Arizona republican., 1911-08-25


 ground. OMen were grouped ahead of the corner where he would take the car for the mill. He did not want to bear a hateful word, but most of all be hoped Jennie would not hear 1t. The first time would be awfpl. Something pulled his head around. He he'd to look back. She he'd left the doorstep and was standing on the bricks watching him.
 "Scab!" yelled a woman across the street.
 The taunt was aimed at Jennie. She flushed and stepped inside the door John looked at the woman, humiliated, angry.
 "Scab!" yelled boy at the corner
 The epithet pointed at him this time. He flushed and turned about.
 "Scab!" yelled the boy again.
 John compressed his lips tightly and walked doggedly to the car. There was knot of men at the corner where he got of, fellow workmen of his, some of whom he knew personally, and with whom he had always been popular. He nodded to them. His ac- luaintances received his greeting with blank silence, and stared at him as he passed, amazed at the impudence of such creature daring to address re- spectable working men. The strangers In the crowd muttered hastily. Tn front of the factory the way was blocked by the throng. On one corner McKichnie, the organizer, was making 3 speech.
 Hurrying toward the foundry, John was confronted at the very gates by Joe Sturtevant His usually red face was drawn and pale, as, with mingled love and horror he muttered hoarsely, "Johni" Then he stood still, gazing up intently into the face of his friend.
 Martin felt the mans eyes searching like tentacles feeling into the depths of his very soul. r. angered him. What right had any man to search his soul?
 Well" he said sneeringly, almost harshly, why don't you smash me in the face?"
 Great God!" Joe gulped softly, and slunk away in the crowd, like a beaten man.
 John Martin stalked into the mill. fercely, but there was a little sinking spot in his heart, Q kind of miseiving.
 What made me mean 10 Joe, if I'm so sure I'm right?" was the question he asked himself. But in a moment he remembered how the impudent Mrs. Letzinslyy had called his wife "scab" a half hour before, and his heart hardened.
 "Cattle!" he growled between his teeth. "I'll bet it's the only English word she knows"
 The emptiness of the great sheds was oppressive.
 Forty out of four hundred" was whispered round, at noon.
 "Only forty out of four hundred that's got sense and the courage of their convictions" declared John re- nectively, as he planted bis strong, clean teeth in the corner ot a sand wich and left it looking as though it had been bitten by a steam shovel. But his remark provoked only sullen, mumbled comment. save for one man, who spoke up loudly, almost rashly:
 That's right, partner" said this man, with a swagger. as he fell to cursing the labor unions. AfteTward John learned that be was a union spy.
 At four thirty they took off a small heat in the foundry. John was fortu- nate in getting the first iron. As quickly as possible he threw off his copes and hurried out.
 A chorus of jeers and hoarse, insult ing cries assailed him as he left the foundry doors. Instantly a group of the cooler heads surrounded 'and sought to argue with him.
 "ft's no use, boys" he said fatly, looking off over their heads. Then one came up outside the circle. a red-faced, excited man, who. reaching oyer the shoulder of another, shook his fist in his face, and hissed through clenched teeth:
 You scab, You dirty scabi'
 The man was Joe Sturtevant
 John felt relieved when his car came. The notorman started up sav- agely. making him lurch awkwardly as he stepped toward seat, and the conductor bounced or him with glare the moment he sat down, aud shouted "Faren in a voice disagreeably loud.
 Seems like I'm kind of yellow dog, today" John muttered to him. self.
 When ne reached home he found his wife in tears. At the vegetable wagon in the morning. some of the women of the neighborhood. as they crowded around. had regarded her with cold looks and silence. others had sneered openly. and one woman, Bridget O'Malley, had threatened her with physical violence and made her the object of such an awful tirade that she had thrown her apron over her ears and taken to flight. Later, when she was hanging out the wash, Bridget stationed herself on the upper stair. way of the Flann;gan home next to them. on the right and hurled down vicious remarks while every hack porch in the block that commanded a view was occupied by all interested audience.
 John Martin kissed the tears out of her eyes and patted her ca the shoul- der.
 There, there, little woman" he said The first days always the worst day"
 Then he sat down, a black look on his face and his teeth set So tightly he forgot all about filling his pipe. His stout arms were clssped risidly and he sat very still with his chair tipped hack in hia accustomed way against