IV
Outside, a crowd gathered to jeer while the prisoners were loaded
into the patrol-wagon; but the police drove them away, keeping
everybody moving, and breaking up several attempts at
street-oratory. Jimmie found himself with half a dozen other
comrades, wandering aimlessly down Main Street, talking over and
over what had happened, each explaining why and how he had not
shared the crown of martyrdom. Some had shouted as loud as the rest,
but had been missed by the police; some had thought it wiser to run
away and live to shout another day; some wanted to start that very
night to print a leaflet and call another mass-meeting. They
adjourned to Tom's "Buffeteria" to talk things over; they took
possession of a couple of tables, and got their due quotas of coffee
and sandwiches, or pie and milk, and had just got fairly started on
the question of raising bail without the help of Comrade Dr.
Service--when suddenly something happened which drove all thoughts
of the meeting out of their minds.
It was like a gigantic blow, striking the whole world at once; a
cosmic convulsion, quite indescribable. The air became suddenly a
living thing, which leaped against your face; the windows of the
little eating-place flew inward in a shower of glass, and the walls
and tables shook as if with palsy. The sound of it all was a vast,
all-pervasive sound, at once far off and near, tailing away in the
clatter and crash of innumerable panes of glass falling from
innumerable windows. Then came silence, a sinister, frightful
silence, it seemed; men stared at one another, crying, "My God!
What's that?" The answer seemed to dawn upon everyone at once: "The
powder-plant!"
Yes, that must be it, beyond doubt. For months they had been talking
about it and thinking about it, speculating as to the probabilities
and the consequences. And now it had happened. Suddenly one of the
company gave a cry, and they turned and stared at his white face,
and realized the terror that clutched his heart. Comrade Higgins,
whose home was so near the place of peril!
"Gee, fellers, I gotta go!" he gasped; and several of the comrades
jumped up and ran with him into the street. If there was a single
pane of glass left intact in Leesville, you would not have thought
it as you trod those pavements.
If Jimmie had been trained in efficiency, and accustomed to spending
money more freely, he might perhaps have found out something by the
telephone or by inquiry at the newspaper offices; but the one thing
he thought of was to take the trolley and get to his home. The
comrades ran with him, speculating with eager excitement, trying to
reassure him--it could be nothing worse than some glass and some
dishes smashed. Some had thought of going all the way with him, but
they remembered they would be too late for the last trolley back,
and they had their jobs in the morning. So they put him on the car
and bade him good-bye.
