifting the child higher on her breast and holding out a +hand. + +"Mrs. Petersen!" he cried. "Come right in." + +She entered, and Tom introduced her to Maggie, who drew a chair for her +up beside the breakfast table. + +"Thank you, sister." She sank exhausted into the chair, and turned +immediately on Tom. "Have you seen Nels lately?" she asked eagerly. + +"Not for more than two weeks." + +The excitement died out of her face; Tom now saw, by the light of the +gas that had to be burned in the dining-room even at midday, that the +face was drawn and that there were dark rings under the eyes. "Is +anything wrong?" he asked. + +"He ain't been home for two nights," she returned tremulously. "I said +to myself last night, if he don't come to-night I'll come over to see +you early this morning. Mebbe you'd know something about him." + +"Not a thing." He wanted to lighten that wan face, so he gave the best +cheer that he could. "But I guess nothing's wrong with him." + +"Yes, there is, or he'd never stay away like this," she returned +quickly. Her voice sank with resignation. "I suppose all I can do is to +pray." + +"And look," Tom added. "I'll look." + +She rose to go. Maggie pressed her to have breakfast, but she refused, a +faint returning hope in her eyes. "Mebbe the Lord's brung him home while +I've been here." + +A half minute after the door had closed upon her Tom opened it and +hurried down the three flights of stairs. He caught her just going into +the street. + +He fumbled awkwardly in his pocket. "Do you need anything?" + +"No. Bless you, Brother Keating. Nels left me plenty o' money. You know +he works reg'lar on the docks." + +Two causes for Petersen's absence occurred as possible to Tom--arrest +and death. He looked through the record of arrests for the last two days +at police headquarters. Petersen's name was not there, and to give a +false name would never have occurred to Petersen's slow mind. So Tom +knew he was not in a cell. He visited the public morgues and followed +attendants who turned back sheets from cold faces. But Petersen's face +he did not see. + +The end of the day brought also the end of Tom's search. He now had +three explanations for Petersen's absence: The Swede was dead, and his +body unrecovered; he had wandered off in a fit of mental aberration; he +had deserted his wife. The first he did not want to believe. The third, +remembering the looks that had passed between the two the night he had +visited their home, he could not believe. He clung to the second; and +that was the only one he mentioned to Mrs. Petersen when he called in +the evening to report. + +"He'll come to suddenly, and come back," he encouraged her. "That's the +way with such cases." + +"You think so?" She brightened visibly. + +A fourth explanation flashed upon him. "Perhaps he got caught by +accident on some boat he had been helping load, and got carried away." + +She brightened a little more at this. "Just so he's alive!" she cried. + +"He'll be certain to be back in a few days," Tom said positively. He +left her greatly comforted by his words, though he himself did not half +believe them. + +There was nothing more he could do toward discovering the missing man. +It must be admitted that, during the next few days, he thought of +Petersen much less frequently than was the due of such a friend as the +Swede had proved. The affairs of the union held his mind exclusively. +Opinion was turning overwhelmingly toward giving up the strike, and +giving it up immediately. Wherever there was a man who still held out, +there were three or four men pouring words upon him. "Foley may not be +so honest as to hurt him, but he's a fighter from 'way back, an' if he +thinks we ought to stop fightin' now, then we ought to 'a' stopped weeks +ago"--such was the substance of the reasoning in bar-room and street +that converted many a man to yielding. + +And also, Tom learned, a quick settlement was being urged at home. As +long as the men had stood firm for the strike, the women had skimped at +every point and supported that policy. But when they discovered that the +men's courage was going, the women, who feel most the fierce economy of +a strike, were for the straight resumption of work and income. Maggie, +Tom knew, was beginning to look forward in silent eagerness to a +settlement; he guessed that she hoped, the strike ended, he might go +back to work untroubled by Foley. + +Tom undertook to stand out against the proposal of submission, but he +might as well have tried to shoulder back a Fundy tide. Men remembered +it was he who had so hotly urged them into a strike that thus far had +cost them seven weeks' wages. "I suppose you'd have us lose seven more +weeks' money," they sneered at him. They said other things, and +stronger, for your ironworker has studied English in many places. + +Monday evening found Tom in a chair at one of the open windows of his +sitting-room, staring out at nothing at all, hardly conscious of Maggie, +who was reading, or of Ferdinand, who lay dozing on the couch. He was +completely discouraged--at the uttermost end of things. He had searched +his mind frantically for flaws in the negotiations and in Foley's +conduct, flaws which, if followed up, clue by clue, would reveal Foley's +suspected treachery. But he found none. There seemed nothing more he +could do. The vote would come on Wednesday evening, and its result was +as certain as if the count had already been made. + +And so he sat staring into the line of back yards with their rows and +rows of lighted windows. His mind moved over the past five months. They +had held nothing for him but failure and pain. He had fought for honor +in the management of the union's affairs, staking his place in his trade +on the result--and honor in the contest with dishonesty had gone down in +defeat. He had urged the union to strike for better wages, and now the +strike was on the eve of being lost. He would have to begin life over +anew, and he did not know where he could begin. Moreover, he had lost +all but a few friends; and he had lost all influence. This was what his +fight for right had brought him, and in five months. + +And this was not the sum of the bitterness the five months had brought +him--no, nor its greater part. He had learned how mighty real love can +be--and how hopeless! + +He had been sitting so, dreaming darkly, for an hour or more when Maggie +asked him if he had heard whether Petersen had come back. The question +brought to his mind that he had neglected Mrs. Petersen for four days. +He rose, conscience-smitten, told Maggie he would be back presently, and +set forth for the tenement in which the Petersens had their home. He +found Mrs. Petersen, her child asleep in her lap, reading the Bible. She +appeared to be even slighter and paler than when he had last seen her, +but her spirit seemed to burn even higher through the lessened +obscuration of her thinning flesh. + +No, Petersen had not yet come back. "But I fetched my trouble to God in +prayer," she said. "An' He helped me, glory to His name! He told me Nels +is comin' back." + +Tom had nothing to give to one so fired by hope, and he slipped away as +soon as he could and returned home. On entering his flat, his eyes going +straight through the dining-room into the sitting-room, he saw Maggie +gazing in uncomfortable silence at a man--a lean, brown man, with knobby +face, and wing-like mustache, who sat with bony hands in his lap and +eyes fastened on his knees. + +Tom crossed the dining-room with long strides. Maggie, glad of the +chance to escape, passed into the bedroom. + +"Petersen!" he cried. "Where on earth've you been?" + +Petersen rose with a glad light in his face and grasped the hand Tom +offered. Immediately he disengaged his hand to slip it into a trousers +pocket. Tom now noted that Petersen's face was slightly discolored,--dim +yellows, and greens, and blues--and that his left thumb was brown, as +though stained with arnica. + +"I come to pay vot I loan," Petersen mumbled. His hand came forth from +the pocket grasping a roll of bills as big as his wrist. He unwrapped +three tens and silently held them out. + +Tom, who had watched this action through with dumb amazement, now broke +out: "Where d'you get all that money? Where've you been?" + +The three tens were still in Petersen's outstretched hand. "For vot you +give de union, and vot you give me." + +"But where've you been?" Tom demanded, taking the money. + +Fear, shame, and contrition struggled for control of Petersen's face. +But he answered doggedly: "I vorked at de docks." + +"You know that's not so, Petersen. You haven't been home for a week. And +your wife's scared half to death." + +"Anna scared? Vy?" He started, and his brown face paled. + +"Why shouldn't she be?" Tom returned wrathfully. "You went off without a +word to her, and not a word from you for a week! Now see here, Petersen, +where've you been?" + +"Vorkin' at de docks," he repeated, but weakly. + +"And got that wad of money for it! Hardly." He pushed Petersen firmly +back into his chair. "Now you've got to tell me all about it." + +All the dogged resistance faded from Petersen's manner, and he sat +trembling, with face down. For a moment Tom was in consternation lest he +break into tears. But he controlled himself and in shame told his story, +aided by questions from Tom. Tom heard him without comment, breathing +rapidly and gulping at parts of the brokenly-told story. + +When the account was ended Tom gripped Petersen's hand. "You're all +right, Petersen!" he said huskily. + +Tears trickled down from Petersen's eyes, and his simple face twitched +with remorse. + +Tom fell into thought. He understood Petersen's fear to face his wife. +He, too, was uncertain how Mrs. Petersen, in her religious fervor, would +regard what Petersen had done. He had to tell her, of course, since +Petersen had shown he could not. But how should he tell her--how, so +that the woman, and not the religious enthusiast, would be reached? + +Presently Tom handed Petersen his hat, and picked up his own. "Come on," +he said; and to Maggie he called through the bedroom door: "I'll be back +in an hour." + +As they passed through the tunnel Tom, who had slipped his hand through +Petersen's arm for guidance, felt the Swede begin to tremble; and it was +so across the little stone-paved court, with the square of stars above, +and up the nervous stairway, whose February odors had been multiplied by +the June warmth. Before his own door Petersen held back. + +Tom understood. "Wait here for me, then," he said, and knocked upon the +door. + +"Who's there?" an eager voice questioned. + +"Keating." + +When she answered, the eagerness in the voice had turned to +disappointment. "All right, Brother Keating. In just a minute." + +Tom heard the sounds of rapid dressing, and then a hand upon the knob. +Petersen shrank back into the darkness of a corner. + +The door opened. "Come in, Brother Keating," she said, not quite able to +hide her surprise at this second visit in one evening. + +A coal oil lamp on the kitchen table revealed the utter barrenness and +the utter cleanness--so far as unmonied effort could make clean those +scaling walls and that foot-hollowed floor--which he had seen on his +first visit five months before. He was hardly within the door when her +quick eyes caught the strain in his manner. One thin hand seized his +arm excitedly. "What is it, brother? Have you heard from Nels?" + +"Ye-es," Tom admitted hesitatingly. He had not planned to begin the +story so. + +"And he's alive? Quick! He's alive?" + +"Yes." + +She sank into a chair, clasped both hands over her heart, and turned her +eyes upward. "Praise the Lord! I thank Thee, Lord! I knew Thou wouldst +keep him." + +Immediately her wide, burning eyes were back on Tom. "Where is he?" + +"He's been very wicked," said Tom, shaking his head sadly, and lowering +himself into the only other chair. "So wicked he's afraid you can never +forgive him. And I don't see how you can. He's afraid to come home." + +"God forgives everything to the penitent, an' I try to follow after +God," she said, trembling. A sickening fear was on her face. "Tell me, +brother! What's he done? Don't try to spare me! God will help me to bear +it. Not--not--murder?" + +"No. He's fallen in another way," Tom returned, with the sad shake of +his head again. "Shall I tell you all?" + +"All, brother! An' quickly!" She leaned toward him, hands gripped in the +lap of her calico wrapper, with such a staring, fearing attention as +seemed to stand out from her gray face and be of itself a separate +presence. + +"I'll have to tell you some things you know already, and know better +than I do," Tom said, watching to see how his words worked upon her. +"After Petersen got in the union he held a job for two weeks. Then Foley +knocked him out, and then came the strike. It's been eleven weeks since +he earned a cent at his trade. The money he'd made in the two weeks he +worked soon gave out. He tried to find work and couldn't. Days passed, +and weeks. They had little to eat at home. I guess they had a pretty +hard time of it. He----" + +"We did, brother!" + +"He saw his wife and kid falling off--getting weaker and weaker," Tom +went on, not heeding the interruption. "He got desperate; he couldn't +see 'em starve. Now the devil always has temptation ready for a +desperate man. About four weeks ago when his wife was so weak she could +hardly move, and there wasn't a bite in the house, the devil tempted +Petersen. He happened to meet a man who had been his partner in his old +wicked days, his manager when he was a prize fighter. The manager said +it was too bad Petersen had left the ring; he was arranging a +heavy-weight bout to come off before a swell athletic club in +Philadelphia, a nice purse for the loser and a big fat one for the +winner. They walked along the street together for awhile, and all the +time the devil was tempting Petersen, saying to him: 'Go in and +fight--this once. It's right for a man to do anything rather than let +his wife and kid starve.' But Petersen held out, getting weaker all the +time, though. Then the devil said to him: 'He's a pretty poor sort of a +man that loves his promise not to fight more than he loves his wife and +kid.' Petersen fell. He decided to commit the sin." + +Tom paused an instant, then added in a hard voice: "But because a man +loves his wife so much he's willing to do anything for her, that don't +excuse the sin, does it?" + +"Go on!" she entreated, leaning yet further toward him. + +"Well, he said to the manager he'd fight. They settled it, and the man +advanced some money. Petersen went into training. But he was afraid to +tell us what an awful thing he was doing,--doing because he didn't want +his wife to starve,--and so he told us he was working at the docks. So +it was for three weeks, and his wife and kid had things to eat. The +fight came off last Wednesday night----" + +"And who won? Who?" + +"Well--Petersen." + +"Yes! Of course!" she cried, exultation for the moment possessing her +face. "He is a terrible fighter! He----" + +She broke off and bowed her head with sudden shame; when it came up the +next instant she wore again the tense look that seemed the focus of her +being. + +Tom had gone right on. "It was a hard fight. He was up against a fast +hard hitter. But he fought better than he ever did before. I suppose he +was thinking of his wife and kid. He won, and got the big purse. But +after the fight was over, he didn't dare come home. His face was so +bruised his wife would have known he'd been fighting,--and he knew it +would break her heart for her to know he'd been at it again. And so he +thought he'd stay away till his face got well. She needn't ever have the +pain then of knowing how he'd sinned. He never even thought how worried +she'd be at not hearing from him. So he stayed away till his face got +well, almost--till to-night. Then he came back, and slipped up to his +door. He wanted to come in, but he was still afraid. He listened at the +door. His wife was praying for him, and one thing he heard was, she +asked God to keep him wherever he was from wrong-doing. He knew then +he'd have to tell her all about it, and he knew how terrible his sin +would seem to her. He knew she could never forgive him. So he slipped +down the stairs, and went away. Of course he was right about what his +wife would think," Tom drove himself on with implacable voice. "I didn't +come here to plead for him. I don't blame you. It was a terrible sin, a +sin----" + +She rose tremblingly from her chair, and raised a thin authoritative +hand. "Stop right there, brother!" she cried, her voice sob-broken. "It +wasn't a sin. It--it was glorious!" + +Tom sprang toward the door. "Petersen!" he shouted. He flung it open, +and the next instant dragged Petersen, shrinking and eager, fearful, +shamefaced, and yet glowing, into the room. + +"Oh, Nels!" She rushed into his arms, and their mighty length tightened +about the frail body. "It--was--glorious--Nels! It----" + +But Tom heard no more. He closed the door and groped down the shivering +stairway. + + + + +Chapter XXVII + +THE THOUSANDTH CHANCE + + +Mr. Driscoll was the chairman of the building committee of a little +independent church whose membership was inclined to regard him somewhat +dubiously, notwithstanding the open liking of the pastor. The church was +planning a new home, and of late the committee had been holding frequent +meetings. In the afternoon of this same Monday there had been a session +of the committee; and on leaving the pastor's study Mr. Driscoll had +hurried to his office, but Ruth, whom he had pressed into service as the +committee's secretary, had stopped to perform a number of errands. When +she reached the office she walked through the open hall door--the +weather was warm, so it had been wide all day--over the noiseless rug to +her desk, and began to remove her hat. Voices came to her from Mr. +Driscoll's room, Mr. Driscoll's voice and Mr. Berman's; but their first +few sentences, on business matters, passed her ears unheeded, like the +thousand noises of the street. But presently, after a little pause, Mr. +Berman remarked upon a new topic: "Well, it's the same as settled that +the strike will be over in two days." + +Almost unconsciously Ruth's ears began to take in the words, though she +continued tearing the sheets of stamps, one of her purchases, into +strips, preparatory to putting them away. + +"Another case in which right prevails," said Mr. Driscoll, a touch of +sarcasm in his voice. + +"Why, yes. We are altogether in the right." + +"And so we win." Silence. Then, abruptly, and with more sarcasm: "But +how much are we paying Foley?" + +Ruth started, as when amid the street's thousand noises one's own name +is called out. She gazed intently at the door, which was slightly ajar. + +Silence. "What? You know that?" + +"Why do you suppose I left the committee?" + +"I believed what you said, that you were tired of it." + +"Um! So they never told you. Since you're a member of the committee I'm +breaking no pledge in telling you where I stand. I left when they +proposed buying Foley----" + +Mr. Berman made a hushing sound. + +"Nobody'll hear. Miss Arnold's out. Besides, I wouldn't mind much if +somebody did hear, and give the whole scheme away. How you men can stand +for it is more than I know." + +"Oh, it's all right," Mr. Berman returned easily. + +The talk went on, but Ruth listened for no more. She hastily pinned on +her hat, passed quietly into the hall, and caught a descending elevator. +After a walk about the block she came back to the office and moved +around with all the legitimate noise she could make. Mr. Driscoll's door +softly closed. + +In a few minutes Mr. Berman came out and, door knob in hand, regarded +her a moment as she sat at her desk making a pretense of being at work. +Then he crossed the room with a rare masculine grace and bent above her. + +"Miss Arnold," he said. + +Ruth rarely took dictation from Mr. Berman, but she now reached for her +note-book in instinctive defense against conversation. "Some work for +me?" She did not look up. + +"Something for you to make a note of, but no work," he returned in his +low, well-modulated voice that had seemed to her the very vocalization +of gentlemanliness. "I remember the promise you made me give--during +business hours, only business. But I have been looking for a chance all +day to break it. I want to remind you again that the six months are up +to-morrow night." + +"Yes. My answer will be ready." + +He waited for her to say something more, but she did not; and he passed +on to his own room. + +Ruth had two revelations to ponder; but it was to the sudden insight she +had been given into the real cause of the contractors' approaching +victory that she gave her first thought, and not to the sudden insight +into the character of Mr. Berman. From the first minute there was no +doubt as to what she should do, and yet there was a long debate in her +mind. If she were to give Tom the bare fact that had been revealed to +her, and, using it as a clue, he were to uncover the whole plan, there +would come a disgraceful exposure involving her uncle, her employers, +and, to a degree, all the steel contractors. And another sentiment threw +its influence against disclosing her information: her natural shrinking +from opening communication with Tom; and mixed with this was a remnant +of her resentment that he had treated her so. She had instinctively +placed him beside Mr. Berman, and had been compelled to admit with pain: +"Mr. Berman would never have done it." + +But her sense of right was of itself enough to have forced her to make +the one proper use of the information chance had given her; and besides +this sense of right there was her love, ready for any sacrifice. So she +covertly scribbled the following note to Tom: + + MY DEAR MR. KEATING: + + Are you sure Mr. Foley is not playing the union false? + + RUTH ARNOLD. + + He is. + +With curious femininity she had, at the last moment, tried to +compromise, suggesting enough by her question to furnish a clue to Tom, +and yet saying so little that she could tell herself she had really not +betrayed her friends; and then, in two words, she had impulsively flung +him all her knowledge. + +The note written, she thought of the second revelation; of the Mr. +Berman she had really liked so well for his æsthetic taste, for his +irreproachable gentlemanliness, for all the things Tom was not. "Oh, +it's all right," he had said easily. And she placed him beside Tom, and +admitted with pain-adulterated happiness: "Mr. Keating would never have +done that." + +When her work for the day was over she hurried to the postoffice in Park +Row and dropped the letter into the slot marked "Special Delivery." And +when Tom came back from his second call at the Petersen home Maggie was +awaiting him with it. At sight of the handwriting on the envelope the +color left his face. He tore open the envelope with an eagerness he +tried to conceal in an assumed carelessness, and read the score of +words. + +When he looked up from the note, Maggie's eyes were fastened on his +face. A special delivery letter had never come to their home before. +"What is it?" she asked. + +"Just a note about the strike," he answered, and put the letter into his +pocket. + +The explanation did not satisfy Maggie, but, as it was far past their +bedtime, she turned slowly and went into the bedroom. + +"I'm not coming to bed for a little while," he called to her. + +The next minute he was lost in the excitement begotten by the letter. It +was true, then, what he had suspected. Ruth, he knew, would never have +written the note unless she had been certain. His head filled with a +turmoil of thoughts--every third one about Ruth; but these he tried to +force aside, for he was face to face with a crisis and needed all his +brain. And some of his thoughts were appalling ones that the union was +so perilously near its betrayal; and some were exultant, that he was +right after all. But amid this mental turmoil one thought, larger than +any of the others, with wild steadfastness held the central place of his +brain: there was a chance that, even yet, he could circumvent Foley and +save the union--that, fallen as low as he was, he might yet triumph. + +But by what plan? He was more certain than ever of Foley's guilt, but he +could not base a denunciation of Foley upon mere certitude, unsupported +by a single fact. He had to have facts. And how to get them? One wild +plan after another acted itself out as a play in his excited brain, in +which he had such theatric parts as descending accusingly upon Mr. +Baxter and demanding a confession, or cunningly trapping Foley into an +admission of the truth, or gaining it at point of pistol. As the hours +passed his brain quieted somewhat, and he more quickly saw the absurdity +of schemes of this sort. But he could find no practicable plan, and a +frantic fear began to possess him: the meeting was less than two days +off, and as yet he saw no effective way of balking the sale of the +strike. + +He sat with head on the table, he lay on the couch, he softly paced the +floor; and when the coming day sent its first dingy light into the back +yards and into the little sitting-room he was still without a feasible +scheme. A little later he turned down the gas and went into the street. +He came back after two hours, still lacking a plan, but quieter and with +better control of his mind. + +"I suppose you settled the strike last night?" said Maggie, who was +preparing breakfast. + +"I can hardly say I did," he returned abstractedly. + +She did not immediately follow up her query, but in a few minutes she +came into the sitting-room where Tom sat. Determination had marked her +face with hard lines. "You're planning something," she began. "And it's +about the strike. It was that letter that kept you up all night. Now +you're scheming to put off settling the strike, ain't you?" + +"Well,--suppose I am?" he asked quietly. He avoided her eyes, and looked +across at the opposite windows that framed instant-long pictures of +hurrying women. + +"I know you are. I've been doing some thinking, too, while you were out +this morning, and it was an easy guess for me to know that when you +thought all night you weren't thinking about anything else except how +you could put off ending up the strike." + +One thing that his love for Ruth had shown Tom was that mental +companionship could, and should, exist between man and wife; and one +phase of his gentleness with Maggie was that latterly he had striven to +talk to her of such matters as formerly he had spoken of only out of his +own home. + +"Yes, you're right; I am thinking what you say," he began, knowing he +could trust her with his precious information. "But you don't +understand, Maggie. I am thinking how I can defeat settling the strike +because I know Foley is selling the union out." + +Incredulity smoothed out a few of Maggie's hard lines. "You can prove +it?" + +"I am going to try to get the facts." + +"How?" + +"I don't know," he had to admit, after a pause. + +She gave a little laugh, and the hard lines came back. "Another crazy +plan. You lose the best job you ever had. You try to beat Foley out as +walking delegate, and get beat. You start a strike; it's the same as +lost. You push yourself into that Avon business--and you're only out on +bail, and we'll never live down the disgrace. You've ruined us, and +disgraced us, and yet you ain't satisfied. Here you are with another +scheme. And what are you going on? Just a guess, nothing else, that +Foley's selling out!" + +Tom took it all in silence. + +"Now you listen to me!" Her voice was fiercely mandatory, yet it lacked +something of its old-time harshness; Tom's gentleness had begun to rouse +its like in her. "Everything you've tried lately has been a failure. You +know that. Now don't make us any worse off than we are--and you will if +you try another fool scheme. For God's sake, let the strike be settled +and get back to work!" + +"I suppose you think you're right, Maggie. But--you don't understand," +he returned helplessly. + +"Yes, I do understand," she said grimly. "And I not only think I'm +right, but I know I'm right. Who's been right every time?" + +Tom did not answer her question, and after looking down on him a minute +longer, she said, "You remember what I've just told you," and returned +to the preparation of breakfast. + +As soon as he had eaten Tom escaped into the street and made for the +little park that had once been a burying-ground. Here his mind set to +work again. It was more orderly now, and soon he was proceeding +systematically in his search for a plan by the method of elimination. +Plan after plan was discarded as the morning hurried by, till he at +length had this left as the only possibility, to follow Baxter and Foley +every minute during this day and the next. But straightway he saw the +impossibility of this only possible plan: he and any of his friends were +too well known by Foley to be able to shadow him, even had they the +experience to fit them for such work. A few minutes later, however, this +impossibility was gone. He could hire detectives. + +He turned the plan over in his mind. There was, perhaps, but one chance +in a thousand the detectives would discover anything--perhaps hardly +that. But this fight was his fight for life, and this one chance was his +last chance. + +At noon a private detective agency had in its safe Petersen's thirty +dollars and a check for the greater part of Tom's balance at the bank. + + + + +Chapter XXVIII + +THE EXPOSURE + + +Tom's arrangement with the detective agency was that Baxter and Foley +were to be watched day and night, and that he was to have as frequent +reports as it was possible to give. Just before six o'clock that same +afternoon he called at the office for his first report. It was ready--a +minute account of the movements of the two men between one and five. +There was absolutely nothing in it of value to him, except that its +apparent completeness was a guarantee that if anything was to be found +the men on the case would find it. + +Never before in Tom's life had there been as many hours between an +evening and a morning. He dared not lessen his suspense and the hours by +discussing his present move with friends; they could not help him, and, +if he told them, there was the possibility that some word might slip to +Foley which would rouse suspicion and destroy the thousandth chance. But +at length morning came, and at ten o'clock Tom was at the detective +agency. Again there was a minute report, the sum of whose worth to him +was--nothing. + +He went into the street and walked, fear and suspense mounting higher +and higher. In ten hours the union would meet to decide, and as yet he +had no bit of evidence. At twelve o'clock he was at the office again. +There was nothing for him. Eight more hours. At two o'clock, dizzy and +shaking from suspense, he came into the office for the third time that +day. A report was waiting. + +He glanced it through, then trying to speak calmly, said to the manager: +"Send anything else to my house." + +Tom had said to himself that he had one chance in a thousand. But this +was a miscalculation. His chance had been better than that, and had been +made so by Mr. Baxter's shrewd arrangement for his dealings with Foley, +based upon his theory that one of the surest ways of avoiding suspicion +is to do naturally and openly the thing you would conceal. Mr. Baxter's +theory overlooked the possibility that suspicion might already be roused +and on watch. + +Tom did not look at the sheet of paper in the hallway or in the street; +with three thousand union men in the street, all of whom knew him, one +was likely to pounce upon him at any minute and gain his secret +prematurely. With elation hammering against his ribs, he hurried through +a cross street toward the little park, which in the last five months had +come to be his study. The sheet of paper was buttoned tightly in his +coat, but all the time his brain was reading a few jerky phrases in the +detail-packed report. + +In the park, and on a bench having the seclusion of a corner, he drew +the report from his pocket and read it eagerly, several times. Here was +as much as he had hoped for--evidence that what he had suspected was +true. With the few relevant facts of the report as a basis he began to +reconstruct the secret proceedings of the last three weeks. At each step +he tested conjectures till he found the only one that perfectly fitted +all the known circumstances. Progress from the known backward to the +unknown was not difficult, and by five o'clock the reconstruction was +complete. He then began to lay his plans for the evening. + +Tom preferred not to face Maggie, with her demands certain to be +repeated, so he had his dinner in a restaurant whose only virtue was its +cheapness. At half past seven he arrived at Potomac Hall, looking as +much his usual self as he could. He passed with short nods the groups of +men who stood before the building--some of whom had once been his +supporters, but who now nodded negligently--and entered the big +bar-room. There were perhaps a hundred men here, all talking loudly; but +comparatively few were drinking or smoking--money was too scarce. He +paused an instant just within the door and glanced about. The men he +looked for were not there, and he started rapidly across the room. + +"Hello, Keating! How's your strike?" called one of the crowd, a man +whom, two months before, he himself had convinced a strike should be +made. + +"Eat-'Em-Up Keating, who don't know when he's had enough!" shouted +another, with a jeer. + +"Three cheers for Keating!" cried a third, and led off with a groan. The +three groans were given heartily, and at their end the men broke into +laughter. + +Tom burned at these crude insults, but kept straight on his way. + +There were also friends in the crowd,--a few. When the laughter died +down one cried out: "What's the matter with Keating?" The set answer +came, "He's all right!"--but very weak. It was followed by an outburst +of groans and hisses. + +As Tom was almost at the door the stub of a cigar struck smartly beneath +his ear, and the warm ashes slipped down inside his collar. There was +another explosion of laughter. Tom whirled about, and with one blow sent +to the floor the man who had thrown the cigar. The laugh broke off, and +in the sudden quiet Tom passed out of the bar-room and joined the stream +of members going up the broad stairway and entering the hall. + +The hall was more than half filled with men--some sitting patiently in +their chairs, some standing with one foot on chair seats, some standing +in the aisles and leaning against the walls, all discussing the same +subject, the abandonment of the strike. The general mood of the men was +one of bitter eagerness, as it was also the mood of the men below, for +all their coarse jesting,--the bitterness of admitted defeat, the +eagerness to be back at their work without more delay. + +Tom glanced around, and immediately he saw Petersen coming toward him, +his lean brown face glowing. + +"Hello, Petersen. I was looking for you," he said in a whisper when the +Swede had gained his side. "I want you by me to-night." + +"Yah." + +Petersen's manner announced that he wanted to speak, and Tom now +remembered, what he had forgotten in his two days' absorption, the +circumstances under which he had last seen the Swede. "How are things at +home?" he asked. + +"Ve be goin' to move. A better house." After this bit of loquacity +Petersen smiled blissfully--and said no more. + +Tom told Petersen to join him later, and then hurried over to Barry and +Jackson, whom he saw talking with a couple other of his friends in the +front of the hall. "Boys, I want to tell you something in a minute," he +whispered. "Where's Pete?" + +"The committee's havin' a meetin' in Connelly's office," answered Barry. + +Tom hurried to Connelly's office and knocked. "Come in," a voice called, +and he opened the door. The five men were just leaving their chairs. + +"Hello, Pete. Can I see you as soon's you're through?" Tom asked. + +"Sure. Right now." + +Connelly improved the opportunity by offering Tom some advice, +emphasized in the customary manner, and ended with the request: "Now for +God's sake, keep your wind-hole plugged up to-night!" + +Tom did not reply, but as he was starting away with Pete he heard Foley +say to the secretary: "Youse can't blame him, Connelly. Some o' the rest +of us know it ain't so easy to give up a fight." + +Tom found Barry, Petersen and the three others waiting, and with them +was Johnson, who having noticed Tom whispering to them had carelessly +joined the group during his absence. "If you fellows'll step back here +I'll finish that little thing I was telling," he said, and led the way +to a rear corner, a dozen yards away from the nearest group. + +When he turned to face the six, he found there were seven. Johnson had +followed. Tom hesitated. He did not care to speak before Johnson; he had +always held that person in light esteem because of his variable +opinions. And he did not care to ask Johnson to leave; that course might +beget a scene which in turn would beget suspicion. It would be better to +speak before him, and then see that he remained with the group. + +"Don't show the least surprise while I'm talking; act like it was +nothing at all," he began in a whisper. And then he told them in a few +sentences what he had discovered, and what he planned to do. + +They stared at him in astonishment. "Don't look like that or you'll give +away that we've got a scheme up our sleeves," he warned them. "Now I +want you fellows to stand by me. There may be trouble. Come on, let's +get our seats. The meeting will open pretty soon." + +He had already picked out a spot, at the front end on the right side, +the corner formed by the wall and the grand piano. He now led the way +toward this. Half-way up the aisle he chanced to look behind him. There +were only six men. Johnson was gone. + +"Take the seats up there," he whispered, and hurried out of the hall, +with a fear that Johnson at that minute might be revealing what he had +heard to Foley. But when he reached the head of the stairway he saw at +its foot Foley, Hogan, and Brown starting slowly up. With sudden relief +he turned back and joined his party. A little later Connelly mounted +the platform and gave a few preliminary raps on his table, and Johnson +was forgotten. + +The men standing about the hall found seats. Word was sent to the +members loitering below that the meeting was beginning, and they came up +in a straggling body, two hundred strong. Every chair was filled; men +had to stand in the aisles, and along the walls, and in the rear where +there were no seats. It was the largest gathering of the union there had +been in three years. Tom noted this, and was glad. + +All the windows were open, but yet the hall was suffocatingly close. +Hundreds of cigars were momently making it closer, and giving the upper +stratum of the room's atmosphere more and more the appearance of a +solid. Few coats were on; they hung over the arms of those standing, and +lay in the laps of those who sat. Connelly, putting down his gavel, took +off his collar and tie and laid them on his table, an example that was +given the approval of general imitation. Everywhere faces were being +mopped. + +Connelly rapped again, and stood waiting till quiet had spread among the +fifteen hundred men. "I guess you all know what we're here for," he +began. "If there's no objection I guess we can drop the regular order o' +business and get right to the strike." + +There was a general cry of "consent." + +"Very well. Then first we'll hear from the strike committee." + +Foley, as chairman of the strike committee, should have spoken for it; +but the committee, being aware of the severe humiliation he was +suffering, and to save him what public pain it could, had +sympathetically decided that some other member should deliver its +report. And Foley, with his cunning that extended even to the smallest +details, had suggested Pete, and Pete had been selected. + +Pete now rose, and with hands on Tom's shoulders, calmly spoke what the +committee had ordered. The committee's report was that it had nothing +new to report. After carefully considering every circumstance it saw no +possible way of winning the strike. It strongly advised the union to +yield at once, as further fighting meant only further loss of wages. + +Pete was hardly back in his seat when it was moved and seconded that the +union give up the strike. A great stamping and cries of "That's right!" +"Give it up!" "Let's get back to work!" joined to give the motion a +tremendous uproar of approval. + +"You have heard the motion," said Connelly. "Any remarks?" + +Men sprang up in all parts of the crowd, and for over an hour there were +brief speeches, every one in favor of yielding. In substance they were +the same: "Since the strike's lost, let's get back to work and not lose +any more wages." Every speaker was applauded with hand-clapping, stamps, +and shouts; an enthusiasm for retreat had seized the crowd. Foley was +called for, but did not respond. Other speakers did, however, and the +enthusiasm developed to the spirit of a panic. Through speeches, shouts, +and stamping Tom sat quietly, biding his time. + +Several of the speakers made bitter flings at the leadership that had +involved them in this disastrous strike. Finally one man, spurred to +abandon by applause, ended his hoarse invective by moving the expulsion +of the members who had led the union into the present predicament. So +far Foley had sat with face down, without a word, in obvious dejection. +But when this last speaker was through he rose slowly to his feet. At +sight of him an eager quiet possessed the meeting. + +"I can't say's I blame youse very much for what youse've said," he +began, in a voice that was almost humble, looking toward the man who had +just sat down. "I helped get the union into the strike, yes, an' I want +youse boys"--his eyes moved over the crowd--"to give me all the blame +that's comin' to me." + +A pause. "But I ain't the only one. I didn't do as much to bring on the +strike as some others." His glance rested on Tom. "The fact is, I really +didn't go in for the strike till I saw all o' youse seemed to be in for +it. Then o' course I did, for I'm always with youse. An' I fought hard, +so long's there was a chance. Mebbe there's a few"--another glance at +Tom--"that'd like to have us keep on fightin'--an' starve. Blame me all +youse want to, boys--but Buck Foley don't want none o' youse to starve." + +He sank slowly back into his chair. "You did your best, Buck!" a voice +shouted, and a roar of cheers went up. To those near him he seemed to +brighten somewhat at this encouragement. + +"Three cheers for Keating!" cried the man who had raised this shout in +the bar-room, springing to his feet. And again he led off with three +groans, which the crowd swelled to a volume matching the cheers for +Foley. Connelly, in deference to his office, pounded with his gavel and +called for silence--but weakly. + +Tom flushed and his jaw tightened, but he kept his seat. + +The crowd began once more to demand Foley's views on the question before +the house. He shook his head at Connelly, as he had repeatedly done +before. But the meeting would not accept his negative. They added the +clapping of hands and the stamping of feet to their cries. Foley came up +a second time, with most obvious reluctance. + +"I feel sorter like the man that was run over by a train an' had his +tongue cut out," he began, making what the union saw was a hard effort +to smile. "I don't feel like sayin' much. + +"It seems to me that everything worth sayin' has been said already," he +went on in his previous humble, almost apologetic, tone. "What I've got +to say I'll say in the shadow of a minute. I size up the whole thing +like this: We went into this strike thinkin' we'd win, an' because we +needed more money. An' boys, we ought to have it! But we made a mistake +somewhere. I guess youse've found out that in a fight it ain't always +the man that's right that wins. It's the strongest man. The same in a +strike. We're right, and we've fought our best, but the other fellows +are settin' on our chests. I guess our mistake was, we wasn't as strong +when we went into the fight as we thought we was. + +"Now the question, as I see it, is: Do we want to keep the other fellow +on our chests, we all fagged out, with him mebbe punchin' our faces +whenever he feels like it?--keep us there till we're done up forever? Or +do we want to give in an' say we've had enough? He'll let us up, we'll +take a rest, we'll get back our wind an' strength, an' when we're good +an' ready, why, another fight, an' better luck! I know which is my +style, an' from what youse boys've said here to-night, I can make a +pretty good guess as to what's your style." + +He paused for a moment, and when he began again his voice was lower and +there was a deep sadness in it that he could not hide. "Boys, this is +the hardest hour o' my life. I ain't very used to losin' fights. I think +youse can count in a couple o' days all the fights I lost for youse. [A +cry, "Never a one, Buck!"] An' it comes mighty hard for me to begin to +lose now. If I was to do what I want to do, I'd say, 'Let's never give +in.' But I know what's best for the union, boys ... an' so I lose my +first strike." + +He sank back into his seat, and his head fell forward upon his breast. +There was a moment of sympathetic silence, then an outburst of shouts: +"It ain't your fault!" "You've done your best!" "You take your lickin' +like a man!" But these individual shouts were straightway lost in cries +of "Foley!" "Foley!" and in a mighty cheer that thundered through the +hall. Next to a game fighter men admire a game loser. + +This was Tom's moment. He had been waiting till Foley should place +himself on record before the entire union. He now stood up and raised +his right hand to gain Connelly's attention. "Mr. Chairman!" he called. + +"Question!" "Question!" shouted the crowd, few even noticing that Tom +was claiming right of speech. + +"Mr. Chairman!" Tom cried again. + +Connelly's attention was caught, and for an instant he looked +irresolutely at Tom. The crowd, following their president's eyes, saw +Tom and broke into a great hiss. + +"D'you want any more speeches?" Connelly put to the union. + +"No!" "No!" "Question!" "Question!" + +"All in favor of the motion----" + +The desperate strait demanded an eminence to speak from, but the way to +the platform was blocked. Tom vaulted to the top of the grand piano, and +his eyes blazed down upon the crowd. + +"You shall listen to me!" he shouted, breaking in on Connelly. His right +arm pointed across the hall to where Foley was bowed in humiliation. +"Buck Foley has sold you out!" + +In the great din his voice did not carry more than a dozen rows, but +upon those rows silence fell suddenly. "What was that?" men just behind +asked excitedly, their eyes on Tom standing on the piano, his arm +stretched toward Foley. A tide of explanation moved backward, and the +din sank before it. + +Tom shouted again: "Buck Foley has sold you out!" + +This time his words reached the farthest man in the hall. There was an +instant of stupefied quiet. Then Foley himself stood up. He seemed to +have paled a shade, but there was not a quaver in his voice when he +spoke. + +"This's a nice little stage play our friend's made up for the last +minute. He's been fightin' a settlement right along, an' this is his +last trick to get youse to put it off. He's sorter like a blind friend +o' mine who went fishin' one day. He got turned with his back to the +river, an' he fished all day in the grass. I think Keating's got turned +in the wrong direction, too." + +A few in the crowd laughed waveringly; some began to talk excitedly; but +most looked silently at Tom, still stunned by his blow-like declaration. + +Tom paid no attention to Foley's words. "Fifty thousand dollars was what +he got!" he said in his loudest voice. + +For the moment it was as if those fifteen hundred men had been struck +dumb and helpless. Again it was Foley who broke the silence. He reared +his long body above the bewildered crowd and spoke easily. "If youse +boys don't see through that lie youse're blind. If I was runnin' the +strike alone an' wanted to sell it out, what Keating's said might be +possible. But I ain't runnin' it. A committee is--five men. Now how +d'youse suppose I could sell out with four men watchin' me--an' one o' +them a friend o' Keating?" + +He did not wait for a response from his audience. He turned to Connelly +and went on with a provoked air: "Mr. Chairman, youse know, an' the rest +o' the committee knows, that it was youse who suggested we give up the +strike. An' youse know I held out again' givin' in. Now ain't we had +enough o' Keating's wind? S'pose youse put the question." + +What Foley had said was convincing; and, even at this instant, Tom +himself could but admire the self-control, the air of provoked +forbearance, with which he said it. The quiet, easy speech had given the +crowd time to recover. As Foley sat down there was a sudden tumult of +voices, and then loud cries of "Question!" "Question!" + +"Order, Mr. Chairman! I demand the right to speak!" Tom cried. + +"No one wants to hear you, and the question's called for." + +Tom turned to the crowd. "It's for you to say whether you'll hear me +or----" + +"Out of order!" shouted Connelly. + +"I've got facts, men! Facts! Will it hurt you to hear me? You can vote +as you please, then!" + +"Question!" went up a roar, and immediately after it a greater and +increasing roar of "Keating!" "Keating!" + +Connelly could but yield. He pounded for order, then nodded at Tom. +"Well, go on." + +Tom realized the theatricality of his position on the piano, but he also +realized its advantage, and did not get down. He waited a moment to gain +control of his mind, and his eyes moved over the rows and rows of faces +that gleamed dully from sweat and excitement through the haze of smoke. + +What he had to say first was pure conjecture, but he spoke with the +convincing decision of the man who has guessed at nothing. "You've heard +the other men speak. All I ask of you is to hear me out the same way. +And I have something far more important to say than anything that's been +said here to-night. I am going to tell you the story of the most +scoundrelly trick that was ever played on a trade union. For the union +has been sold out, and Buck Foley lies when he says it has not, and he +knows he lies!" + +Every man was listening intently. Tom went on: "About three weeks ago, +just when negotiations were opened again, Foley arranged with the bosses +to sell out the strike. Fifty thousand dollars was the price. The bosses +were to make a million or more out of the deal, Foley was to make fifty +thousand, and we boys were to pay for it all! Foley's work was to fool +the committee, make them lose confidence in the strike, and they of +course would make the union lose confidence and we'd give up. That was +his job, and for it he was to have fifty thousand dollars. + +"Well, he was the man for the job. He worked the committee, and worked +it so slick it never knew it was being worked. He even made the +committee think it was urging him to give up the strike. How he did it, +it's beyond me or any other honest man even to guess. No one could have +done it but Foley. He's the smoothest crook that ever happened. I give +you that credit, Buck Foley. You're the smoothest crook that ever +happened!" + +Foley had come to his feet with a look that was more of a glaring scowl +than anything else: eyebrows drawn down shaggily, a gully between +them--nose drawn up and nostrils flaring--jaws clenched--the whole face +clenched. "Mr. President, are youse goin' to let that man go on with his +lies?" he broke in fiercely. + +The crowd roused from its tension. "Go on, Keating! Go on!" + +"If he goes on with them lies, I for one ain't goin' to stay to listen +to 'em!" Foley grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and started +to edge through to the aisle. + +"If you leave, Buck Foley, it's the same as a confession of guilt!" +shouted Tom. "Stay here and defend yourself like a man, if you can!" + +"Against youse?" He laughed a dry cackling laugh, and his returning +self-mastery smoothed out his face. And then his inherent bravado showed +itself. On reaching the aisle, instead of turning toward the door, he +turned toward the platform and seated himself on its edge, directing a +look of insouciant calm upon the men. + +"Whatever lies there are, are all yours, Buck Foley," Tom went on. He +looked again at the crowd, bending toward him in attention. "The trick +worked. How well is shown by our being on the point of voting to give up +the strike. Little by little our confidence was destroyed by doubt, and +little by little Foley got nearer to his money--till to-day came. I'm +speaking facts now, boys. I've got evidence for everything I'm going to +tell you. I know every move Foley's made in the last thirty-six hours. + +"Well, this morning,--I'll only give the big facts, facts that +count,--this morning he went to get the price of us--fifty thousand +dollars. Where do you suppose he met Baxter? In some hotel, or some +secret place? Not much. Cunning! That word don't do justice to Foley. He +met Baxter in Baxter's own office!--and with the door open! Could +anything be more in harmony with the smooth scheme by which he fooled +the committee? He left the door wide open, so everyone outside could +hear that nothing crooked was going on. He swore at Baxter. He called +him every sort of name because he would not make us any concession. +After a minute or two he came out, still swearing mad. His coat was +buttoned up--tight. It was unbuttoned when he went in. And the people +that heard thought what an awful calling-down Baxter had got. + +"Foley went first to the Independence Bank. He left seventeen thousand +there. At the Jackson Bank he left fifteen thousand, and at the Third +National eighteen thousand. Fifty thousand dollars, boys--his price for +selling us out! And he comes here to-night and pretends to be +broken-hearted. 'This is the hardest hour of my life,' he says; 'and so +I lose my first strike.' Broken-hearted!--with fifty thousand put in the +bank in one day!" + +There was a tense immobility through all the crowd, and a profound +stillness, quickly broken by Foley before anyone else could forestall +him. There was a chance that Tom's words had not caught hold--his +thousandth chance. + +"If that fool is through ravin', better put the motion, Connelly," he +remarked the instant Tom ended, in an even tone that reached the +farthest edge of the hall. No one looking at him at this instant, still +sitting on the edge of the platform, would have guessed his show of +calmness was calling from him the supreme effort of his life. + +Voices buzzed, then there rose a dull roar of anger. + +It had been Foley's last chance, and he had lost. He threw off his +control, and leaped to his feet, his face twisted with vengeful rage. He +tossed his hat and coat on the platform, and without a word made a rush +through the men toward Tom. + +"Let him through, boys!" Tom shouted, and sprang from the piano. +Petersen stepped quickly to his side, but Tom pushed him away and waited +in burning eagerness in the little open space. And the crowd, still +dazed by the revelations of the last scene, looked fascinated upon this +new one. + +But at this moment an interruption came from the rear of the hall. +"Letter for Foley!" shouted a voice. "Letter for Foley!" + +Foley paused in his rush, and turned his livid face toward the cry. The +sergeant-at-arms was pushing his way through the center aisle, repeating +his shout, his right hand holding an envelope aloft. He gained Foley's +side and laid the letter in the walking delegate's hand. "Messenger just +brought it! Very important!" he cried. + +Foley glared at Tom, looked at the letter, hesitated, then ripped open +the envelope with a bony forefinger. The crowd looked on, hardly +breathing, while he read. + + + + +Chapter XXIX + +IN WHICH MR. BAXTER SHOWS HIMSELF A MAN OF RESOURCES + + +It was just eight o'clock when Johnson gave three excited raps with the +heavy iron knocker on the door of Mr. Baxter's house in Madison Avenue. +A personage in purple evening clothes drew the door wide open, but on +seeing the sartorial character of the caller he filled the doorway with +his own immaculate figure. + +"Is Mr. Baxter at home?" asked Johnson eagerly. + +"He is just going out," the other condescended to reply. + +That should have been enough to dispose of this common fellow. But +Johnson kept his place. "I want to see him, for just a minute. Tell him +my name. He'll see me. It's Johnson." + +The personage considered a space, then disappeared to search for Mr. +Baxter; first showing his discretion by closing the door--with Johnson +outside of it. He quickly reappeared and led Johnson across a hall that +was as large as Johnson's flat, up a broad stairway, and through a wide +doorway into the library, where he left him, standing, to gain what he +could from sight of the rows and rows of leather-backed volumes. + +Almost at once Mr. Baxter entered, dressed in a dinner coat. + +"You have something to tell me?" he asked quickly. + +"Yes." + +"This way." Mr. Baxter led Johnson into a smaller room, opening upon the +library, furnished with little else besides a flat-top walnut desk, a +telephone, and a typewriter on a low table. Here Mr. Baxter sometimes +attended to his correspondence, with the assistance of a stenographer +sent from the office, when he did not feel like going downtown; and in +here, when the mood was on him, he sometimes slipped to write bits of +verse, a few of which he had published in magazines under a pseudonym. + +Mr. Baxter closed the door, took the chair at the desk and waved Johnson +to the stenographer's. "I have only a minute. What is it?" + +For all his previous calls on Mr. Baxter, this refined presence made +Johnson dumb with embarrassment. He would have been more at his ease had +he had the comfort of fumbling his hat, but the purple personage had +gingerly taken his battered derby from him at the door. + +"Well?" said Mr. Baxter, a bit impatiently. + +Johnson found his voice and rapidly told of Tom's discovery, as he had +heard it from Tom twenty minutes before, and of the exposure that was +going to be made that evening. At first Mr. Baxter seemed to start; the +hand on the desk did certainly tighten. But that was all. + +"Did Mr. Keating say, in this story he proposes to tell, whether we +offered Mr. Foley money to sell out, or whether Mr. Foley demanded it?" +he asked, when Johnson had ended. + +"He didn't say. He didn't seem to know." + +Mr. Baxter did not speak for a little while; then he said, with a quiet +carelessness: "What you have told me is of no great importance, though +it probably seems so to you. It might, however, have been of great +value. So I want to say to you that I thoroughly appreciate the +promptness with which you have brought me this intelligence. If I can +still depend upon your faithfulness, and your secrecy----" Mr. Baxter +paused. + +"Always," said Johnson eagerly. + +"And your secrecy--" this with a slight emphasis, the gray eyes looking +right through Johnson; "you can count upon an early token of +appreciation, in excess of what regularly comes to you." + +"You've always found you could count on me, ain't you?" + +"Yes." + +"And you always can!" + +Mr. Baxter touched a button beneath his desk. "Have Mitchell show Mr. +Johnson out," he said to the maid who answered the ring. "Do you know +where Mrs. Baxter is?" + +"In her room, sir." + +Johnson bowed awkwardly, and backed away after the maid. + +"Good-night," Mr. Baxter said shortly, and followed the two out. He +crossed the library with the intention of going to the room of his +wife, who had come to town to be with him during the crisis of the +expected victory, but he met her in the hall ready to go out. + +"My dear, some important business has just come up," he said. "I'm +afraid there's nothing for me to do but to attend to it to-night." + +"That's too bad! I don't care for myself, for it's only one of those +stupid musical comedies. I only cared to go because I thought it would +help you through the suspense of the evening." + +After the exchange of a few more words he kissed her and she went +quietly back to her room. He watched her a moment, wondering if she +would bear herself with such calm grace if she knew what awaited him in +to-morrow's papers. + +He passed quickly back into the little office, and locked the door +behind him. Then the composure he had worn before Johnson and his wife +swiftly vanished; and he sat at the desk with interlocked hands, facing +the most critical situation of his life. There was no doubting what +Johnson had told him. + +When to-morrow's papers appeared with their certain stories--first page, +big headlines--of how he and other members of the Executive Committee, +all gentlemen of reputation, had bribed a walking delegate, and a +notoriously corrupt walking delegate, to sell out the Iron Workers' +strike--the members of the committee would be dishonored forever, and he +dishonored more than all. And his wife, how could she bear this? How +could he explain to her, who believed him nothing but honor, once this +story was out? + +He forced these sickening thoughts from his brain. He had no time for +them. Disgrace must be avoided, if possible, and every minute was of +honor's consequence. He strained his mind upon the crisis. The strike +was now nothing; of first importance, of only importance, was how to +escape disgrace. + +It was the peculiar quality of Mr. Baxter's trained mind that he saw, +with almost instant directness, the best chance in a business situation. +Two days before it had taken Tom from eleven to eleven, twelve hours, to +see his only chance. Mr. Baxter now saw his only chance in less than +twelve minutes. + +His only chance was to forestall exposure, by being the first to tell +the story publicly. He saw his course clearly--to rush straight to the +District Attorney, to tell a story almost identical with Tom's, and that +varied from the facts on only two points. First of these two points, the +District Attorney was to be told that Foley had come to them demanding +fifty thousand dollars as the price of settlement. Second, that they had +seen in this demand a chance to get the hands of the law upon this +notorious walking delegate; that they had gone into the plan with the +sole purpose of gaining evidence against him and bringing him to +justice; that they had been able to secure a strong case of extortion +against him, and now demanded his arrest. This same story was to go to +the newspapers before they could possibly get Tom's. The committee would +then appear to the world in no worse light than having stooped to the +use of somewhat doubtful means to rid themselves and the union of a +piratical blackmailer. + +Mr. Baxter glanced at his watch. It was half-past eight. He stepped to +the telephone, found the number of the home telephone of the District +Attorney, and rang him up. He was in, luckily, and soon had the receiver +at his ear. Could Mr. Baxter see him in half an hour on a matter of +importance--of great public importance? Mr. Baxter could. + +He next rang up Mr. Murphy, who had been with him in his office that +morning when the money had been handed to Foley. Mr. Murphy was also at +home, and answered the telephone himself. Could Mr. Baxter meet him in +fifteen minutes in the lobby of the Waldorf-Astoria? Very important. Mr. +Murphy could. + +As he left the telephone it struck him that while the committee must +seemingly make every effort to secure Foley's arrest, it would be far +better for them if Foley escaped. If arrested, he would naturally turn +upon them and tell his side of the affair. Nobody would believe him, for +he was one against five, but all the same he could start a most +unpleasant story. + +One instant the danger flashed upon Mr. Baxter. The next instant his +plan for its avoidance was ready. He seated himself at the typewriter, +drew off its black sole-leather case, ran in a sheet of plain white +paper, and, picking at the keys, slowly wrote a message to Foley. That +finished, he ran in a plain envelope, which he addressed to Foley at +Potomac Hall. This letter he would leave at the nearest messenger +office. + +Five minutes later Mr. Baxter, in a business suit, passed calmly through +his front door, opened for him by the purple personage, and out into the +street. + + + + +Chapter XXX + +THE LAST OF BUCK FOLEY + + +The letter which Foley read, while the union looked on, hardly +breathing, was as follows: + + All is over. The District Attorney will be told to-night you held + them up, forcing them to give you the amount you received. They have + all the evidence; you have none. Their hands are clean. Against you + it is a perfect case of extortion. + +Though the note was unsigned, Foley knew instantly from whom it came. +The contractors, then, were going to try to clear themselves, and he was +to be made the scapegoat. He was to be arrested; perhaps at once. Foley +had thought over his situation before, its possibilities and its +dangers. His mind worked quickly now. If he came to trial, they had the +witnesses as the note said--and he had none. As they would be able to +make it out, it would be a plain case of extortion against him. He could +not escape conviction, and conviction meant years in Sing Sing. Truly, +all was over. He saw his only chance in an instant--to escape. + +The reading of the note, and this train of thought, used less than a +minute. Foley crushed the sheet of paper and envelope into a ball and +thrust them into a trousers pocket, and looked up with the +determination to try his only chance. His eyes fell upon what in the +tense absorption of the minute he had almost forgotten--fifteen hundred +men staring at him with fixed waiting faces, and one man staring at him +with clenched fists in vengeful readiness. + +At sight of Tom his decision to escape was swept out of him by an +overmastering fury. He rushed toward Tom through the alleyway the men +had automatically opened at Tom's command. But Petersen stepped quickly +out, a couple of paces ahead of Tom, to meet him. + +"Out o' the way, youse!" he snarled. + +But Petersen did not get out of the way, and before Tom could interfere +to save the fight for himself, Foley struck out savagely. Petersen gave +back a blow, just one, the blow that had gained the fight for him a week +ago. Foley went to the floor, and lay there. + +This flash of action released the crowd from the spell that held them. +They were roused from statues to a mob. "Kill him! Kill him!" someone +shouted, and instantly the single cry swelled to a tremendous roar. + +Had it not been for Tom, Foley would have come to his end then and +there. The fifteen hundred men started forward, crushing through aisles, +upsetting the folding chairs and tramping over their collapsed frames, +pushing and tearing at each other to get to where Foley lay. Tom saw +that in an instant the front of that vindictive mob would be stamping +the limp body of the walking delegate into pulp. He sprang to Foley's +side, seized him by his collar and dragged him forward into the space +between the piano and the end wall, so that the heavy instrument was a +breastwork against the union's fury. + +"Here Petersen, Pete, the rest of you!" he cried. The little group that +had stood round him during the meeting rushed forward. "In there!" He +pushed them, as a guard, into the gap before Foley's body. + +Then he faced about. The fore of that great tumult of wrath was already +pressing upon him and the little guard, and the men behind were fighting +forward over chairs, over each other, swearing and crying for Foley's +death. + +"Stop!" shouted Tom. Connelly, stricken with helplessness, completely +lost, pounded weakly with his gavel. + +"Kill him!" roared the mob. "Kill the traitor!" + +"Disgrace the union by murder?" Tom shouted. "Kill him?--what punishment +is that? Nothing at all! Let the law give him justice!" + +The cries from the rear of the hall still went up, but the half dozen +men who had crowded, and been crowded, upon the little guard now drew +back, and Tom thought his words were having their effect. But a quick +glance over his shoulder showed him Petersen, in fighting posture--and +he knew why the front men had hesitated; and also showed him Foley +leaning dizzily against the piano. + +The hesitation on the part of the front rank lasted for but an instant. +They were swept forward by the hundreds behind them, and Foley's line of +defenders was crushed against the wall. It was all up with Foley, Tom +thought; this onslaught would be the last of him. And as his own body +went against the wall under the mob's terrific pressure, he had a +gasping wish that he had not interfered two minutes before. The breath +was all out of him, he thought his ribs were going to crack, he was +growing faint and dizzy--when the pressure suddenly released and the +furious uproar hushed almost to stillness. He regained his balance and +his breath and glanced dazedly about. + +There, calmly standing on the piano and leaning against the wall, was +Foley, his left hand in his trousers pocket, his right uplifted to +command attention. + +"Boys, I feel it sorter embarrassin' to interrupt your little +entertainment like this," he began blandly, but breathing very heavily. +"But I suppose I won't have many more chances to make speeches before +youse, an' I want to make about a remark an' a half. What's past--well, +youse know. But what I got to say about the future is all on the level. +Go in an' beat the contractors! Youse can beat 'em. An' beat 'em like +hell!" + +He paused, and gave an almost imperceptible glance toward an open window +a few feet away, and moved a step nearer it. A look of baiting defiance +came over his face, and he went on: "As for youse fellows. The whole +crowd o' youse just tried to do me up--a thousand or two again' one. I +fooled the whole bunch o' youse once. An' I can lick the whole bunch o' +youse, too!--one at a time. But not just now!" + +With his last word he sprang across to the sill of the open window, five +feet away. Tom had noted Foley's glance and his edging toward the +window, and guessing that Foley contemplated some new move, he had held +himself in readiness for anything. He sprang after Foley, thinking the +walking delegate meant to leap to his death on the stone-paved court +below, and threw his arms about the other's knees. In the instant of +embracing he noticed a fire-escape landing across the narrow court, an +easy jump--and he knew that Foley had had no thought of death. + +As Tom jerked Foley from the window sill he tripped over a chair and +fell backward to the floor, the walking delegate's body upon him. Foley +was on his feet in an instant, but Tom lay where he was with the breath +knocked out of him. He dimly heard the union break again into cries; +feet trampled him; he felt a keen shooting pain. Then he was conscious +that some force was turning the edge of the mob from its path; then he +was lifted up and placed at the window out of which he had just dragged +Foley; and then, Petersen's arm supporting him, he stood weakly on one +foot holding to the sill. + +For an instant he had a glimpse of Foley, on the platform, his back to +the wall. During the minute Tom had been on the floor a group of Foley's +roughs, moved by some strange reawakening of loyalty, had rushed to his +aid, but they had gone down; and now Foley stood alone, behind a table, +sneering at the crowd. + +"Come on!" he shouted, with something between a snarl and a laugh, +shaking his clenched fist. "Come on, one at a time, an' I'll do up every +one o' youse!" + +The next instant he went down, and at the spot where he sank the crowd +swayed and writhed as the vortex of a whirlpool. Tom, sickened, turned +his eyes away. + +Turned them to see three policemen and two men in plain clothes with +badges on their lapels enter the hall, stand an instant taking in the +scene, and then with drawn clubs plunge forward into the crowd. The cry +of "Police!" swept from the rear to the front of the hall. + +"We're after Foley!" shouted the foremost officer, a huge fellow with a +huge voice, by way of explanation. "Get out o' the way!" + +The last cry he repeated at every step. The crowd pressed to either +side, and the five men shouldered slowly toward the vortex of the +whirlpool. At length they gained this fiercely swaying tangle of men. + +"If youse kill that man, we'll arrest every one o' youse for murder!" +boomed the voice of the big policeman. + +The vortex became suddenly less violent. The five officers pulled man +after man back, and reached Foley's body. He was lying on his side, +almost against the wall, eyes closed, mouth slightly gaping. He did not +move. + +"Too late!" said the big policeman. "He's dead!" + +His words ran back through the crowd which had so lusted for this very +event. Stillness fell upon it. + +The big policeman stooped and gently turned the long figure over and +placed his hand above the heart. The inner circle of the crowd looked +on, waiting. After a moment the policeman's head nodded. + +"Beatin'?" asked one of the plain clothes men. + +"Yes. But mighty weak." + +"I'll be all right in a minute," said a faint voice. + +The big policeman started and glanced at Foley's face. The eyes were +open, and looking at him. + +"I s'pose youse're from Baxter?" the faint voice continued. + +"From the District Attorney." + +"Yes." A whimsical lightness appeared in the voice. "I been waitin' for +youse. Lucky youse come when youse did. A few minutes later an' youse +might not 'a' found me still waitin'." + +He placed his hands beside him and weakly tried to rise, but fell back +with a little groan. The big policeman and another officer helped him to +his feet. The big policeman tried to keep an arm round him for support, +but Foley pushed it away and leaned against the wall, where he stood a +moment gazing down on the hundreds of faces. His shirt was ripped open +at the neck and down to the waist; one sleeve was almost torn off; his +vest was open and hung in two halves from the back of his neck; coat he +had not had on. His face was beginning to swell, his lips were bloody, +and there was a dripping cut on his forehead. + +One of the plain clothes men drew out a pair of handcuffs. + +"Youse needn't put them on me," Foley said. "I'll go with youse. +Anyhow----" + +He glanced down at his right hand. It was swollen, and was turning +purple. + +The plain clothes man hesitated. + +"Oh, he can't give us no trouble," said the big policeman. + +The handcuffs were pocketed. + +"I'm ready," said Foley. + +It was arranged that two of the uniformed men were to lead the way out, +the big policeman was to come next with Foley, and the two plain clothes +men were to be the rearguard. + +The big policeman placed an arm round Foley's waist. "I better give +youse a lift," he said. + +"Oh, I ain't that weak!" returned Foley. "Come on." He started off +steadily. Certainly he had regained strength in the last few minutes. + +As the six men started a passage opened before them. The little group of +roughs who had come to Foley's defense a few minutes before now fell in +behind. + +Half-way to the door Foley stopped, and addressed the crowd at large: + +"Where's Keating?" + +"Up by the piano," came the answer. + +"Take me to him for a minute, won't youse?" he asked of his guard. + +They consulted, then turned back. Again a passage opened and they +marched to where Tom sat, very pale, leaning against the piano. The +crowd pressed up, eager to get a glimpse of these two enemies, now face +to face for the last time. + +"Look out, Tom!" a voice warned, as Foley, with the policeman at his +side, stepped forth from his guard. + +"Oh, our fight's all over," said Foley. He paused and gazed steadily +down at Tom. None of those looking on could have said there was any +softness in his face, yet few had ever before seen so little harshness +there. + +"I don't know of a man that, an hour ago, I'd 'a' rather put out o' +business than youse, Keating," he at length said quietly. "I don't love +youse now. But the real article is scarce, an' when I meet it--well, I +like to shake hands." + +He held out his left hand. Tom looked hesitantly up into the face of the +man who had brought him to fortune's lowest ebb--and who was now yet +lower himself. Then he laid his left hand in Foley's left. + +Suddenly Foley leaned over and whispered in Tom's ear. Then he +straightened up. "Luck with youse!" he said shortly and turned to his +guards. "Come on." + +Again the crowd made way. Foley marched through the passage, his head +erect, meeting every gaze unshrinkingly. The greater part of the crowd +looked on silently at the passing of their old leader, now torn and +bruised and bleeding, but as defiant as in his best days. A few laughed +and jeered and flung toward him contemptuous words, but Foley heeded +them not, marching steadily on, looking into every face. + +At the door he paused, and with a lean, blood-trickled smile of mockery, +and of an indefinite something else--perhaps regret?--gazed back for a +moment on the men he had led for seven years. Then he called out, +"So-long, boys!" and waved his left hand with an air that was both +jaunty and sardonic. + +He turned about, and wiping the red drops from his face with his bare +left hand, passed out of Potomac Hall. Just behind him and his guard +came the little group of roughs, slipping covert glances among +themselves. And behind them the rest of the union fell in; and the head +of the procession led down the broad stairway and forth into the street. + +Then, without warning, there was a charge of the roughs. The five +officers were in an instant overwhelmed--tripped, or overpowered and +hurled to the pavement--and the roughs swept on. The men behind rushed +forward, and without any such purpose entangled the policemen among +their numbers. It was a minute or more before the five officers were +free and had their bearings, and could begin pursuit and search. + +But Buck Foley was not to be found. + + + + +Chapter XXXI + +TOM'S LEVEE + + +It was seven o'clock the next morning. Tom lay propped up on the couch +in his sitting-room, his foot on a pillow, waiting for Maggie to come +back with the morning papers. A minute before he had asked Ferdinand to +run down and get them for him, but Maggie, who just then had been +starting out for a loaf of bread, had said shortly to the boy that she +would get them herself. + +When Maggie had opened the door the night before, while Petersen was +clumsily trying to fit Tom's key into the keyhole, the sight of Tom +standing against the wall on one foot, his clothes in disorder, had been +to her imagination a full explanation of what had happened. Her face had +hardened and she had flung up her clenched hands in fierce helplessness. +"Oh, my God! So you've been at Foley again!" she had burst out. "More +trouble! My God, my God! I can't stand it any longer!" She would have +gone on, but the presence of a third person had suddenly checked her. +She had stood unmoving in the doorway, her eyes flashing, her breast +rising and falling. For an instant Tom, remembering a former +declaration, had expected her to close the door in his face, but with a +gesture of infinite, rageful despair she had stepped back from the door +without a word, and Petersen had supported him to the couch. Almost +immediately a doctor had appeared, for whom Tom and Petersen had left a +message on their way home; and by the time the doctor and Petersen had +gone, leaving Tom in bed, her fury had solidified into that obdurate, +resentful silence which was the characteristic second stage of her +wrath. Her injustice had roused Tom's antagonism, and thus far not a +word had passed between them. + +The nearest newsstand was only a dozen steps from the tenement's door, +but minute after minute passed and still Maggie did not return. After a +quarter hour's waiting Tom heard the hall door open and close, and then +Maggie came into the sitting-room. He was startled at the change fifteen +minutes had made in her expression. The look of set hardness was gone; +the face was white and drawn, almost staring. She dropped the papers on +a chair beside the couch. The top one, crumpled, explained the length of +her absence and her altered look. + +Tom's heart began to beat wildly; she knew it then! She paused beside +him, and with his eyes down-turned he waited for her to speak. Seconds +passed. He could see her hands straining, and hear her deep breath +coming and going. Suddenly she turned about abruptly and went into the +kitchen. + +Tom looked wonderingly after her a moment; then his eyes were caught by +a black line half across the top of the crumpled paper: "Contractors +Trap Foley." He seized the paper and his eyes took in the rest of the +headline at a glance. "Arrested, But Makes Spectacular Escape"; a dozen +words about the contractors' plan; and then at the very end, in smallest +display type: "Also Exposed in Union." He quickly glanced through the +headlines of the other papers. In substance they were the same. + +Utterly astounded, he raced through the several accounts of Foley's +exposure. They were practically alike. They told of Mr. Baxter's visit +to the District Attorney, and then recited the events of the past three +weeks just as Mr. Baxter had given them to the official prosecutor: How +Foley had tried to hold the Executive Committee up for fifty thousand +dollars; how the committee had seen in his demand a chance to get him +into the hands of the law, and so rid labor and capital of a common +enemy; how, after much deliberation, they had decided to make the +attempt; how the sham negotiations had proceeded; how yesterday, to make +the evidence perfect, Foley had been given the fifty thousand dollars he +had demanded as the price of settlement--altogether a most complete and +plausible story. "A perfect case," the District Attorney had called it. +Tom's part in the affair was told in a couple of paragraphs under a +subhead. + +One of the papers had managed to get in a hurried editorial on Mr. +Baxter's story. "Perhaps their way of trapping Foley smacks strongly of +gum-shoe detective methods," the editorial concluded; "but their end, +the exposure of a notorious labor brigand, will in the mind of the +public entirely justify their means. They have earned the right to be +called public benefactors." Such in tone was the whole editorial. It +was a prophecy of the editorial praise that was to be heaped upon the +contractors in the afternoon papers and those of the next morning. + +Tom flung the papers from him in sickened, bewildered wrath. He had +expected a personal triumph before the public. He felt there was +something wrong; he felt Mr. Baxter had robbed him of his glory, just as +Foley had robbed him of his strike. But in the first dazedness of his +disappointment he could not understand. He hardly touched the breakfast +Maggie had quietly put upon the chair while he had been reading, but +sank back and, his eyes on the ceiling with its circle of clustered +grapes, began to go over the situation. + +At the end of a few minutes he was interrupted by Ferdinand, whom Maggie +had sent in with a letter that had just been delivered by a messenger. +Tom took it mechanically, then eagerly tore open the envelope. The +letter was from the detective agency, and its greater part was the +report of the observations made the previous evening by the detectives +detailed to watch Mr. Baxter. Tom read it through repeatedly. It brought +Foley's whispered words flashing back upon him: "I give it to youse for +what it's worth; Baxter started this trick." He began slowly to +understand. + +But before he had fully mastered the situation there was a loud knock at +the hall door. Maggie opened it, and Tom heard a hearty voice sound out: +"Good-mornin', Mrs. Keating. How's your husband?" + +"You'll find him in the front room, Mrs. Barry," Maggie answered. "All +of you go right in." + +There was the sound of several feet, and then Mrs. Barry came in and +after her Barry and Pete. "Say, Tom, I'm just tickled to death!" she +cried, with a smile of ruddy delight. She held out a stubby, pillowy +hand and shook Tom's till her black straw hat, that the two preceding +summers had done their best to turn brown, was bobbing over one ear. +"Every rib I've got is laughin'. How're you feelin'?" + +"First rate, except for my ankle. How're you, boys?" He shook hands with +Barry and Pete. + +"Well, you want to lay still as a bed-slat for a week or two. A sprain +ain't nothin' to monkey with, I tell you what. Mrs. Keating, you see't +your husband keeps still." + +"Yes," said Maggie, setting chairs for the three about the couch, and +herself slipping into one at the couch's foot. + +Mrs. Barry sank back, breathing heavily, and wiped her moist face. "I +said to the men this mornin' that I'd give 'em their breakfast, but I +wouldn't wash a dish till I'd been over to see you. Tom, you've come out +on top, all right! An' nobody's gladder'n me. Unless, o' course, your +wife." + +Maggie gave a little nod, and her hands clasped each other in her lap. + +"It's easy to guess how proud you must be o' your man!" Mrs. Barry's red +face beamed with sympathetic exultation. + +Maggie gulped; her strained lips parted: "Of course I'm proud." + +"I wish you could 'a' heard the boys last night, Tom," cried Pete. "Are +they for you? Well, I should say! You'll be made walkin' delegate at the +very next meetin', sure." + +"Well, I'd like to know what else they could do?" Mrs. Barry demanded +indignantly. "With him havin' fought an' sacrificed as he has for 'em!" + +"He can have anything he wants now. Tokens of appreciation? They'll be +givin' you a gold watch an' chain for every pocket." + +"But what'll they think after they've read the papers?" asked Tom. + +"I saw how the bosses' fairy story goes. But the boys ain't kids, an' +they ain't goin' to swallow all that down. They'll think about the same +as me, an' I think them bosses ain't such holy guys as they say they +are. I think there was somethin' else we don't know nothin' about, or +else the bosses'd 'a' gone right through with the game. An' the boys'll +not give credit to a boss when they can give credit to a union man. You +can bet your false teeth on that. Anyhow, Tom, you could fall a big +bunch o' miles an' still be in heaven." + +"Now, the strike, Tom; what d'you think about the strike?" Mrs. Barry +asked. + +Before Tom could answer there was another knock. Maggie slipped away and +ushered in Petersen, who hung back abashed at this gathering. + +"Hello, Petersen," Tom called out. "Come in. How are you?" + +Petersen advanced into the room, took a chair and sat holding his derby +hat on his knees with both hands. "I be purty good,--oh, yah," he +answered, smiling happily. "I be movin' to-day." + +"Where?" Tom asked. "But you haven't met Mrs. Barry, have you?" + +"Glad to know you, Mr. Petersen." Mrs. Barry held out her hand, and +Petersen, without getting up, took it in his great embarrassed fist. + +She turned quickly about on Tom. "What d'you think about the strike?" +she repeated. + +"Yes, what about it?" echoed Barry and Pete. + +"We're going to win it," Tom answered, with quiet confidence. + +"You think so?" + +"I do. We're going to win--certain!" + +"If you do, we women'll all take turns kissin' your shoes." + +"You'll be, all in a jump, the biggest labor leader in New York City!" +cried Pete. "What, to put Buck Foley out o' business, an' to win a +strike after the union had give it up!" + +Within Tom responded to this by a wild exultation, but he maintained an +outward calm. "Don't lay it on so thick, Pete." + +He stole a glance at Maggie. She was very pale. Her eyes, coming up from +her lap, met his. She rose abruptly. + +"I must see to my work," she said, and hurried into the kitchen. + +Tom's eyes came back to his friends. "Have you boys heard anything about +Foley?" + +"He ain't been caught yet," answered Pete. + +"He'll never be," Tom declared. Then after a moment's thought he went +on with conviction: "Boys, if Foley had had a fair start and had been +honest, he'd have been the biggest thing that ever happened in the labor +world." + +Their loyalty prompted the others to take strong exception to this. + +"No, I wouldn't have been in his class," Tom said decidedly, and led the +talk to the probabilities of the next few days. They chatted on for half +an hour longer, then all four departed. Pete, however, turned at the +door and came back. + +"I almost forgot, Tom. There was something else. O' course you didn't +hear about Johnson. You know there's been someone in the union--more'n +one, I bet--that's been keepin' the bosses posted on all we do. Well, +Johnson got himself outside o' more'n a few last night, an' began to get +in some lively jaw-work. The boys got on from what he said that he'd +been doin' the spy business for a long time--that he'd seen Baxter just +before the meetin'. Well, a few things happened right then an' there. I +won't tell you what, but I got an idea Johnson sorter thinks this ain't +just the health resort for his kind o' disease." + +Tom said nothing. Here was confirmation of, and addition to, one +sentence in the detectives' report. + +Pete had been gone hardly more than a minute when he was back for the +third time. "Say, Tom, guess where Petersen's movin'?" he called out +from the dining-room door. + +"I never can." + +"On the floor above! A wagon load o' new furniture just pulled up down +in front. I met Petersen an' his wife comin' in. Petersen was carryin' +a bran' new baby carriage." + +Pete's news had immediate corroboration. As he was going out Tom heard a +thin voice ask, "Is Mr. Keating in?" and heard Maggie answer, "Go right +through the next door;" and there was Mrs. Petersen, her child in her +arms, coming radiantly toward him. + +"Bless you, brother!" she said. "I've heard all about your glorious +victory. I could hardly wait to come over an' tell you how glad I am. +I'd 'a' come with Nels, but I wasn't ready an' he had to hurry here to +be ready to look after the furniture when it come. I'm so glad! But +things had to come out that way. The Lord never lets sin +prevail!--praise His name!" + +"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Petersen?" Tom said, in some embarrassment, +relinquishing the slight hand she had given him. + +"I can't stop a minute, we're so busy. You must come up an' see us. I +pray God'll prosper you in your new work, an' make you a power for +right. Good-by." + +As she passed through the dining-room Tom heard her thin vibrant voice +sound out again: "You ought to be the proudest an' happiest woman in +America, Mrs. Keating." There was no answer, and Tom heard the door +close. + +In a few minutes Maggie came in and stood leaning against the back of +one of the chairs. "Tom," she said; and her voice was forced and +unnatural. + +Tom knew that the scene he had been expecting so long was now at hand. +"Yes," he answered, in a kind of triumphant dread. + +She did not speak at once, but stood looking down on him, her throat +pulsing, her face puckered in its effort to be immobile. "Well, it was +about time something of this sort was happening. You know what I've had +to put up with in the last five months. I suppose you think I ought to +beg your pardon. But you know what I said, I said because I thought it +was to our interest to do that. And you know if we'd done what I said +we'd never have seen the hard times we have." + +"I suppose not," Tom admitted, with a dull sinking of his heart. + +She stood looking down on him for a moment longer, then turned abruptly +about and went into the kitchen. These five sentences were her only +verbal acknowledgment that she had been wrong, and her only verbal +apology. She felt much more than this--grudgingly, she was proud that he +had succeeded, she was proud that others praised him, she was pleased at +the prospect of better times--but more than this she could not bend to +admit. + +While Tom lay on the couch reasoning himself into a fuller and fuller +understanding of Mr. Baxter's part in last night's events, out in the +kitchen Maggie's resentment over having been proved wrong was slowly +disappearing under the genial influence of thoughts of the better days +ahead. Her mind ran with eagerness over the many things that could be +done with the thirty-five dollars a week Tom would get as walking +delegate--new dresses, better than she had ever had before; new things +for the house; a better table. And she thought of the social elevation +Tom's new importance in the union would give her. She forgot her +bitterness. She became satisfied; then exultant; then, unconsciously, +she began humming. + +Presently her new pride had an unexpected gratification. In the midst of +her dreams there was a rapping at the hall door. Opening it she found +before her a man she had seen only once--Tom had pointed him out to her +one Sunday when they had walked on Fifth Avenue--but she recognized him +immediately. + +"Is Mr. Keating at home?" the man asked. + +"Yes." Maggie, awed and embarrassed, led the way into the sitting-room. + +"Mr. Keating," said the man, in a quiet, even voice. + +"Mr. Baxter!" Tom ejaculated. + +"I saw in the papers this morning that you were hurt. Thank you very +much, Mrs. Keating." He closed the door after Maggie had withdrawn, as +though paying her a courtesy by the act, and sat down in the chair she +had pushed beside the couch for him. "Your injury is not serious, I +hope." + +Tom regarded the contractor with open amazement. "No," he managed to +say. "It will keep me in the house for a while, though." + +"I thought so, and that's why I came. I saw from the papers that you +would doubtless be the next leader of the union. As you know, it is +highly important to both sides that we come to an agreement about the +strike as early as possible. It seemed to me desirable that you and I +have a chat first and arrange for a meeting of our respective +committees. And since I knew you could not come to see me, I have come +to see you." + +Mr. Baxter delivered these prepared sentences smoothly, showing his +white teeth in a slight smile. This was the most plausible reason his +brain had been able to lay hold of to explain his coming. And come he +must, for he had a terrifying dread that Tom knew the facts he was +trying to keep from the public. It had taxed his ingenuity frightfully +that morning to make an explanation to his wife that would clear +himself. If Tom did know, and were to speak--there would be public +disgrace, and no explaining to his wife. + +Tom's control came back to him, and he was filled with a sudden exultant +sense of mastery over this keen, powerful man. "It is of course +desirable that we settle the strike as soon as possible," he agreed +calmly, not revealing that he recognized Mr. Baxter's explanation to be +a fraud. + +"It certainly will be a relief to us to deal with a man of integrity. I +think we have both had not very agreeable experiences with one whose +strong point was not his honor." + +"Yes." + +There was that in Mr. Baxter's manner which was very near frank +cordiality. "Has it not occurred to you as somewhat remarkable, Mr. +Keating, that both of us, acting independently, have been working to +expose Mr. Foley?" + +Tom had never had the patience necessary to beat long about the bush. He +was master, and he swept Mr. Baxter's method aside. "The sad feature of +both our efforts," he said calmly, but with fierce joy, "has been that +we have failed, so far, to expose the chief villain." + +The corners of Mr. Baxter's mouth twitched the least trifle, but when he +spoke he showed the proper surprise. "Have we, indeed! Whom do you +mean?" + +Tom looked him straight in the eyes. "I wonder if you'd care to know +what I think of you?" + +"That's an unusual question. But--it might be interesting." + +"I think you are an infernal hypocrite!--and a villain to boot!" + +"What?" Mr. Baxter sprang to his feet, trying to look angry and amazed. + +"Sit down, Mr. Baxter," Tom said quietly. "That don't work with me. I'm +on to you. We got Foley, but you're the man we've failed to expose--so +far." + +Mr. Baxter resumed his chair, and for an instant looked with piercing +steadiness at Tom's square face. + +"What do you know?--think you know?" + +"I'll tell you, be glad to, for I want you to know I'm thoroughly on to +you. You suggested this scheme to Foley, and it wasn't a scheme to catch +Foley, but to cheat the union." And Tom went on to outline the parts of +the story Mr. Baxter had withheld from the newspapers. + +"That sounds very interesting, Mr. Keating," Mr. Baxter said, his lips +trembling back from his teeth. "But even supposing that were true, it +isn't evidence." + +"I didn't say it was--though part of it is. But suppose I gave to the +papers what I've said to you? Suppose I made this point: if Baxter had +really intended to trap Foley, wouldn't he have had him arrested the +minute after the money had been turned over, so that he would have stood +in no danger of losing the money, and so Foley would have been caught +with the goods on? And suppose I presented these facts: Mr. Baxter had +tickets bought for 'The Maid of Mexico,' and was on the point of leaving +for the theater with his wife when a union man, his spy, who had learned +of my plan to expose the scheme, came to his house and told him I was on +to the game and was going to expose it. Mr. Baxter suddenly decides not +to go to the theater, and rushes off to the District Attorney with his +story of having trapped Foley. Suppose I said these things to the +papers--they'd be glad to get 'em, for it's as good a story as the one +this morning--what'd people be saying about you to-morrow? They'd say +this: Up to the time he heard from his spy Baxter had no idea of going +to the District Attorney. He was in the game for all it was worth, and +only went to the District Attorney when he saw it was his only chance to +save himself. They'd size you up for what you are--a briber and a liar!" + +A faint tinge of color showed in Mr. Baxter's white cheeks. "I see +you're a grafter, too!" he said, yielding to an uncontrollable desire to +strike back. "Well--what's _your_ price?" + +Tom sat bolt upright and glared at the contractor. + +"Damn you!" he burst out. "If it wasn't for this ankle, I'd kick you out +of the room, and down to the street, a kick to every step! Now you get +out of here!--and quick!" + +"I'm always glad to leave the presence of a blackmailer, my dear sir." +Mr. Baxter turned with a bow and went out. + +Tom, in a fury, swung his feet off the couch and started to rise, only +to sink back with a groan. + +At the door of the flat Mr. Baxter thought of the morrow, of what the +public would say, of what his wife would say. He came back, closed the +door, and stood looking steadily down on Tom. "Well--what are you going +to do about it?" + +"Give it to the papers, that's what!" + +"Suppose you do, and suppose a few persons believe it. Suppose, even, +people say what you think they will. What then? You will have given +your--ah--your information away, and how much better off are you for +it?" + +"Blackmailer, did you call me!" + +Mr. Baxter did not heed the exclamation, but continued to look steadily +downward, waiting. + +A little while before Tom had been thinking vaguely of the possible use +he could make of his power over Mr. Baxter. With lowered gaze, he now +thought clearly, rapidly. The moral element of the situation did not +appeal to him as strongly at that moment as did the practical. If he +exposed Mr. Baxter it would bring himself great credit and prominence, +but what material benefit would that exposure bring the union? Very +little. Would it be right then for him, the actual head of the union, +to use an advantage for his self-glorification that could be turned to +the profit of the whole union? + +After a minute Tom looked up. "No, I shall not give this to the +newspapers. I'm going to use it otherwise--as a lever to get from you +bosses what belongs to us. I hate to dirty my hands by using such means; +but in fighting men of your sort we've got to take every advantage we +get. If I had a thief by the throat I'd hardly let go so we could fight +fair. I wouldn't be doing the square thing by the union if I refused to +use an advantage of this sort." + +He paused an instant and looked squarely into Mr. Baxter's eyes. "Yes, I +have a price, and here it is. We're going to win this strike. You +understand?" + +"I think I do." + +"Well?" + +"You are very modest in your demands,"--sarcastically. Tom did not heed +the remark. + +Mr. Baxter half closed his eyes and thought a moment. "What guarantee +have I of your silence?" + +"My word." + +"Nothing else?" + +"Nothing else." + +Mr. Baxter was again silent for a thoughtful moment. + +"Well?" Tom demanded. + +Mr. Baxter's face gave a faint suggestion that a struggle was going on +within. Then his little smile came out, and he said: + +"Permit me to be the first to congratulate you, Mr. Keating, on having +won the strike." + + + + +Chapter XXXII + +THE THORN OF THE ROSE + + +Shortly after lunch Mr. Driscoll called Ruth into his office. "Dr. Hall +has just sent me word that he wants to meet the building committee on +important business this afternoon, so if you'll get ready we'll start +right off." + +A few minutes later the two were on a north-bound Broadway car. +Presently Mr. Driscoll blinked his bulging eyes thoughtfully at his +watch. "I want to run in and see Keating a minute sometime this +afternoon," he remarked. "He's just been doing some great work, Miss +Arnold. If we hurry we've got time to crowd it in now." A pudgy +forefinger went up into the air. "Oh, conductor--let us off here!" + +Before Ruth had recovered the power to object they were out of the car +and walking westward through a narrow cross street. Her first frantic +impulse was to make some hurried excuse and turn back. She could not +face him again!--and in his own home!--never! But a sudden fear +restrained this impulse: to follow it might reveal to Mr. Driscoll the +real state of affairs, or at least rouse his suspicions. She had to go; +there was nothing else she could do. And so she walked on beside her +employer, all her soul pulsing and throbbing. + +Soon a change began to work within her--the reassertion of her love. She +would have avoided the meeting if she could, but now fate was forcing +her into it. She abandoned herself to fate's irresistible arrangement. A +wild, excruciating joy began to possess her. She was going to see him +again! + +But in the last minute there came a choking revulsion of feeling. She +could not go up--she could not face him. Her mind, as though it had been +working all the time beneath her consciousness, presented her instantly +with a natural plan of avoiding the meeting. She paused at the stoop of +Tom's tenement. "I'll wait here till you come down, or walk about the +block," she said. + +"All right; I'll be gone only a few minutes," returned the unobservant +Mr. Driscoll. He mounted the stoop, but drew aside at the door to let a +woman with a boy come out, then entered. Ruth's glance rested upon the +woman and child, and she instinctively guessed who they were, and her +conjecture was instantly made certain knowledge by a voice from a window +addressing the woman as Mrs. Keating. She gripped the iron hand-rail +and, swaying, stared at Maggie as she stood chatting on the top step. +Her fixed eyes photographed the cheap beauty of Maggie's face, and her +supreme insight, the gift of the moment, took the likeness of Maggie's +soul. She gazed at Maggie with tense, white face, lips parted, hardly +breathing, all wildness within, till Maggie started to turn from her +neighbor. Then she herself turned about and walked dizzily away. + +In the meantime Mr. Driscoll had gained Tom's flat and was knocking on +the door. When Maggie had gone out--the silent accusation of Tom's +presence irked her so, she was glad to escape it for an hour or two--she +had left the door unlocked that Tom might have no trouble in admitting +possible callers. Mr. Driscoll entered in response to Tom's "Come in," +and crossed heavily into the sitting-room. "Hello there! How are you?" +he called out, taking Tom's hand in a hearty grasp. + +"Why, Mr. Driscoll!" Tom exclaimed, with a smile of pleasure. + +Mr. Driscoll sank with a gasp into a chair beside the couch. "Well, I +suppose you think you're about everybody," he said with a genial glare. +"Of course you think I ought to congratulate you. Well, I might as well, +since that's one thing I came here for. I do congratulate you, and I +mean it." + +He again grasped Tom's hand. "I've been thinking of the time, about five +months ago, when you stood in my office and called me a coward and a few +other nice things, and said you were going to put Foley out of business. +I didn't think you could do it. But you have! You've done a mighty big +thing." + +He checked himself, but his discretion was not strong enough to force +him to complete silence, nor to keep a faint suggestion of mystery out +of his manner. "And you deserve a lot more credit than you're getting. +You've done a lot more than people think you have--than you yourself +think you have. If you knew what I know----!" + +He nodded his head, with one eye closed. "There's some people I'd back +any day to beat the devil. Well, well! And so you're to be walking +delegate, hey? That's what I hear." + +"I understand the boys are talking about electing me." + +"Well, if you come around trying to graft off me, or calling strikes on +my jobs, there'll be trouble--I tell you that." + +"I'll make you an exception. I'll not graft off you, and I'll let you +work scabs and work 'em twenty-four hours a day, if you want to." + +"I know how!" Mr. Driscoll mopped his face again. "I came around here, +Keating, to say about three things to you. I wanted to congratulate you, +and that I've done. And I wanted to tell you the latest in the Avon +affair. I heard just before I left the office that those thugs of +Foley's, hearing that he'd skipped and left 'em in the lurch, had +confessed that you didn't have a thing to do with the Avon +explosion--that Foley'd put them up to it, and so on. It'll be in the +papers this afternoon. Even if your case comes to trial, you'll be +discharged in a minute. The other thing----" + +"Mr. Driscoll----" Tom began gratefully. + +Mr. Driscoll saw what was coming, and rushed on at full speed. "The +other thing is this: I'm speaking serious now, and just as your father +might, and it's for your own good, and nothing else. What I've got to +say is, get out of the union. You're too good for it. A man's got to do +the best he can for himself in this world; it's his duty to make a place +for himself. And what are you doing for yourself in the union? Nothing. +They've turned you down, and turned you down hard, in the last few +months. It's all hip-hip-hurrah for you to-day, but they'll turn you +down again just as soon as they get a chance. Mark what I say! Now +here's the thing for you to do. You can get out of the union now with +glory. Get out, and take the job I offered you five months ago. Or a +better one, if you want it." + +"I can't tell you how much I thank you, Mr. Driscoll," said Tom. "But +that's all been settled before. I can't." + +"Now you see here!"--and Mr. Driscoll leaned forward and with the help +of a gesticulating fist launched into an emphatic presentation of "an +old man's advice" on the subject of looking out for number one. + +While he had been talking Ruth had walked about the block in dazing +pain, and now she had been brought back to the tenement door by the +combined strength of love and duty. During the last two weeks she had +often wished that she might speak a moment with Tom, to efface the +impression she had given him on that tragic evening when they had been +last together, that knowing him could mean to her only great pain. That +she should tell him otherwise, that she should yield him the forgiveness +she had withheld, had assumed to her the seriousness of a great debt she +must discharge. The present was her best chance--perhaps she could see +him for a moment alone. And so, duty justifying love, she entered the +tenement and mounted the stairs. + +Tom's "Come in!" answered her knock. Clutching her self-control in both +her hands, she entered. At sight of her Tom rose upon his elbow, then +sank back, as pale as she, his fingers turned into his palms. + +"Mr. Keating," she said, with the slightest of bows, and lowered herself +into a chair by the door. + +He could merely incline his head. + +"You got tired waiting, did you," said Mr. Driscoll, who had turned his +short-sighted eyes about at her entrance. "I'll be through in just a +minute." He looked back at Tom, and could but notice the latter's white, +set face. "Why, what's the matter?" + +"I twisted my ankle a bit; it's nothing," Tom answered. + +Mr. Driscoll went on with his discourse, to ears that now heard not a +word. Ruth glanced about the room. The high-colored sentimental +pictures, the cheap showy furniture, the ornaments on the +mantelpiece--all that she saw corroborated the revelation she had had of +Maggie's character. Inspiration in neither wife nor home. Thus he had to +live, who needed inspiration--whom inspiration and sympathy would help +develop to a fitness for great ends. Thus he had to live!--dwarfed! + +She filled with frantic rebellion in his behalf. Surely it did not have +to be so, always. Surely the home could be changed, the wife roused to +sympathy--a little--at least a little!... There must be a way! Yes, yes; +surely. There must be a way!... Later, somehow, she would find it.... + +In this moment of upheaving ideas and emotions she had the first vague +stirring of a new purpose--the very earliest conception of the part she +was to play in the future, the part of an unseen and unrecognized +influence. She was brought out of her chaotic thoughts by Mr. Driscoll +rising from his chair and saying: "There's no turning a fool from his +folly, I suppose. Well, we'd better be going, Miss Arnold." + +She rose, too. Her eyes and Tom's met. He wondered, choking, if she +would speak to him. + +"Good-by, Mr. Keating," she said--and that was all. + +"Good-by, Miss Arnold." + +With a great sinking, as though all were going from beneath him, he +watched her go out ... heard the outer door close ... and lay exhausted, +gazing wide-eyed at the door frame in which he had last seen her. + +A minute passed so, and then his eyes, falling, saw a pair of gray silk +gloves on the table just before him. They were hers. He had risen upon +his elbow with the purpose of getting to the table, by help of a chair +back, and securing them, when he heard the hall door open gently and +close. He sank back upon the couch. + +The next minute he saw her in the doorway again, pale and with a +composure that was the balance between paroxysm and supreme repression. +She paused there, one hand against the frame, and then walked up to the +little table. "I came back for my gloves," she said, picking them up. + +"Yes," his lips whispered, his eyes fastened on her white face. + +But she did not go. She stood looking down upon him, one hand resting on +the table, the other on a chair back. "I left my gloves on purpose; +there is something I want to say to you," she said, with her tense calm. +"You remember--when I saw you last--I practically said that knowing you +could in the future mean nothing to me but pain. I do not feel so now. +Knowing you has given me inspiration. There is nothing for me to +forgive--but if it means anything to you ... I forgive you." + +Tom could only hold his eyes on her pale face. + +"And I want to congratulate you," she went on. "I know how another is +getting the praise that belongs to you. I know how much more you deserve +than is being given you." + +"Chance helped me much--at the end." + +"It is the man who is always striving that is ready for the chance when +it comes," she returned. + +Tom, lying back, gazing fixedly up into her dark eyes, could not gather +hold of a word. The gilded clock counted off several seconds. + +"Mr. Driscoll is waiting for me," she said, in a voice that was weaker +and less forcedly steady. She had not changed her position all the time +she had spoken. Her arms now dropped to her side, and she moved back +ever so little. + +"I hope ... you'll be happy ... always," she said. + +"Yes ... and I hope you...." + +"Good-by." + +"Good-by." + +Their eyes held steadfastly to each other for a moment; she seemed to +waver, and she caught the back of a chair; then she turned and went +out.... + +For long he watched the door out of which she had gone; then, heedless +of the pain, he rolled over and stared at one great poppy in the back of +the couch. + +THE END + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + + +Obvious typographical and printer errors have been corrected without +comment. + +In addition to obvious errors, the following changes have been made: + + Page 26: "virture" changed to "virtue" in the phrase, "... had + the virtue of being terse...." + + Page 53: The word "you" was added to the phrase, "How do you + propose...." + + Page 178: "disppeared" changed to "disappeared" in the phrase, + "... they had disappeared...." + + Page 209: "filliped" changed to "flipped" in the phrase, "... + contemptuously flipped his half-smoked cigar...." + + Page 320: "tremenduous" changed to "tremendous" in the phrase, + "... a tremendous uproar...." + +Other than the above, no effort has been made to standardize internal +inconsistencies in spelling, capitalization, punctuation, grammar, etc. +The author's usage is preserved as found in the original publication. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Walking Delegate, by Leroy Scott + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41154 *** |