"Hm-m!" said Kearney, with no evidence of enthusiasm in his tone.
"That'll bring 'em out, I suppose."
"Just the thing!" said Waldorf, with warm appreciation of his
colleague's work. "It should call out every man and woman who is in
sympathy with the oppressed toilers. 'To express sympathy and take
other action in regard to their fellow workmen.' That's well put,
Parks."
"What other action are you going to take?" asked Enos suspiciously.
"Come to the meeting and see," said Parks.
*CHAPTER XX*
*ON THE SAND-LOTS*
City Hall Avenue and the vacant lots below it bustled with the activity
of an arriving circus. Two bonfires blazing fiercely sent the crackling
sparks flying skyward, and cast so warm a glow on the faces of those who
approached them, that even the small boys, who dared one another to feed
the flames, shielded their eyes with uplifted arm, and made their bows
before the altar of the God of Fire in reverse of the customary attitude
of respect.
A wooden platform had been erected near the lower end of the triangle of
vacant lots, and a row of gasoline torches blazed about it. Groups of
men were gathered here and there about the sandy space, listening to
impromptu orators arguing in dissonant chorus over the significance of
the eastern riots, or denouncing the Chinese as the source of all
industrial and social woes.
The groups were in a state of flux, swelling where the voices rose
loudest, and melting away where the discussion sank to a conversational
monotone. But the most active elements of the crowd were the bands of
young men, hardly more than boys, who formed into gangs of ten to
twenty, and roughly pushed and jostled their way through the crowd with
cries that indicated their disesteem for the Chinese, their regard for
Kearney and for the Pittsburgh rioters, and their especial disapproval
of the police.
Behind the bonfires and torches, the dark groups and eddying streams of
men, rose the half-built New City Hall. Touched here and there with the
red glow of the bonfires in front, and framed in silhouette by the dying
shimmer of the sunset behind, it looked like some ancient, majestic
ruin--far different in outline from the ruin it was to become, when
thirty years later it was racked by earthquake, and swept by a mighty
conflagration--yet one that furnished a striking background for the
turbulent scene enacted before it.
As I entered the crowded space from the Market Street side, I had noted
these details before I discovered Parks standing by the platform and
glancing impatiently about him.
"Hampden," he cried, "I am glad to see that you have joined this great
outpouring of the people. You shall have a seat with me on the
platform."
"I wouldn't miss the fun for fifteen cents. But what are you going to
do? What's your plan?"
"We shall follow the wishes of our fellow-citizens," said Parks, with a
nod of mystery, importing designs that could not be revealed until the
moment of execution. "But the first thing is to have the speeches
delivered, and we are away behind time. The meeting ought to have been
called to order twenty minutes ago, but the procession is late, of
course. I never knew one that wasn't." And he looked irritably into
Market Street, and made some unfavorable comments on the marshals of the
parade.
"Here it comes now!" exclaimed another member of the group, as a blare
of horns, the thump of a drum and a confused sound of cheering disturbed
the air.
The procession soon came into sight as it advanced up Market Street and
turned into the sand-lots. At its head marched a brass band, and
scattered here and there in the trailing line were a few hundred
torches--spoil from the election campaign of the preceding year. While
the attention of all was fixed on the manoeuvers of the marching clubs,
I felt my sleeve plucked, and turned to find Clark beside me. Without
looking at me he slipped a piece of paper into my hand, and moved away.
I held the paper under one of the gasoline torches, and read:
Some mischief ahead. Jim Morgan has been hiring men. Had 20 or 30 young
fellows cooped up near hdqrs. this p.m. They are marching up with the
clubs.
I puzzled for a little over the particular variety of mischief that was
imported by this activity of Bolton's agent, and then stepping behind
Clark, said:
"Keep as close to the gang as you can. If you find out what they are up
to, bring me word at once. I'll be on the platform here."
Without appearing to notice me, Clark gave a signal that he understood,
and as he moved away Parks tapped me on the shoulder.
"Here! We must start this thing now," he said. "We're over half an hour
late. Come up on the platform. Where in the name of Halifax can
Kearney be? He hasn't come up with the clubs, and he hasn't sent any
word."