Part 44 (2/2)

By the light of the automobile lamp she read the Interpreter's message aloud to Helen.

”Telephone John to come to me at once with a big car. If you can't get John tell Helen.”

For an instant they looked at each other questioningly. Then Helen spoke to the chauffeur. ”To the Interpreter's, Tom.” She indicated to Billy Rand that he was to go with them.

It was not Jake Vodell's purpose to call openly in his address to the a.s.sembled workmen for an attack on the Mill. Such a demonstration against the employer cla.s.s was indeed the purpose of the gathering, but it must come as the spontaneous outburst from the men themselves. His speech was planned merely to lay the kindling for the fire. The actual lighting of the blaze would follow later. The conflagration, too, would be started simultaneously from so many different points in the crowd that no one individual could be singled out as having incited the riot.

The agitator was still speaking when John and Peter Martin arrived on the scene. Quietly and carefully John drove through the outskirts of the crowd to a point close to the wall and not far from the main door of the building, nearly opposite the speaker. Stopping the motor the two men sat in the car listening to Vodell's address.

The agitator did not call attention to the presence of the manager of the Mill as he had to the police, nor was there any noticeable break in his speech. But throughout the great throng there was a movement--a ripple of excitement--as the men looked toward John and the old workman, and turned each to his neighbor with low-spoken comments. And then, from every part of the crowd, the agitator saw individuals moving quietly toward the manager's car until between the two men in the automobile and the main body of the speaker's audience a small compact group of workmen stood shoulder to shoulder. They were the men of the Mill workers' union who had refused to follow Jake Vodell. And every man, as he took his place, greeted John and the old workman with a low word, or a nod and a smile. The agitator concluded his address, and amid the shouts and applause left his place on the goods box to move about among his followers.

Presently, a low murmur arose like a growling undertone. Now and then a voice was raised sharply in characteristic threat or epithet against the employer cla.s.s. The murmur swelled into a heavy menacing roar. The crowd, shaken by some invisible inner force, swayed to and fro. A shrill yell rang out and at the signal scores of hoa.r.s.e voices were raised in shouts of mad defiance--threats and calls for action. As the whirling waters of a maelstrom are drawn to the central point, the mob was ma.s.sed before the doors of the Mill.

The little squad of police was struggling forward. John Ward sprang to his feet. The loyal union men about the car stood fast.

At the sound of the manager's voice the mob hesitated. In all that maddened crowd there was not a soul in ignorance of John Ward's comrades.h.i.+p with his fellow workmen. In spite of Jake Vodell's careful teaching--in spite of his devilish skill in using McIver as an example in his appeals and arguments inciting their hatred against all employers as a cla.s.s, they were checked in their madness by the presence of Captain Charlie's friend.

But it was only for the moment. The members of Vodell's inner circle were at work among them. John had spoken but a few sentences when he was interrupted by voices from the crowd.

”Tell us where your old man got this Mill that he says is his?”

”Where did Adam get his castle on the hill?”

”We and our families live in shanties.”

”Who paid for your automobile, John?”

”We and our children walk.”

As the manager, ignoring the voices, continued his appeal, the interruptions came with more frequency, accompanied now by groans, shouts, hisses and derisive laughter.

”You're all right, John, but you're in with the wrong bunch.”

”We're going to run things for a while now and give you a chance to do some real work.”

The police pleaded with them. The mob jeered, ”Go get a job with McIver's gunmen. Go find the man who murdered Captain Charlie.”

Once more the growling undertones swelled into a roar. ”Come on--come on--we've had enough talk--let's do something.”

As the crowd surged again toward the Mill doors, there was a forward movement of the close-packed group of workmen about the ear. John, leaning over them, said, sharply, ”No--no--not that--men, not that!”

Then suddenly the movement of the mob toward the Mill was again checked as Peter Martin raised his voice. ”If you won't listen to Mr. Ward,”

said the old man, when he had caught their attention, ”perhaps you'll not mind hearin' me.”

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