"Here's the scabs! Here they come!"

Word was sent immediately to the union's headquarters.

A body of twenty-odd men, carrying shovels and pickaxes and dinner-pails, moved toward the gates. At their head was Bennington himself. He placed the great key in the lock and swung the gates inward. The men pa.s.sed in quickly. Bennington was last. He turned for a moment and gazed calmly at the threatening faces of the strikers. An impulse came to him.

"Men," he said, "up to one o'clock this noon these gates will be open to you. Each of you can take up your work where you left it, at the same wages, at the same hours. This is the last chance. Later you will learn that you have been betrayed."

"How about Chittenden?"

"Chittenden will return at the same time you do."

"The h.e.l.l he will! Let him show his British face here, and we'll change it so his mother won't know it."

Bennington went inside and shut the gates. There was nothing more to be done. He did not slam the gates insolently, as some men would have done; he simply shut them.

This event was also reported at headquarters. That afternoon all the strikers were out in force. They congregated in groups and talked angrily. Two policemen patrolled up and down. Bennington had had some difficulty in securing even these. The men waited for the first sign of smoke from the chimneys, but none came. No one was lighting the furnaces; there was nothing but silence inside the shops. There was no possible excuse as yet for deeds of violence, though many of the more turbulent element urged riot at once. What was the use of waiting? In the afternoon there appeared some fifty more strange men. These carried tool-bags. They were challenged. They ignored the challenge and pushed on resolutely. For the first time blows were struck. The leader whirled around.

"Look here, men, you're making a big mistake. Your fists won't help you. We are going inside, and if we can't go in peaceably, why, we'll break some heads to get in. We have all been sworn in legally as deputy police, and if we start in to break heads we promise to do it thoroughly."

"What are you going to do in there?" demanded Morrissy.

"None of your business, for one thing," answered the burly spokesman of the interlopers. "I'll add this much, if it will ease your minds: n.o.body's going to step into your jobs; when you went out you left your jobs behind."

"So you fellows are what they call strike-breakers, are you?" asked Morrissy wrathfully.

"Oh, we aren't going to break your strike, my friend. You can call this a strike as long as you please, so far as we're concerned. We've got work to do here, though, and we are going to do it."

"Are you union men?"

"Not so you'd notice it," was the cool reply.

"All right. You fellows won't be here long."

"Stop us if you can. Now, stand aside!" commanded the stranger menacingly.

"Let 'em by, men," cried Morrissy. "Don't touch 'em yet. You just leave it to me. I know a way and a good one, too. You just leave it to me."

The angry strikers divided ranks and the strangers entered the shops.

Morrissy directed his steps to McQuade's office, and together they paid a visit to the mayor.

"Look here, Donnelly, did you permit Bennington to swear in deputy police?" asked McQuade.

"Deputy police? Bennington has no deputy police from this place,"

answered Donnelly hotly.

"Well, all we know is that he has them," snapped Morrissy.

"Then he has gone directly to the governor."

"The governor?"

McQuade and Morrissy looked at each other blankly.

"He has that prerogative," said Donnelly.

"But he wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, yes, he would. It's his last term; he is without further political ambition; he can act as he pleases, in the face of public condemnation. There's one thing left, though."

"What?"

"Injunction," said Donnelly tersely.

"With Republican judges on the benches?" replied McQuade ironically.

"And you can't enjoin private property," added Morrissy.

"I'll send for Bennington," Donnelly volunteered. "Perhaps I can talk him into reason."

"It's up to you to block this move somehow," said McQuade. "It means the labor vote. And we've got to have that."

"I'll do the best I can. I can stop his permit to tear down the building, if he really intends to do that."

"It will be a good day's work for you."

"I'll act this very afternoon."

Once outside the mayor's office, McQuade turned to Morrissy.

"Where's that receipt you promised on oath?"

"Haven't you got it?" asked Morrissy, feigning surprise.

"No, and I doubt you sent it. But I want it at once, and no more monkeying."

"Well, I sent it. I mailed it to your office. You've overlooked it."

"Come over to my office now and make it out," McQuade insisted.

"You've got plenty of grips on me without that," protested Morrissy reproachfully.

"But I want this one, and I'm going to have it."

"I'll go to your office. Will Donnelly be game?"

"He will if he knows which side his bread is b.u.t.tered on,"

contemptuously.