Part 43 (2/2)

When the Judge had stilled the tumult, he said in his sternest judicial manner, ”Now, Adams--we have heard enough of you. Leave this district.

Get out of this Valley. You have threatened us; we shall not protect you in life or limb. You are given two hours to leave the Valley, and after that you stay here at your own peril. If you try to hold your labor council, don't ask us, whom you have scorned, to surround you with the protection of the society you would overthrow in bloodshed. Now, go--get out of here,” he cried, with all the fire and fury that an outraged respectability could muster. But Grant, turning, twisted his hook in the Judge's coat, held him at arm's length, and leaning toward the crowd, with the Judge all but dangling from his steel arm, cried: ”I shall speak in South Harvey to-night. This is indeed a life and death struggle, and I shall preach the gospel of life. Life,” he cried with a trumpet voice, ”life--the life of society, and its eternal resurrection out of the forces of life that flow from the everlasting divine spring!”

After the crowd had left the hall, Grant hurried toward the street leading to South Harvey. As he turned the corner, the man whom Grant had seen in the hall met him, the man whom Grant recognized as a puddler in one of the smelters. He came up, touched Grant on the shoulder and asked:

”Adams?” Grant nodded.

”Are you going down to South Harvey?”

Grant replied, ”Yes, I'm going to hold a meeting there to-night.”

”Well, if you try,” said the man, pus.h.i.+ng his face close to Grant's, ”you'll get your head knocked off--that's all. We don't like your kind--understand?” Grant looked at the man, took his measure physically and returned:

”All right, there'll be some one around to pick it up--maybe!”

The man walked away, but turned to say:

”Mind now--you show up in South Harvey, and we'll fix you right!”

As Grant turned to board a South Harvey car, Judge Van Dorn caught his arm, and said:

”Wait a minute, the next car will do.”

The Judge's wife was with him, and Grant was shocked to see how doll-like her face had become, how the lines of character had been smoothed out, the eyelids stained, the eyebrows penciled, the lips colored, until she had a bisque look that made him shudder. He had seen faces like hers, and fancied that he knew their story.

”I would like to speak with you just a minute. Come up to the office.

Margaret, dearie,” said Van Dorn, ”you wait for me at Brotherton's.” In the office, Van Dorn squared himself before Grant and said:

”It's no use, sir. You can't hold a meeting there to-night--the thing's set against you. I can't stop them, but I know the rough element there will kill you if you try. You've done your best--why risk your head, man--for no purpose? You can't make it--and it's dangerous for you to try.”

Grant looked at Van Dorn. Then he asked:

”You represent the Harvey Fuel Company, Judge?”

”Yes,” replied the Judge with much pride of authority, ”and we--”

Grant stopped him. ”Judge,” he said, ”if you blow your horn--I'll ring my bell and--If I don't hold my meeting to-night, your mines won't open to-morrow morning.” The Judge rose and led the way to the door.

”Oh, well,” he sneered, ”if you won't take advice, there's no need of wasting time on you.”

”No,” answered Grant, ”only remember what I've said.”

When Grant alighted from the car in South Harvey, he found his puddler friend waiting for him. The two went into the Vanderbilt House, where Grant greeted Mrs. Williams, the landlady, as an old friend, and the puddler cried: ”Say, lady--if you keep this man--we'll burn your house.”

”Well, burn it--it wouldn't be much loss,” retorted the landlady, who turned her back upon the puddler and said to Grant: ”We've given you the front room upstairs, Grant, for the committee. It has the outside staircase. Your room is ready. You know the Local No. 10 boys from the Independent are all coming around this afternoon--as soon as they learn where the meeting is.”

The puddler walked away and Grant went out into the street; looked up at the wooden structure with the stairway rising from the sidewalk and splitting the house in two. Mounting the stairs, he found a narrow hall, leading down a long line of bedrooms. He realized that he must view his location as a general looks over a battlefield.

The closing of the public halls to Grant and his cause had not discouraged him. He knew that he still had the great free out-of-doors, and he had thought that an open air meeting would give the cause dramatic setting. He felt that to be barred from the halls of the Valley helped rather than hurt his meeting. The barring proved to the workers the righteousness of their demands. So Grant sallied forth to locate a vacant lot; he shot out of his room full of the force of his enthusiasm, but his force met another force as strong as his, and ruthless. G.o.d's free out of doors, known and beloved of Grant from his boyhood, was preempted: What he found in his quest for a meeting place was a large red sign, ”No trespa.s.sing,” upon the nearest vacant lot, and a special policeman parading back and forth in front of the lot on the sidewalk.

He found a score of lots similarly placarded and patrolled. He sent men to Magnus and Foley scurrying like ants through the Valley, but no lot was available.

<script>