THE VICTIMS.
"John Wysong, you will please call at my office at the noon hour."
The foreman of the Bilgal Iron Works, a white man, addressed these words
to John Wysong, Erma's brother, at work in these shops as you have been
told. John's heart gave a joyous bound, as he felt sure that he would be
informed that he had been reported on account of the splendid record he
had worked so hard to make. John had received enough of Erma's
confidence to guess the remainder of her secret, and he was working
doubly hard to make a good record and to receive a promotion so that he
could earn money the faster to pay off the mortgage on their little
home, sell it, and let Erma go off to school by means of the proceeds of
the sale. The mortgage was now overdue, but the holder was a
kind-hearted man, well known to John's father and mother, and no
uneasiness was felt on that score. But John and Erma were very anxious
to pay it off for the reason named above. So John experienced much joy
between eight o'clock and twelve, after being spoken to by the foreman.
He was saying to himself, "After all, it was well for me to have
sacrificed a literary education in order to learn a trade, for teaching
is now an overcrowded profession and there is nothing else in that line
to do. Now, I think I am about to be promoted and will then get four
dollars per day. I _know_ I am going to be promoted, for there are only
two reasons for which men are called to the office as I was, either to
be promoted or turned off. I am glad that my record has been such that I
know I won't be turned off. That was a bully thing in me to stand at the
head of the list for the last quarter." John went on with his work,
whistling and singing and planning great things out of his four dollars
per day.
The noon hour came and John went hurriedly to the office of the foreman.
He looked so grave that John had some slight misgivings that all was not
going to go so well. The foreman was busy arranging some papers, and did
not speak at once. At length he said, "John, you have been a good
faithful workman and we have all liked both you and your work, you have
been so polite, industrious, punctual and painstaking."
John felt reassured by these words and said, "Thank you. Thank you,
indeed. I certainly have striven hard to deserve your good opinion."
When John was through, the foreman resumed, "But I am very sorry to say
that I have bad news for you."
John's hat, which he was holding in his hands, dropped to the floor and
he grew weak from the shock of disappointment. He said to himself, "I am
not promoted. I shall have to work along at the same old figure."
The foreman paused before delivering the next blow. "The bad news that I
have to tell you, John, is that you cannot work for us any more."
"Who has been lying to you on me? Let me face my accuser," said John
aroused, excited.
"No one has spoken ill of you, John. There is not a man in the shop but
is your friend. It is not that we find fault with your work that you
have to go."
"What on earth then is it?" asked John.
"The Labor Union has ordered us to discharge you."
"The Labor Union! I thought that the Bilgal works belonged to Messrs.
Morrison and Brown."
"They do, John, they do. But it is this way. The Labor Union will order
all of its members throughout the country to quit working for any shop
that will employ any man to work who is not a member of the Union. All
of the men in our shop, except yourself, belong to the organization, and
it has sent us word that they will be called out on a strike unless you
are discharged. You see you are not a member and they will not let their
members work with non-union men."
"Is that all there is to the matter? Why, I will just join the Union,
then; that will settle the whole matter."
The foreman smiled a sad sort of smile, saying, "I wish you could, John,
I wish you could. But you cannot. You are a colored man."
John dropped into the seat nearest him and he felt his heart rising up
into his throat as though to choke him. He said in a husky sort of
voice, "I suppose you will give me a recommendation, will you not?"
"Oh, yes, John, with the seal of the firm affixed. But it will do you no
good to have it. This Union controls all the shops in the land, and what
you meet here you will meet everywhere."
John struggled to his feet and, picking up his hat, pulled it down over
his eyes and ran his hands into his pants' pockets. He then looked upon
the foreman like a lion at bay. He said in a voice that creaked with the
emotion of desperation, "Must I finish the day?"
"No, John," said the foreman. "We were ordered to get rid of you before
one o'clock to-day. We put it off till the last moment. John, before you
go, let me inform you of something. For some cause or other you have a
powerful enemy somewhere--a white man. Our men did not report you. They
all liked you and were sorry that you were reported. But we cannot help
ourselves. Good day, John. Watch that enemy."
John walked moodily homeward and when he arrived, found Erma there. This
astonished him as it was about the hour for her to be busy at Mrs.
Turner's. Forgetting all about himself, he said, "Erm, how is this,
darling, I find you at home?"
"John, I have been discharged!" said Erma, falling on his shoulder and
bursting into tears. Erma, sobbing, said, "Mrs. Turner drove me out of
her house as though I was a dog. She dared me to apply for employment
anywhere else in Richmond; and she would not even tell me why I was
discharged. And I was doing so well, too. Franzetta was aiding me so
much in my studies."
John did what he could to soothe Erma. As soon as he thought it was
safe, he told her of his own misfortune. They sat upon the sofa with
their hands clasped, silent. The road of life was becoming rugged. The
mail man's whistle blew and Erma went to the door and was handed a
letter which, upon being opened, told of the foreclosure of the mortgage
on their home. Erma looked at John and John looked at Erma.
Dolly Smith was carrying out her promise.
A party had approached the original holder of the mortgage with a view
to the purchase thereof. The mortgagee disposed of his claim after being
assured that the purchaser would deal leniently with John and Erma. This
pledge was unscrupulously broken and John and Erma were soon turned
adrift upon the streets, penniless and homeless. Erma remembered Aunt
Mollie's invitation and went to dwell with her. John went to a lumber
yard for shelter at night.