A FOOLISH STRIKE
The next morning Jack Danby, arriving at the factory, found Pete Stubbs
already there, for it was his duty that week to arrive a little in
advance of the rest of the boys, and open up. He was wearing a glum
face.
"Gee, Jack, here's a peck of trouble," he said. "I got down here and
found that Mr. Simms, the big boss, and Mr. Carew, the manager, had
been here since five o'clock."
"What's wrong, Pete?"
"I dunno, for sure, Jack, but I heard somethin' bein' said about a
strike. And there ain't a man here yet!"
"Well, we're not on strike, Pete. I guess we'd better get busy and do
our work just as if there wasn't anything wrong. Then _we'll_ be all
right, anyhow."
They were busy for a few minutes, as the other office boys and the
clerks began to appear.
"Keep quiet about anything you know or suspect, Pete," said Jack,
warningly, as the rooms began to fill up. "It's all right to tell me,
but you'd better let the others hear anything there is to be known from
Mr. Carew. He'll tell us all, probably, when he gets ready."
But the morning was well advanced before the conference in Mr. Carew's
room was over. There was an unusual silence about the big factory.
None of the machinery was running, which was sufficiently out of the
ordinary to excite a lot of talk and gossip, although Pete gave out
none of the information with which he was almost bursting. Finally,
however, Mr. Carew came out.
"This company," he said, when everyone had turned in silence to face
him, "has done business for a good many years and has never had any
sort of trouble, until now, with any of the people who have worked for
it. Now, unfortunately, some malcontents among the hands here have
spread their ideas, and a strike has been called. We have tried to
reason with the men, but they have quit work, and this factory will be
closed for at least a week, beginning to-day."
"Gee, Jack, that's just what I was afraid of," said Pete, his face
falling. "That means a week's wages gone!"
Murmurs arose from all over the room. But Carew, a smile on his face,
held up his hand for silence, and went on.
"The company has no intention of making you suffer," he said. "Your
wages will go on just the same, and we will simply consider this week's
lay-off as a sort of a vacation. That will be all for now. You will
get notice when it is time for you to return to work."
There was a wild cheer then. A week's wages meant a great deal to most
of the boys and clerks employed in and about the factory, and the
revulsion of feeling when they learned that they were not to lose their
pay was enough to justify even a louder cheer than they gave.
"Danby and Stubbs," said Mr. Carew next, "I wish you'd wait when the
others go, and come into my office. I want to talk to you."
They waited accordingly, and when they went into Mr. Carew's room they
found Mr. Simms, the president of the company, waiting there with the
manager.
"This is very serious business, boys," said Mr. Simms, gravely. "A
strike is one thing, and if the men stopped at a strike they would be
entirely within their rights. Unfortunately, some of them, bad
workers, who had been threatened with dismissal, and others who were
discontented, for one reason or another, have succeeded in stirring up
a lot of hard feeling. And there is no telling what may happen."
"Do you think they'll try to put the place on the bum, sir?" cried
Pete, the irrepressible, his eyes flashing.
Both the men laughed, though their faces showed that they were too
worried to do much laughing.
"I certainly hope they won't attempt anything of the sort, for their
sake, as well as ours, Pete," said Mr. Simms. "If they were let alone,
our old men, even if they were to go on strike, wouldn't make a move
against the company's property. But these rascals who are leading them
want to make it impossible for them to back down and come back to work.
And I am afraid that there are no lengths at which they would stop in
the effort to injure us."
"Here is the point, boys," said Mr. Carew. "We know, from past
experience with you, that you are trustworthy, and loyal to us. Now,
what we want to do is to get through this strike with as little trouble
as possible. We don't want any shooting, as there might be if we
brought in armed men to guard the property. What we want is to prevent
any attempt to destroy the place by getting ample warning of anything
that is tried."
"And you're going to let us look out for them?" cried Pete. "Gee,
that's great, Jack! We can do it, too, can't we?"
"The idea we had," said Carew, "was that you boys, and perhaps some of
your companions in the Boy Scouts, being used to tracking and trailing
in the woods, could keep a better watch than our regular watchmen.
They are faithful enough, and would mean well, but what we are afraid
of is that a lot of clever scoundrels could get inside and set the
place on fire before they knew it. They wouldn't expect boys to be on
the lookout, and we can arrange to have the place protected amply if we
can have a few minutes warning. In that way the plans of the violent
ones among the men would be blocked, and at the same time there would
be no danger of bloodshed, or of anyone being hurt. I would rather
lose a year's pay than have a man of them all injured."
"And I a year's profits, or a good deal more," said Mr. Simms.
"Understand me, boys, we want you to do this in a way that will not get
you yourselves into any danger. Simply stay here tonight, after, the
place is closed up. Mr. Carew and I and a few other men will be
inside, but we don't want to show ourselves. I am having telephones
put in all over the factory, with instruments out in the courtyards, so
that you can get word to us without delay if you see anything
suspicious. Now suppose you run home and get your Scout uniforms. We
will have plenty to eat here, and we will have cots rigged up for you,
too, so that you can sleep in the day time."
"This is almost as good as being in the militia, isn't it, Jack?" said
Pete, as they hurried out.
"I think it's a lot better, Pete. In the militia, if there's a strike,
the men sometimes have to fire into a crowd, and a lot of foolish
people who don't mean any harm may get hurt or killed. I'd hate to
have to do anything like that. I suppose it's necessary, but I'd feel
like a murderer if I'd ever fired into a crowd that way, I know."
"Well, this is going to be a great lark, anyhow, Jack. I'd rather do
this than work, any day!"
"It may be pretty hard work before we're through, Pete. Look over
there!"
They were leaving the factory then, and across the street was a crowd
of men, in their working clothes, sullen and unhappy in appearance.
Two or three men, dressed more like brokers than workmen, were passing
to and fro among them, and leaving a wake of scowls and curses wherever
they passed.
"Strikers!" said Pete. "Gosh, but they don't look like the crowd that
we see coming to work every morning, do they, Jack? They look
different--like wild men, almost."
"It's too bad," said Jack. "I'm mighty sorry to see them go out,
because I know that they're treated as well here as they would be
anywhere in the state, and a lot better than at most places. It's men
like Big Ed Willis, who never wants to work at all, who make the
trouble."
"Just listen here, young feller," said a big man, who appeared suddenly
from behind them, "keep a quiet tongue in yer head about me. I'm Big
Ed, I am, and I'll smash your ugly face in for ye, if ye don't look
out! There's a strike on for higher wages and shorter hours here, see,
and we don't want no scabs, man or boy, goin' into that factory."
"We're not in the union, Ed Willis," said Jack, unafraid. "We make our
own rules about working or not working, and don't you forget it! You
can beat me up easily enough, if you want to, but you won't be much of
a man if you try it."
"For two cents I'd smash you in the jaw, so I would!" said Willis,
blustering, like the true bully he was.
"Let the kid alone, Ed," cried another man, coming across the street.
"He ain't in the union. I think we're fools to strike ourselves.
Don't go to making no more trouble without you need to."
"I'll let you off this time," said Big Ed, a little abashed. "But see
to it that you keep away from the factory over there."
"You mind your business and we'll mind ours!" said Jack. "That'll keep
you plenty busy enough, Ed Willis!"
"Gee, I thought he was going to hit you that time, Jack," said Pete
Stubbs. "I'm pretty small, and if I hit him he'd never know it unless
someone told him, but I was going to smash him behind the ear with a
stone if he tried that."
"He's all bluff and talk," said Jack, disgustedly. "If he does any
fighting, it'll be by letting someone else strike the blows while he
looks on from a place where he knows he won't be hit. There's lots of
fighters like that."
They hurried on home then, and changed from the clothes they wore every
day to work in to their Boy Scout uniforms. Each of them took, too,
his axe and Scout knife, in case of emergencies, though it was hard to
imagine any use they were likely to have for them.
"Look here, Pete," said Jack, when they had changed their clothes and
were ready to start back to the factory, "if we go in the way we came
out they'll see us, and they're likely to watch for us to come out
again. That wouldn't be much use, so I think we'd better try to get
back without being seen."
"How can we do that, Jack?"
"I know a good way. We'll go down to the freight yard and find a car
that is going to be shunted onto the private track. There's a car-load
of wagon wheels due to-day, I know, and the chances are that we can
find that and hide in it. The men at the freight yard would never
know, and when we got inside we could get out and the strikers wouldn't
know we were inside at all."
"That's a fine idea, Jack. We'll do that. Say, that'll be a great
joke on Ed Willis and those other toughs he's got on his side, won't
it?"
"I'll bet they'll never guess we're inside at all, Pete!"
Both boys knew their way around the freight yards very well indeed.
Both had been sent there a good many times by Mr. Carew to look up
delayed shipments, that were needed in the factory, and, as a
consequence, the men at work in the yards, knowing that they worked in
the factory, were not suspicious when Jack began asking about the wagon
wheels. They found the car with little difficulty, and, once they had
discovered that it was to be shunted into the private spur of track
leading into the factory within an hour or two, they did not hesitate
to get inside and hide themselves in one dark corner of the car.
There was plenty of room for them, and they crouched behind a case of
wheels, and told one another stories. It was good fun, they thought,
and they only wished that it was time for their ride to begin.
"Listen!" whispered Pete, suddenly. "That sounds like someone fumbling
for the catch of the car door, Jack."
It was dark in the car, and suddenly, there was a stream of light as
the door was pushed cautiously open.
"Right, oh, Ed," said a hoarse voice, trying to be quiet. "We can
shove the stuff right in here. Then, about midnight, we can get in and
let it off. They'll never open this car up tonight, and they won't
know the stuff's in here."
"Not unless it goes off as she bumps over the frogs going into the
spur," said Big Ed Willis, chuckling. "But if she lets go then
there'll be a pretty big explosion, just the same. May leave a bit of
the factory standing, but it'll take them a long time to make repairs.
It would blow Number Four shop and this car to smithereens, anyhow."
Horrified, but unable to make a move, the two Scouts saw three heavy
boxes being loaded gingerly onto the car and hidden under some sacking.
"There!" said Big Ed. "That's a good job, well done! And it looks
mighty neat. No one'd ever guess, just to look at that sacking, that
there was enough dynamite underneath it to blow half the town up if it
was set properly."
Scarcely had the two men closed the door when the Scouts made a
simultaneous leap for it. But, as they moved, they felt the bump of
the freight engine against the car and a moment later it began to move.
It was too late for them to get off, and they could only sit and watch
that pile of sacking, with its deadly secret beneath it, wondering if
every moment was not to be their last. Every time the car jolted over
a frog in the rail they jumped, wondering why the deadly stuff did not
explode, and Jack was not ashamed to admit afterward that he was sick
with fear during the whole terrible ride. But it ended at last, with
the dynamite still safe and undisturbed, and they breathed great sighs
of relief as they realized that the first and probably the worst of
their perils was really over.
Mr. Simms was incredulous when they reached him and told him of what
they had discovered, but the dynamite was a witness not to be
discredited, and he had to believe when he saw that. With the utmost
care it was removed and placed in water, and then they began to make
fresh plans.