The Cecil Whig., 1885-12-12

abashed at ALTON Bailey. Tom stated
the wrongs Of the mill men in glowing
language he demanded restoration OF
the old wages, an hour day less labor
and his own reinstatement.
Il suppose this is ALL" said 81,
quietly. "Do you agree to this7" he
went on, turning to the two decent
workmen who had not spoken.
Owe does" they said stolidIy, twist
ing their hats. Tom had kept his on.
I'm sorry" said ST. "It's no good
mo reason in it. You are fooled by
an arrant knave-a worthless, drunken
fellow. l don't agree to any of your
propositions, and sooner than take that
scoundrel back I'd see my mill in ashes.
I've been poorer than you men. Tye
worked harder. l work fourteen hours
day now. If you're going to Or
ganize, associate and row generally,
why don't you have an honest man for
a leader? Pah you're pack of fools.
Get out T"
They went away then, but Tom
tuned back. "Yer'll repent this, 81
McGuffin," he said, hoarsely; eyer
dealin' with enemy wots got more
strength an power than all yer goold
kin buy
Give dealt with your sort BEFORE"
said ST, vindictive look in his gray
eyes "Bill Blossom robbed me once !:
you are his kind. I'll hunt him down,
and III crush every man like him
like you-that ever comes in my path"
The only man that went to work in
the mill the next morning was the en-
gineer. When he blew the 6 O'Clock
whistle furious crowd gathered and
drove him from his post. Life meant
more to him than duty, SO he went
away 81 McGuffin riding down to the
mill on his big black horse found it
quiet and deserted. He grew white
and his lips trembled. Every day meant
money to him for he had large con-
tracts to fill, and the men knew it. In
the face of his losses he was braye he
wrote with steady hand;
"Notice: No strikers will ever be
taken back here. SILAs McGUFF1N.'
This he nailed to the door of the
mill then he telegraphed to a neigh
boring city for men, and sent special
train. Before that train got back to
Webster the track was torn up for rods
by terrible dynamite explosion, and
the millers refused to 60 further, many
of them walking back to their homes.
In the months that followed Silas' mill
dam was destroyed and broken as soon
as rebuilt. His fine black horse was
found dead in his stall, brutaIly killed
his servants left his house from fear and
his fine shrubbery and flowers were
ruined one day when he was away.
He got United States marshalS to watch
his mill and policemen to guard his
home but, though he felt like hunted
man, he showed no fear. He walked
down to his mill every day, and even
the mill men, grown revengeful and
lawless from evil teaching, want and
famine, could not but respect his manly
courage.
The hall where the mill men held
their meetings was next to the hut Of
civilian the Shoemaker" He and
Benny sitting in the twilight often
heard the speeches OF the men and the
fierce evil promptings of Tom Bailey.
There was no tick.tap now, and the
cobbler was so often lost in thought
that Benny could not make him hear
his childish questions. At last one night
the cobbler went up to Benny and laid
his hand on the little arm.
"Benny, can you hear me if l whis-
per? Put your ear down. Can you
swear?"
"Mother never lowed me-" said,
Benny, mystifed.
81 don't mean that-promise?'
"Yeah.'
"Not tell your father ?-heroes never
did"
"No, siree.'
"Then, Benny, lead me softly through
my house to the back of the hall cot
tage there is an old cellar there, and
we can hear every word they say"
So they crept to the old cellar, damp
and dark, and full of pools of stagnant
water, and after that night the carefully
laid plans of the strikers failed. Nc
Guffin always knew. Scraps Of paper
with queer writing were put where he
could not miss them, and all informed
him where danger threatened. The
strikers wondered why every plan failed,
and why the places they meant to at
tack were so carefully guarded. Silas
did not know his unseen friend and
perhaps he never even noticed dirty
little Benny playing with other ragged
youngsters by the mill.
Three months passed, and the strik-
ers became SO quiet that the marshals
were dispersed with, all extra caution
abandoned, and ST McGuffin sat every
day alone in his mill. He grew older
very fast, more wrinkled and bent. He
posted notice that he would take back
the old men at the old wages, all but
Tom Bailey, but this was refused with
scorn after an enthusiastic meeting at
the cottage, where Tom wanted to know
in thrilling accents eff they was goin'
ter sell themselves fur slaves ter ST Nc
r