Part 32 (1/2)
”Men say you tell bosses not to pay us money. Then we must strike and get more. Huh?”
”They have told you lies, Olsen. I tried to prevent the strike. I knew how much you would all suffer if there were a strike, but the men would not listen to me. You may go to work if you wish to. There is nothing to hinder your doing so.”
”Not have me.”
”Oh, yes, they will.”
”You come with me, huh?”
”Where to?”
”Come; I show you what strike does. You come home with me, you see what strike does.”
Without waiting for the boy to a.s.sent, Olsen, with his grip still on Steve's shoulder, started, fairly dragging the Iron Boy along with him.
Rush no longer offered any resistance. Something about the Icelander impressed the boy strongly. There was a note of hopelessness in the man's tone, though his face was impa.s.sive, which told Steve that the fellow was suffering great mental anguish.
”You need not hang to my shoulder, Olsen. I will go with you if you want me to,” said the boy in a kindly tone.
But Segunder gave no heed. He held tightly to Steve's shoulder. The two hurried on, the Icelander taking long strides. He led the way to the outskirts of the village, coming to a halt before a dilapidated, one-storied cottage, the door of which Olsen pushed open, thrusting Steve Rush in. Olsen followed, closing the door.
A solitary candle furnished all the light there was in the room. There was no fire in the stove, though the weather was cold, the snow falling early in that far northern region.
A woman sat holding a baby close to her to give the child some of the warmth from her own body. She was pale and thin, but Steve noted that her eyes lighted up as they fixed themselves upon the face of Olsen.
On a bed lay a girl of some ten years. The child was thin and emaciated, and the Iron Boy saw at once that she was in a high fever.
”Him make strike,” announced Olsen, pointing to Steve Rush.
”Madame, are you Mrs. Olsen?” asked the lad.
”Yes, sir,” answered the woman in good English. ”Who are you?”
”My name is Rush. Your husband has brought me here, for what purpose I do not know.”
”He says you are responsible for this terrible strike. Are you?”
”I am not. I have had no more to do with bringing it on than you. I did all I could to prevent it. Your husband is in error. The men have told him untruths about me. If your husband wishes to leave the union and go to work, I will see that he begins work to-morrow. Has he tried?”
”Yes, sir. He has been to the mine nearly every day, but they would not take him.”
”Whom did you ask for work?” demanded Steve, turning to Olsen.
”Little captain, Red Rock.”
”You mean Mr. Barton, mining captain of the Red Rock Mine?”
Olsen nodded.
”And he would not take you back?”