Patsy, the postman and the newsgatherers, who left the headquarters of
the company and wandered over to the Grand Pacific where the strikers
held forth, must have been struck forcibly by the vast difference in the
appearance of the two places upon this particular morning. At the first
place all was neatness and order in spite of the deplorable condition of
affairs outside; and a single man handled the almost endless flood of
letters and telegrams that fell like autumn leaves upon his desk.
In fact, the office boy and the colored porter were the only people
about the company's headquarters who showed any real anxiety.
At the headquarters of the strikers all was confusion and disorder. The
outer offices and ante-rooms were filled with a vast crowd of men who
idled about, smoked, swapped stories and swore; and some of them, I'm
sorry to say, chewed tobacco and flooded the floor with inexcusable
filth. Even Mr. Hogan's private office was not private. Leading strikers
and men prominent in the Brotherhood loafed there as the others loafed
outside. Not more than half the men about the building had ever been
employed by the Burlington company. There were scores of "tramp"
switchmen and travelling trainmen, made reckless by idleness, as men are
sometimes made desperate by hunger, with an alarmingly large
representation of real criminals, who follow strikes as "grafters"
follow a circus. If a striker lost his temper and talked as he ought not
to talk, this latter specimen was always ready to encourage him; for
whatever promised trouble for others promised profitable pastime for the
criminal. If the real workers could keep clear of this class, as well as
the idle, loafing element in their own profession, ninety per cent. of
the alleged labor outrages would never be committed. Very likely there
were a number of detectives moving among the strikers, and they, too,
have been known to counsel violence in order to perpetuate a struggle
between labor and capital that they themselves might not be idle. It is
only in the best organized agencies that detectives can be relied upon
to take no undue advantage of those whom they are sent out to detect.
Over in another part of the same building, where the firemen held forth,
the scene was about the same, save that the men there were younger in
years and louder in their abuse of the railway officials; and generally
less discreet.
"_Always together in sunshine and rain,
Facing the weather atop o' the train_,"
sang Patsy as he strolled into the private office of Chairman Borphy,
who was in charge of the firemen's end of the strike. Borphy greeted
Patsy pleasantly as did the others in the office, with one exception.
Over in a window sat fireman George Cowels, a great striker, and in the
eyes of some of his enthusiastic friends a great man, and in his own
estimation a great orator. Removing his cigar in order to give the
proper effect to the expression he was about to assume, Cowels gave
Patsy a hard searching look as he asked:
"Does that song of yours mean yourself and the general manager?"
"An' if it does," said Patsy, stepping close in front of his questioner:
"What's it _to_ you?"
"Just this," said Cowels: "You have been watched. You went to the
general office this morning the moment it was open, and took a message
for Mr. Stonaker to the general manager of the C. & N. W. Does that fit
your case? Perhaps you will favor us with the result of your mission!
Come, will the North Western help your friend out?"
At the conclusion of this eloquent burst of indignation Cowels smiled
triumphantly, for, as Patsy paled into silence, the big fellow thought
he had his man scared; but when Patsy took another step forward, forcing
his opponent back to the window, and asked between his closed teeth, if
Cowels meant to accuse him of betraying the strikers to the company
every one in the room realized that something was about to happen.
Perhaps Cowels thought so, too, but he was in a hole and could only
answer Yes. The next instant Patsy drove his fist up under the orator's
chin, and the back of that gentleman's head made a hole in the window.
The bystanders, knowing the temper of both the men, sprang between them
before any further damage could be done.
If Patsy had the best of the fight he had the worst of the argument. He
had been openly accused of being a "spotter" and had made no explanation
of his conduct; so when it was reported that he had gone to Council
Bluffs over the North Western, the more ignorant and noisy of his
associates were easily persuaded that such a favor to a striker could
only be secured upon the request of Mr. Stonaker and that request would
be given only for services rendered; and Patsy Daly was from that day
doomed to walk under a cloud.
* * * * *
The long struggle was beginning to tell on the strikers. It was
evidenced in the shiny suits worn by the men who met daily at the hall
in town to discuss the strike. It was seen again in the worn wraps of
many a mother and in the torn shoes of school-children. These were only
the outer signs, the real suffering was carefully covered up--hidden in
the homes where home comfort had become a reminiscence. The battle at
first had been with the strong but now the brunt of it was being shifted
to the shoulders of the women, the wives and mothers of the strikers.
These patient martyrs, whose business it had been to look after the
home, now suffered the humiliation of having door after door closed to
them and their children. Of a morning you might see them tramping
through the snow from shop to shop trying to secure credit for the day.
The strike would be over in a little while, they argued, but the
struggling shop-keeper had his own to look after. The wholesale houses
were refusing him credit and so he was powerless to help the hungry
wives of worthy workmen. The men themselves were beginning to lose
heart. Many a man who had not known what it was to be without a dollar
now saw those dearest to him in actual want and went away to look for
work on other roads. Finally, a monster union meeting was called for the
purpose of getting an expression of opinion as to the advisability of
making the best possible terms with the company and calling the strike
off. Here the engine-men, trainmen and switchmen met, but the radical
element was in the majority, and the suggestions of the heads of the
various Brotherhoods that the strike be called off were howled down by
the unterrified. It was at this meeting that a tall, powerful, but mild
mannered man, stood up in the face of all the opposing elements and
advised that the strike be ended at once. He did not suggest this from a
selfish motive, he said. He was a single man and had money enough to
keep himself in idleness for a year, but there were hundreds of families
who were in want, and it was for these he was pleading. The speaker was
interrupted repeatedly, but he kept his place and continued to talk
until the mob became silent and listened out of mere curiosity. "You can
never hold an army of hungry men together," said the speaker; "you can't
fight gold with a famine. The company, we are told, has already lost a
million dollars. What of it? You forget that it has been making millions
annually for the past ten years. What have we been making? Lots of
money, I'll admit, but none of it has been saved. The company is rich,
the brotherhoods are bankrupt. From the remotest corners of the country
comes the cry of men weary of paying assessments to support us in
idleness. To-day some sort of settlement might be made--to-morrow it may
be too late."
At this juncture the mob howled the speaker down again. Men climbed over
benches to get at the "traitor." A man who had been persuaded to leave
the company, and who had been taken into the order only the day before,
tried to strike the engineer in the face. In the midst of the
excitement, George Cowels of the Fireman's Brotherhood leaped upon the
platform and at sight of him and the sound of his powerful voice the
rioters became quiet.
"I think," he began slowly to show how easy it was for a truly great
leader to keep cool in the hottest of the fight, "I think I can explain
the action of the last speaker."
Here he paused and looked down into the frank face of Dan Moran and
continued:
"Mr. Moran, as many of you know, has one of the best runs on the road.
He has had it for a good many years and he loathes to leave it. By
denying himself the luxury of a cigar and never taking a drink he has
managed to save up some money. He is a money-getter--a money-saver and
it hurts him to be idle. I have been firing for him for five years and
in all that time he has never been the man to say: 'Come, George, let's
have a drink or a cigar.' Now I propose that we chip in and pay Mr. Dan
Moran his little four dollars a day. Let us fight this fight to a
finish. Let there be no retreat until the proud banner of our
Brotherhood waves above the blackened ruins of the once powerful
Burlington route. Down with all traitors: on with the fight."
At the conclusion of this speech the audience went wild. When order had
been partially restored a vote was taken, when it was shown that
seven-eighths of the men were in favor of continuing the strike.
The engineers had really been spoiled by success. At the last annual
convention they had voted to exterminate the classification system, and
had passed a law making it impossible for the head of the organization
to make any settlement that included a continuation of classification.
The scalps of the Atchison, the Alton, the Louisville and Nashville, and
a number of other strong companies dangled at the belt of the big chief
of the Engineers' Brotherhood. These were all won by diplomacy, but the
men did not know it. They believed that the show of strength had awed
the railway officials of the country and that the railway labor
organizations were invincible. A little easing off by the Brotherhood,
and a little forbearance on the part of the management might, at the
start, have averted the great struggle; but when once war had been
declared the generals on both sides had no choice but to fight it out to
a finish.