Beadle's Dime Library No. 412 — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—~ ew - : ~ : , a ee ; = diene Sie. es: | : i. . . : f ty + yp : * . ‘ , J ° te. ; - > to lead them, a fellow called Locke. He’s what they call Master Workman of this district. They do whatever he tells them.” >" Skinner pricked up his ears to listen, for he ‘- had an idea in his head. be ‘*They say that he tries to keep them from | doing violence, all he can,” pursued the first f speaker, ‘‘but he can’t keep them back when once they’re started. I hope they won't have ee any more trouble like we had in the big riots.” ‘** Heaven forbid!” said his neighbor, devoutly a and then they passed on, while Skinner pursue his way through more side streets to the part of the town where the factories were, and took his way specially tothe mill owned by Kelly & Barr, — he expected to find in ashes at the fro east. g To his surprise it stood there intact, and the gates were wide open, the street in front of it nearly deserted, though the quantity of broken __giass that lay beneath the walis showed what had been done in the first heat of the mob’s pas- sion, a Assuming as much of an air of indifference - ashe could, he went forward to the gate and started to enter the works, when he was con- fronted by half a dozen resolute-looking fellows, rags pag large clubs, saying: : me ou can’t come in here!” at Ts CHAPTER XXVII. Ee A NEW PLAN, . TuEry were evidently workmen, but they acted _. as if they had been put on guard, and he very . naturally asked: zi *** Who are you and what are you doing here? - Don’t you know me?” _ * No, I don’t, and don’t want to,” returned one of the men. ‘‘ We’re put here to take care of the mill tall the owner comes back, and we don’t want this strike to be disgraced. We ain’t rob- bers. We're only honest workingmen, and Master Workman Locke gives his orders from the Knights.” “Ts he here?” asked Skinner. ** No, he ain’t, and he don’t need to be. You git out of this.” vy And with that the disgusted mill-owner had . to move off, wondering greatly at the order and - decency of these men, whom he and his friends were accustomed to treat as nothing but pau- __-pers, to be ruled by the fore of cruelty. _ He passed along the streets where the accustomed to congregate, and foun lounging about in the gloomy, purposeless way LS of rea men accustomed to labor and obliged to be ‘ idle, | The pawn-shops were crowded with them, and lines stretched out into the streets, with articles of clothing and household utensils in hand, on which they hoped to obtain money to live awhile. / | Putting on the coarse language of a workman, _ Skinner asked one of them: ‘i ‘‘ Well, mate, how long d’ye think before the were them ve in? _ The other shrugged his shoulders. “Punno. Grynde’s done it; but he ain’t but adrop in a bucket. He only takes three hun- _ dred hands, and there’s nigh six thousand out of ‘work now,” _ het why don’t the rest think of ¢éming back on the old terms?” asked Skifiner, incau- Bee soos ay dead the gloomy countenance of the man _ gave him courage. _~ The man instantly wheeled round to stare at him savagely. “Who are you?” he asked, ‘A scab, come to take the bos#es’ part? D’ye think we've had - such a time marting, snd working on the new __ scale that we want to go back to itagain? Not _ by adarned sight! It’s a tough thing to starve - without work, but it’s a tougher one to work all , day and find pone children starving at night. -You get out of this, or some of us will be com- eS im bey on ye.” Bis d every one began to scowl at Skinner in ~ gucha way that he slunk off, not caring tomake further eng apy raat and went back to his own _ house, where he found Tom Trainor just come in from a drive in the country. Tom had not troubled himself much about the - strike after his first experience with the men. ay me gete the manufacturing portions of the town de berth, and tried to enjoy life as he knew best, which consisted in spending money on nis which took his py “Well, father,” be said, as Skinner came in, _ T was jest down to Van Slack’s, and he says i 4 Larry Locke’s sent his answer in, and it’s «* , * _ no good. “Sentit in already?” said Skinner, incredu- _lously. ‘‘ Why, he’s got twenty days to do it in. _ He don’t want to shorten the time.” But he’s done it, so Van Slack says,” was Tom's toa. ‘*He hailed me as I passed the _ office, and told me to tell you.” “py go down to the office at once, Tom,” said his parent, eagerly. ‘‘ Maybe it wants attend- as By Warp once.” Tis within ten minutes he wasat Van Slack’s Office, deeply absorbed in reading Larry’s an- ' Mg to bis complaint, which ed him with TN he | . > > es ” - ew" ae ree a eee eee ee ee Larry not only was not lighting for time, but it appeared that he had a good defense, for he pleaded usury. He asserted that the loan made to him by Pe- ter Briggs bad been made at a rate of interest not allowed by law, and that under the statutes of usury thedebt was forfeited entirely. There- fore he claimed a judgment with costs. Skinner read it and ground his teeth. He had grown to entertain a venomous hatred of Larry, and here it seemed as if the man was likely to slip through his fingers. ‘Is that a good defense?” asked he. Van Slack looked as wise as an owl. ‘* Tf he can prove it it is,” he answered, ‘** But how can he prove it?” ‘* By Peter Briggs’s receipts, I suppose.” ‘* But suppose Peter denies them? The tawyer rubbed his hands, ‘Tf we could get him to do that, to make an affidavit, for instance—” ‘Yes. What then?” ‘Why, then we could spike old Scriven’s guns at once.” ‘*1’ll make him do it,” said Skinner, in a reso- lute tone. ‘‘ I don’t care for the money, if I can only get this fellow out of the town. I'll spend ten times the amount, if necessary, to do that.” Van Slack looked at him in a queer way. ‘** Can I speak plainly, Mr. Skinner?” ** Certainly you can.” ‘You want to get this fellow out of town to stop the strike?” ** Exactly.” “Well, did it never occur to you that—” He stopped and hesitated. ‘* Well, what, what?” ‘That it might be cheaper to buy him off than to fight him?” ‘* Never. Confound him! I hate to buy him off. He’d use the money to help the strike.” * But oe it was done through me?” ‘*T don’t know what you mean.’ The lawyer rose and closed the door, after a peep into the outer office. Then he came back and said mysteriously: “If I were you, I'd buy him off.” ‘* But why, why?” asked Skinner in a tone of irritation. ‘* Because he’s a dangerous man, and old Seriven’s no fool! Yousee, bere you are in the midst of a great strike, with several irons on the fire. You say this man’s the head of thestrikers, and if they beat—” “They won't beat.” “Perhaps not; but I’ve heard that one of rr manufacturers has given in to them to- ay— ‘Yes, Grynde. Confound his meanness.” ‘* Exactly, and when he opens up, it will be a great temptation to the others, They’ll see him making money, and it’s ten to one some other man weakens—” ** Let em weaken. I won't.” “Probably not. But whatare you going to do if they give in?” ‘* Shut up the mill and sell out,” Van Slack pursed up his lips, “fT guess oe forgotten part of the clause in your father’s will under which you inherit the works,” "What do you mean? with that will.” ‘‘No. Scriven did that, and I must say it was uite an artful clause he drew. I’m inclined to think the old fellow had a suspicion of you.” Skinner began to get nervous, ‘‘ But what do you know about it? You never saw it.” “The original? No. But you forget it’s re- corded, and that the records are open to all the world. Here’s a copy of the clause I mean, It’s significant,” He read out to his client from a sheet of paper on which was written as follows: “And at any time when the said business of maxis Bessemer steel shall become unprofitable, it shall be the duty of the said Marcellus Skinner, executor as aforesaid, to sell the buildings, lands, plant, stock in trade and appurtenances thereof, at public auction to the hivhest bidder, after three months’ notice in the public prints and by hand- bills and posters—"’ ‘‘ Exactly,” interrupted Skinner. ‘*Thatgives me liberty to do what I please.” ‘* Hold on,” said the lawyer. ‘‘ That’s not all. Hear the rest: “** For such sum orsumsas may be deemed satis- factory by him and the next heir, and to divide the said sum or sums equally in two parts, one of which shall be invested in United States bonds for the bene- fit of the next heir. the other for said executor; and no such sale shall be valid without the conjunction in said sale of said next beir.’ ” You had nothing to do | He folded up the paper and continued: ‘‘ What do you think of that? You know what it means?” | Skinner set his teeth close. ‘Yes, I know what it means. it amount to?” ‘Tt means that you can’t sel] the mill with- out the consent of the next heir, your nephew, Paul Van Beaver, who must join you in the deeds.” ‘** But suppose I sell anyhow, without letting » But what does Pa ‘ F P ° : PI ¢ “y : ‘ + a oF -s as ~ : ee en s ‘ ce at ess 2 y —* — - ; Z _— és 4 —" 4 % - a 4 2 a : Ahh ORL 1 et : , cf -; bl . ee vr sy ry . - - Larry Locke, the Man of Iron. aie him know anything about it? Who is to hinder me? I’m sole executor, and there’s no penalty in the will.” Van Slack smiled. ‘‘My dear Mr. Skinner. you remember who» drew that will?” ‘Yes, Scriven.” ** And you know who is in his office now, as his partner?” Skinuer scowled. ‘“Ay, ay, I know. Paul Van Beaver, curse him!” ‘*Exactly. Well, do you know that it seems to me if you don’t terminate this strike pretty soon, you’re going to be in a bad box for money ?”’ Skinner moved uneasily on his chair. He haa begun to think the same himself, but his obsti- nacy refused to admit it. ‘Well, what of that?’ he said sulkily. “E can raise money on it, by mortgage, and get the whole place swamped, so it will be no use to him even if I die before him.” ‘* Yes, that’s all very well,” said Van Slack; “but as your lawyer, ’m bound to give you good advice. You can do all you’ve said and ruin a fine property, but there’s another way you can do better.” ‘* And what’s that?’ asked Skinner sourly. ** Well, tell me how much has this strike cost you this two weeks?” retorted Van Slack in the same tone. Skinner cursed under his breath. ‘* Darned near twenty thousand dollars.” ‘*Exactly. Then it’s worth ten to you to end the strike, isn’t it?” ‘* Perhaps it might,” Skinner assented. “Very well, sir. Ill get rid of this Larry Locke for twenty-five. hundred down; and en- gage to make him leave the city,” said Van Slack quietly. ‘‘He’s the soul of the strike, isn’t he?” ‘* T believe he is,” said Skinner soberly. ‘*Very well. Leave him to me. Before the week’s up [ll have him out of here, if you will furnish the money. Molasses is the stuff to catch flies. He'll fight as long as you fight, but I don’t know human nature if he don’t come down to a bribe. Shall I try it?’ Skinner drew a deep breath. ‘“* Try it,” he said, ‘* but keep my name out.” | CHAPTER XXVIII. PAUL'S NEWS. LARRY LOCKE had gone to his own home the second week of the strike, and was sitting thoughtfully at the door of his ee in the evening, when Molly came up beside him, say- ing coaxingly: ‘What makes ye so stil), Larry boy?” “I’m thinking,” he replied, absently. “Thinking of what? I’m sure I’m too ba to have you back to think of oes but how you’re home,” she answered, fondly. ‘“ Ay, ay, Molly, that’s a woman’s way to look at it,” said Larry, slowly; ** but you don’t know what it is to have all the responsibility on one pair of shoulders,” ‘* What respousibility ?” _* The strike, dear. These men are at me all the pe to do something to make the bosses yield ta 1M, “ And why don't Xe Larry boy? she asked, with sublime faith that he could do any act to which he made up his mind, Larry shook his head impatiently. ‘‘ How can Iinfluence the bosses? We've got to hold out_till they give in; that’s all there is about it. But if the other side think a few of us are giving way, they'll stick it out and beat us, sure. “But I thought the Union was giving the mem money to live on,” said Molly. ‘So it is, and if they were content to live om it and spend as little as possible, they would have a better chance; but somehow—” ‘ ‘*Somehow what, Larry?” she asked, seeing that he had sto ‘** Somehow ese men here don’t seem to know anything about saving money. They go _ to spending it on beer, and pawning their clothes to live with.” And Larry uttered a heavy sigh and remained silent for several minutes, while Molly’s face lengthened considerably; for anything that grieved Larry made ber wretched. Presently she said in a hesitating way: “Then ain’t it certain that—the—strike—is— going to succeed?” ; Larry roused himself instantly. ‘Succeed? Ay, ay, it ought to succeed. If they were all men it would soon succeed. They have all the chances in their favor. But then there’s a big lot of them, and it’s hard to find such a number where there’s not more than one coward in the lot. And one or two going to work on the low scale would set a number more. going. It’s the same on both sides. If they only knew it, Grynde has nigh broken the manu- facturers’ backs by starting his works on the old scale. If they would only hold on, we’ve got the wre 7 uyse we Reg ‘ryan dear?” nd won’t they hold on, Larry dear ‘IT don’t know. They threw’a good deal away yesterday. ‘* How, Larry?” ’ ma 00 (a