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

COnLInueQ, dc QV1Cker dey come 10 settle,
and de slower dey come to lockoudt next
time"
After the shade of emotion that swept
over them, Martins features settled them
selves in black taciturnity and he sat
speeches. for quarter of an hour, cutting
the piece of fuse into tiny bits with his
iackknife, and all the while Hoffman was
buzzing in his ear In low, insistent tones.
When the German had finished, ne stopped
and lifted a loose bit of planking at his
feet, revealing hole in the ground that
Martin saw was exactly filed by box
labeled Nitro"
Hoffman let the board drop gently
back into place, and it looked like every
other bit of planking about it.
Eve shoot him tonight" he commented.
Martin had been looking down at the
plank. He shifted his gaze to the face of
Hoffman, in a look that was cold and
hard.
Hoffman," he said, in steady tones,
but with certain on1inous quality in them,
q if you shoot off as much as firecracker
in this town or round those works before
this strikes lost or won I'll wiring your neck
like chickens"
He walked away and left Hoffman
standing.
Looking about to see there was no one
in sight in the lanes between lumber piles
through which Martin was going, the Ger
man ran after him. His face was working
in an insane rage.
Tonight he Kissed in the mans ear,
"to-night!'
But Martin did not even glance at him.
He had listened, he had pondered, and he
had had his word. That, therefore, was all
for him.
"Our cause is just, J" he would say "Why
do wrong in the name of the just?"
But there was, for all that, conflict in
the breast of Martin himself. He was a
man who could live his life in the life Of
others. When strikers wife was sick,
when another's baby died, or when Strun-
skey's house burned out to shell, the big
man carried all this on his heart. He found
a way, too, to show his sympathy, and do
his little share in this common burden
bearing.
And if there was no violence among the
strikers, there was violence in the heart
of this giant shepherd of the flock. He
had ,transplanted the conflict to his own
breast, and fought it out there daily. In
that heart was agony, and tears, and hunger,
and wrestling against odds and trampling
-on things tender and sore.
And here now was this crazy Dutchman
secreting dynamite to blow up the Rock
port Foundry and Machine Shop where
John Martin and four of the twelve hundred
strikers had been employed. John was
against it on principle, and he was against
it on policy. There might be short-sighted,
privation-crazed men among the strikers
to aid and abet him; there might be those
who theorized that anything that made
trouble for the bosses was good for the
strikers; but John Martin could see beyond
all this--to the right.
At least, he thought he could.
And then came Denny WEIGH to meet
him, right at the corner by Jack Fogarty's
place, where some portion of the idle men
who nourished their endurance on spirituous
beverages hung out most regularly.
"The boys are goin' to quit, " said Denny,
abruptly.
Johns high, angular brow wrinkled.
Hey he exclaimed, absently, and then
suddenly turned and caught Denny abb
ruptly by the shoulders. Whats that
you say?n he barked in dry, hollow tone
that came from somewhere deep inside of
him.
"They're talkin' it over in Fogarty's now,
a dozen of 'em, answered Denny. "It
started somewhere up street about an hour
ago, and all at once it seemed everybody
was thinkin' the same thing. They say it's
no use The scabs keep coming in. Before
night there Il be FIVE hundred men make a
break for their jobs. LookF' he exclaimed,
glancing past Martins shoulder.
John turned. The doors of Fogarty's
place had swung open accompanied by the
sound of shutting feet, and a string of men
came out and trailed in single file across the
street. Their hats were pulled low over
their eyes. They staggered with disso-
lutte air as they walked, and appeared like
men about to do some desperate, reckless
deed
They're goin' to the big hall" said
Denny, marking the direction they took
at the corner.
"Does McKichnie know?" muttered
Martin hoarsely.
McKichnie was the organizer, who had
come from international headquarters to
conduct the strike
He soon viii, if he don't" answered
Denny. "It's regular stampede. Seel
they AIM stoppin' at the Union Hall. They
are goin' on to the big place"
Is there meeting called7" murmured
John.