The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1912-02-28

of you anxious men-every hungry wife.
and child and empty cupboard; every bin
that's shy of coal or potatoes is a reason
why l can't abandon this strike and go back
to work. Some of you have got Grape on
your hats since this strike begun. Others
of you didn't have the price to put it on
your hats, but you're a-wearing mourning
in your hearts. Well, those are other
reasons why I've got to stay on strike.
Now, don't know why you fellows
come here, nor what you're going to do;
but, so help me God, I'm going to stay ont. .
He had been talking in low, even tones
of great earnestness that penetrated to
every corner Of the room.
When he ceased speaking there as silence
for moment, breathless silence, and then
creaking of chairs as men Strengthened up
and drew full breaths again. But the ex-
preston on every face had changed. From
being mass they had become individuals,
and from extreme excitability they had
passed to a solemn calm.
Martin knew that he had poured theme
81 call for de qvestion, said Hoffman
from the back of the house, even his fiery
soul sufficiently tanned to express itself in
unaffected tones.
Question:"
McKichnie put Martins motion to con-
tinue the strike indefinitely.
1t was carried with thunderous "Ayel
And then without the formaIity of adj
iournment the meeting broke up. It was
entirely unofficial The president of neither
union involved in the strike had presided,
nor had the secretary recorded the proceed
ings McKichnie and Martin had CHANGED
upon it, had made themselves a part of it,
each had done his work and each knew, as
the crowd melted away, that the day had
been absolutely won, and that it would be
long and only after another tedious series
of hardships, disappointments and deferred
hopes that they would have to fear another
such mutiny.
John was leaning once more against the
platform, and his face had fallen into one
of those complete distractions which often
overcame him.
McKichnie stepped down and clapped
him heartily on the shoulder. Many
crowded near and pressed his hand, but
Martin hardly seemed to notice them. He
stood apart, silent, bowed with some
weighty responsibility, unseeing, unhearing,
like the prophet, Ezra, at Chebar, and yet
Just now, his silence, his black, passionate
abstraction was to the men a supreme
influence. They knew he was fighting this
fight with his whole soul, and they con-
tented themselves with looking on his face
and then, like satisfied children, drifted on
out of the hall about their several concerns,
leaving him to the lonely vigil of his passion.
Il
three full hours, for McKichnie, like the
rest, had respected his mood and left him
there And only the sudden realization
that darkness had fallen reminded him that
he was alone in the great, empty cham
Der. As he returned to consciousness of
his surroundings, he began to talk aloud to
himself
when the bosses refuse to arbitrate,"
he was saying, and bring other men in
to take our Jobs, are we beat if they just
get place-takers enough to fill them?"
His feet and ankles were cramped from
long standing in one position. He stood
first on one foot and then on the other,
twisting his ankles and working his toes in
his shoes, but still he was bordering:
'Or, if they've got the right to haul
them In, if they can, why haven we got the
right to drag EN- out if zoe can? 1t amt
even a fair test of endurance We can
starve ourselves to death and then not win
-Godw
He suddenly interrupted himself with
startled gasp, right in the midst of his
reflective train of thought.
"The Dutchmanp' he exclaimed, striking
his thigh cts night, and that crazy
Hoffman was going to shoot up the works
tonight If he does it the cause Is lost
Hoffman was hot-head, but no buffer.
What he proposed, he undertook
A few minutes later he paused for breath
amid the silent shadows Of the lumber yard,
at the very spot where he had stood with
Hoffman The hole was there-but
empty. There was not a stick Of explosive,
not coil of fuse. The very box was gone.
1t was a quarter of mile across the
railroad yards in the bottoms to the plant
OF the Rockport Foundry and Machine
Shop This was the largest Of the employ
ing concerns, the one where Hoffman had
been engaged as machinist, and where
John himself worked as molder. Martin
had not doubt in the world that Hoffman
would carry through his design there, or
attempt it, and tonight. The mischief was
afoot. The empty hole yawning in black
ness before his cropping hands as he squatted
on his knees between the lumber piles
proved that. Somewhere over there in the
shadow Hoffman was carrying those
potent cylinders of destruction.