II
Events moved quickly to their culmination, justifying the worst of
Lizzie's fears. The shops were seething with discontent, and
agitators seemed fairly to spring out of the ground; some of them
paid by Jerry Coleman, no doubt, others taking their pay in the form
of gratification of those grudges with which the profit-system had
filled their hearts. Noon-meetings would start up, quite
spontaneously, without any prearrangement; and presently Jimmie
learned that men were going about taking the names of all who would
agree to strike.
The matter was brought to a head by the Empire managers, who, of
course, were kept informed by their spies. They discharged more than
a score of the trouble-makers; and when this news spread at
noon-time, the whole place burst into a flame of wrath. "Strike!
strike!" was the cry. Jimmie was one of many who started a
procession through the yards, shouting, singing, hurling menaces at
the bosses, challenging all who proposed to return to work. Less
than one-tenth of the working force made any attempt to do so, and
for that afternoon the plant of the Empire Machine Shops, which was
supposed to be turning out shell-casings for the Russian government,
was turning out labour-union, Socialist, and I. W. W. oratory.
Jimmie Higgins was beside himself with excitement. He danced about
and waved his cap, he shouted himself hoarse, he almost yielded to
the impulse to jump upon a pile of lumber and make a speech himself.
Presently came Comrades Gerrity and Mary Allen, who had got wind of
the trouble, and had loaded a whole edition of the Worker into a
Ford; so Jimmie turned newsboy, selling these papers, hundreds of
them, until his pockets were bursting with the weight of pennies and
nickels. And then he was pressed into service running errands for
those who were arranging to organize the workers; he carried bundles
of membership-cards and application-blanks, following a man with a
bull voice and a megaphone, who shouted in several languages the
location of union headquarters, and the halls where various foreign
language meetings would be held that evening. Evidently someone had
foreseen the breaking of this trouble, and had been at pains to plan
ahead.
Late in the afternoon Jimmie was witness of an exciting incident. In
one of the shops a number of the men had persisted in returning to
work, and an immense throng of strikers had gathered to wait for
them. They were afraid to come out, but stayed in the building after
the quitting-whistle, while those outside jeered and hooted and the
bosses telephoned frantically for aid. The greater part of the
Leesville police-force was on hand, and in addition, the company had
its own guards and private detectives. But they were needed all over
the place. You saw them at the various entrances, menacing, but not
quite so sure of themselves as usual; their hands had a tendency to
slip back to the bulge on their right hips.
Jimmie and another fellow had got themselves an empty box and were
standing on it, leaning against the wall of the building and
shouting "Ya! Ya!" at every "scab" head that showed itself. They saw
an automobile come in at the gate, its horn honking savagely,
causing the crowd to leap to one side or the other. The automobile
was packed with men, sitting on one another's knees, or hanging to
the running-boards outside. There came a second car, loaded in the
same fashion. They were guards, sent all the way from Hubbardtown;
for of course the Hubbard Engine Company would help out its rivals
in an emergency such as this. That was the solidarity of capitalism,
concerning which the Socialists never wearied of preaching.
The men leaped from the cars, and spread themselves fanwise in front
of the door. They had nightsticks in their hands, and grim
resolution in their faces; they cried, "Stand back! Stand back!" The
crowd hooted, but gave slightly, and a few minutes later the doors
of the building opened, and the first of the timid workers emerged.
There was a howl, and then from somewhere in the throng a stone was
thrown. "Arrest that man!" shouted a voice, and Jimmie's attention
was attracted to the owner of this voice--a young man who had
arrived in the first automobile, and was now standing up in the
seat, from which position he could dominate the throng. "Arrest that
man!" he shouted again, pointing his finger; and three of the guards
leaped into the crowd at the spot indicated. The man who had thrown
the missile started to run, but he could not go fast in the crowd,
and in a moment, as it seemed, the guards had him by the collar. He
tried to jerk away, and they struck him over the head, and laid
about them to keep the rest of the throng at bay. "Take him inside!"
the young man in the car kept shouting. And one of the guards
twisted his hand in the collar of the wretched stone-thrower, until
he grew purple in the face, and so half-dragged and half-ran him
into the building.
