The uncouth countenances of the men and women can be studied in intermittent flashes as they pa.s.s under the strong glare of the lights.

The utter absence of men and women of gentility makes the procession seem like the invasion of the Huns into the Empire. Among the thousands there are descendants of those very men who made the legions of Rome flee in terror. The torch of progress is again in the hands of the uncultured, and as history proves the race is to undergo another evolution.

That it is to be effected by internecine revolution none doubts. The march of carnage is on. Whither will it tend?

A leader of genius is wanted. The plastic emotions of the mult.i.tude will yield to his command.

Already the peaceable character of the visitation of the humble to the habitation of the haughty, has changed to one of violence.

O'Neil has been able to create the storm, but he lacks the capacity to direct it. The man of might has stepped forward and has been hailed as chief.

Just as the body of Purdy is to be brought down the terrace the sound of distant cheering is heard. It comes from the direction of the bridge.

The men who have hold of the millionaire's body, drop it.

Do the shouts come from the militia?

With ever-increasing magnitude the cheering continues. Whatever the object may be, it is approaching the palace.

A reflex movement in the crowds indicates that danger is upon them.

"It's the Pinkertons!" is the terror-stricken cry that arises.

CHAPTER XXIX.

PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES.

Now the shouting swells into a general outburst of enthusiasm. "Trueman!

Trueman!" are the words that reach the ears of the men at the foot of the terrace.

It is not the militia then, that is swooping down upon the people to crush them for demanding the body of their dead; it is not the Pinkertons. It is the champion of the people come to their aid!

Breathless from the three miles he has traversed at a run, Trueman sinks exhausted on the stone steps in front of Purdy's house.

The excited leaders cl.u.s.ter about him and tell him of the events that have transpired during the afternoon and early evening. "It was four o'clock when we first heard that Metz had shot and killed Purdy. The news spread to all the mills and furnaces," explains Chester, one of the yard hands of the local depot.

"Some one started the story that the police had been instructed to bury Metz secretly for fear there would be trouble if he was given a public funeral. You know there was a note found on him which said he had killed Purdy for the good of the workingmen."

"Yes," breaks in O'Neil, "the folks all over town said they were bound to see Metz given decent burial. A committee came to me and asked if I would head a procession to come here and demand the body. We came and were refused it. Then we broke into the house and got Metz's body.

"Some one started the cry, 'Find Purdy's body and bury it in Potter's field!' This set the crowd crazy. I could not prevent their seizing it."

Harvey Trueman listens to the stories of the men. He realizes that no half-measure can be proposed. It will either be necessary for him to acquiesce to their plan to throw the multi-millionaire's body into the Potter's field or else oppose them to the last point.

With the knowledge of the various events that have occurred he can estimate the effect that such an act of violence will have upon the country. Should the people of the other mining districts hear that the miners of Wilkes-Barre have risen in revolt against their masters it may precipitate a general uprising.

The deaths of the leading financiers and manufacturers throughout the country have made a panic inevitable. If to this is added rioting, the country will be plunged into a state of veritable anarchy. Why should not Wilkes-Barre be the centre of this national movement for a peaceable solution of the question of the rights of labor? One clear note of confidence sounded amid the general babel may serve as the signal for rational action.

Reasoning thus, he determines to make a grand effort to convert the crowd to moderation.

As he pa.s.sed through the larger cities on his way to the town he heard that the people of Wilkes-Barre were up in arms. The militia have been ordered out and will arrive at any moment. The Coal and Iron Police are crossing the mountain and will show no mercy to the miners. If they find the people engaged in mischief, the story of past ma.s.sacres will be repeated.

"Come with me," says Trueman to his lieutenants. They move quickly up the steps to the piazza of the magnate's palace.

Here Trueman turns to the crowd.

The cheering and shouting has been kept up during the two or three minutes that he has been resting. The people have again ma.s.sed themselves about the grounds surrounding the house.

"Speech! speech!" they cry.

Trueman raises his hands before his face and lowers them in a sign for silence. The buzz of the thousands is instantly hushed. In a clear full voice that increases in volume as he proceeds, he begins his never-to-be-forgotten oration.

"Women and men of Wilkes-Barre:

"That you are; testified in claiming the body of the man who sacrificed his life that you might live as freemen in this land of equal rights none can deny; that you should be moved to seek revenge upon the body of the man who has of all men been the most intolerant, tyrannical and merciless to you and the hundreds whom death has claimed, during the past twenty years, is nothing more than human.

"I believe, as have the philosophers and statesmen of all ages, that the people can do no wrong; for the voice of the people is, in fact, the voice of G.o.d."

As these words fall upon the ears of the mult.i.tude a great shout is given. Men wave their hats; women flutter their vari-colored shawls, which serve them as headgear; the sense of righteousness is awakened in them.

"With an abiding faith in the justice of the Almighty, you have bided your time; tolerance has ever been your actuating principle; reason has dictated every appeal that you have made to your masters.

"To-day you feel that the hour for your deliverance has come; that the fetters have fallen from your wrists. You stand here as emanc.i.p.ated men of a great nation. That your hearts should be filled with rejoicing, shows that you are alive to the importance of the occasion.

"Metz, who this day sacrificed his life for you, is worthy of your admiration. He is one of the world's heroes, one of its martyrs. It is for you to say if he shall have a monument worthy of his memorable act.

"The peoples of all ages have had their heroes and their martyrs. The progress of the world is marked by the monuments that have commemorated the deeds of these men.

"It remains for you to erect a monument for the martyr of the Twentieth Century.

"Shall it be of bra.s.s or of enduring granite?

"Either of these would be a prey to the long lapse of time.

"You may choose as a monument, a mound that shall endure as long as the world rolls through s.p.a.ce; you may convert those piles of brick and iron on the further side of the river into a ma.s.s of ruins; you may set the indignant torch to this fine line of palaces.

"Whatever you do you may be sure that your example will be the signal for your fellow workmen throughout the land."

"Burn down the breakers!" cries a thousand voices.

"Those breakers as they stand to-day are fit only to be destroyed,"

continues Trueman.

"They have consumed a pound of human flesh for every ton of coal that fed them. They have afforded money to a few Plutocrats, with which to satisfy the rapacious desires of greed; they have been the source of revenue that made these palaces possible. Those breakers have given you in return for your long days of toil, only enough to keep life in your bodies; they have bound you to this spot with fetters stronger than those of steel. If you should flee from this bondage you would find starvation awaiting you on the roads."

These sentences have an electrical effect upon the audience. The pa.s.sive temperaments of the men and women are being quickened.