THE GENTLEMAN IN THE WOODPILE
"BOB, I've torn down the woodpile," announced Steve, as he entered their
room at the boarding house half an hour later.
"What woodpile?" demanded Jarvis blankly.
"The one we have been guessing about; and I've found the black gentleman
who has been in hiding there."
"You don't mean that you have solved the mystery?"
"I have."
"Well, you are a wonder. Tell me about it."
"They are trying to unionize the mines."
"You don't say! Who is trying to do it?"
"Cavard is at the bottom of the whole business, I believe. He has with
him the president of the Central Iron Miners' Association and they are
putting up this job together, though I believe the Duke is the real
man."
"So that's the game, is it?"
"It is."
"How did you chance to learn all this?"
Steve related what had occurred in the reading room of the hotel,
telling his companion how he had been lured to Driscold's room on the
pretext of looking over some samples of ore, and where they were soon
joined by the Duke.
"What did they want of you?" questioned Jarvis.
"They wanted me to join the union, of course. They wanted me to use my
influence with the men, promising me quick promotion if I did join in
and help them to organize."
"What did you tell them?"
"I don't remember all I said, but I made it clear that I wanted none of
it. I am satisfied that this union business is a delusion and a snare.
Mr. Carrhart talked with me quite a little on that subject when he was
up here some months ago. He gave me a lot of points about the methods
followed by some of these union organizers, and he showed me what
miserable things strikes are."
"Yes; I guess they are pretty bad," agreed Jarvis. "I have never seen
one."
"And I hope you never will. I don't believe a strike could ever benefit
either employe or employer. Don't you get mixed up with them, Bob."
"Not I," answered Jarvis with emphasis. "I'm pretty well satisfied with
the way I am being used. I've learned a lot of things in the past year,
and most of them I have learned from you. I'm very much obliged for the
licking you gave me. You hammered some sense into my head and I haven't
lost all of it yet. When I do, you may give me another walloping."
"I'm afraid I should not be able to do it now. You have grown since
then, Bob."
"So have you."
"Then we are in good shape to thrash somebody else, if the occasion
demands, eh?"
"You bet! We'll do that, all right. Do you think there is going to be
trouble?"
"I should not be surprised. I do not know, of course, how far this thing
has gone, but the organizers have been working for a long time, as you
and I both know. I am inclined to believe that the Duke has gotten a
strong hold on the men. You observed how our fellows acted after they
returned from their outing on Sunday?"
"Yes; I noticed it. They all acted as if they had lost their week's
wages. So that's what was going on, eh?"
"Yes; they must have had a meeting out at the lake. I wish I knew
whether they have organized or not. I am inclined to believe that they
have not, though. But, if not, they are getting perilously close to
doing so."
"Should we not tell Mr. Penton?"
"I had thought of that, but we talked this matter over once before and
decided not to do so. He probably knows more about what is going on than
we do. However, if we see it is going on to a finish, perhaps it would
be our duty to give him a hint of what we know. I dislike to carry tales
of any kind. Again, I doubt if this is any of our business. We know what
we shall do; we'll fight the proposed union at every opportunity if the
men are going to strike. I believe it would be the worst thing that
could happen to the men, short of a mine disaster, and the company, to
which we owe full allegiance, would suffer greatly."
"What are the men going to do when they become organized?" asked Bob.
"Judging from what the two men said, I should judge they would demand
higher wages and shorter hours."
Bob uttered a grunt of disapproval.
"Next thing we know they'll be wanting the bosses to lay them off and
pay them double wages while they are off. I never saw anything like the
cheek of some people."
"The laboring man is entitled to some consideration," mused Steve. "But
there is a limit. We will lie low and attend to our own business until
something else develops."
Something did develop later in the week. The word had been passed
quietly about that there was to be a meeting of the miners of the day
shift to take up the question of organizing. The meeting was to be held
in a bowling alley over the only livery stable in the place. Only those
were invited of whom the organizers were sure.
Bob Jarvis got wind of the meeting through overhearing two of the men in
his shift discussing it. He told Steve at the first opportunity. The
latter thought over the matter all the rest of the day.
"Bob," he said, that night, "I am going to attend that meeting. Will you
come along?"
"Where you go, I go," answered Jarvis, laughingly. "But won't they put
us out?"
"I guess not. If they do, it won't help their cause any. They will be
glad to have us there if they think they can convert us. At least, we
shall know what is going on, and we may be able to do something for the
company."
"Do what?"
"I don't know. We shall see," Steve replied enigmatically. "Leave it to
me. Don't do anything rash, but let me engineer this thing. I may bring
trouble down upon my head, but I have an idea."
Bob agreed to "be good." The meeting was scheduled to be held that
night, and nine o'clock was the appointed hour.
The boys delayed their walk that evening. They did not leave the house
until long after eight o'clock, by which time nearly all the men from
the boarding house had dressed themselves in their best and hurried
away.
"You see, they are all going to attend the meeting," nodded Rush. "That
shows you how far this thing has advanced."
"It certainly looks that way. I didn't think it was anything like this,
did you, Steve?"
"No; I did not. We had better be starting now."
On the way the lads were hailed by Mr. Penton.
"Where are you going in such a hurry, lads?" he called.
"We are going out for the evening," answered Steve. "I have been
thinking about labor unions to-day, Mr. Penton. Are you opposed to them?
Are they a factor for good or otherwise?"
The superintendent laughed.
"Older heads than yours have disagreed on that subject. I hold rather
pronounced views. There are unions that are ably managed by upright,
intelligent men. Such unions are a good thing. The difficulty is that
many others are managed by unscrupulous men, working to serve only their
own ends, no matter what the cost to the employer. Such unions are a
menace, both to the men and to their employers. That is my position."
"Then, Mr. Penton, if you were to have a union, say in your mines here,
honestly managed and directed by upright men, you would not object to
it?"
"Most assuredly not."
This was a new point of view for Steve Rush. It gave him a broader
insight into the question.
"Are you thinking of organizing a union, my boy?" asked the
superintendent, with a smile.
"Well, not exactly, sir. If I were to join a union would it prejudice
you against me?"
"Not at all. I know you--know your honesty too well. It would be a good
thing for any union to have such men as yourself and Jarvis with it."
"Thank you, sir," answered Steve.
The boys bade the superintendent good-bye and went on their way to the
meeting place.
"What in the world did all those questions of yours mean?" demanded Bob
after they had gotten out of ear shot of the superintendent.
Steve did not answer. He was thinking deeply.
"You have something in mind, Steve Rush."
"Yes, I have, Bob. In fact, I have partially changed my mind."
"About what have you changed your mind?"
"I will tell you later."
Reaching the hall where the meeting was to be held, the chums found the
place packed with miners. As the boys made their way to the rear of the
room, where they saw an unoccupied window seat, the miners recognized
them and set up a loud cheer.
Driscold and Cavard occupied seats on the platform. The men exchanged
significant glances when they saw the boys enter the hall. They were not
quite sure whether they approved the presence of the Iron Boys. But, in
view of the attitude taken by the miners, the two men could not well
object to Steve and Bob remaining.
Mr. Driscold soon after called the meeting to order. He stated very
briefly the purpose of the organization, which was, in short, he said,
to guard the men from oppression and to look out for their general
welfare. He gave figures to show how many of the miners of the country
already belonged to unions, and urged the men to form a union before
leaving the hall.
"How many of you are in favor of doing this?" he demanded. "All in favor
will rise."
Nearly every man in the hall rose to his feet, though the Iron Boys sat
quietly in their places.
Next Mr. Driscold proposed Mr. Cavard for president of the local union,
which was to include all the mines on the range, and from all of which
representatives were present. Cavard was elected unanimously. Steve
caught the faint flicker of a smile as it swept over the face of the
Duke. Rush nudged his companion.
"The next thing," continued Mr. Driscold, "will be the election of a
secretary. This should be done before any other business is transacted.
After that you will all sign your names to the roll. I have a charter
already made out for you. Who will you have for your secretary?"
"Steve Rush!" shouted a voice.
"Rush, Rush, Rush!" shouted voices from all parts of the hall, until the
demand became one insistent roar.
"I move we elect Steve Rush our secretary," cried a man, springing to a
chair.
"Second the motion!"
Driscold, rather red of face, rapped for order.
"It has been moved and seconded that Stephen Rush be elected as
secretary of this organization. I will not attempt to advise you. It is
for you to say whom you desire to fill your offices. But be sure that
you make no mistake. Rush may be a most estimable young man, but you
must remember that he is young."
"Not so young that he didn't save the lives of a lot of the men," cried
one.
"Rush, Rush, Rush!" roared the miners.
"All in favor will rise," announced Driscold.
He plainly showed his irritation, as did Cavard. The meeting had taken a
turn that they did not like. Still, the organizers had won. Affairs were
practically in their own hands.
Every man in the room sprang to his feet, shouting for the Iron Boy.
"Young Rush is unanimously elected," announced Driscold. "The newly
elected officers will take their places."
Cavard took the chair. At that moment several men swooped down toward
the place where the boys were sitting.
Bob Jarvis was so amazed that for a moment he did not speak.
"What are you going to do, Steve?" he stammered.
"I am going to accept," announced the lad in a determined tone.
"You--you are going to join the union?"
"Yes; I am going to join the union. I would suggest that you do the
same. I have changed my mind, old chap, and I'll tell you why later."
The miners grabbed Steve, hoisted him to their shoulders and bore him to
the platform, where they set him down in a chair at the table placed for
the secretary.