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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3244-0.txt b/3244-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b61f4d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/3244-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10214 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of To Him That Hath, by Ralph Connor + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: To Him That Hath + A Novel Of The West Of Today + +Author: Ralph Connor + +Release Date: June 3, 2006 [EBook #3244] +Last Updated: March 5, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO HIM THAT HATH *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +TO HIM THAT HATH + +A NOVEL OF THE WEST OF TODAY + + +By Ralph Connor + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + +I THE GAME + +II THE COST OF SACRIFICE + +III THE HEATHEN QUEST + +IV ANNETTE + +V THE RECTORY + +VI THE GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE + +VII THE FOREMAN + +VIII FREE SPEECH + +IX THE DAY BEFORE + +X THE NIGHT OF VICTORY + +XI THE NEW MANAGER + +XII LIGHT THAT IS DARKNESS + +XIII THE STRIKE + +XIV GATHERING CLOUDS + +XV THE STORM + +XVI A GALLANT FIGHT + +XVII SHALL BE GIVEN + + + + +TO HIM THAT HATH + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE GAME + + +“Forty-Love.” + +“Game! and Set. Six to two.” + +A ripple of cheers ran round the court, followed by a buzz of excited +conversation. + +The young men smiled at each other and at their friends on the side +lines and proceeded to change courts for the next set, pausing for +refreshments on the way. + +“Much too lazy, Captain Jack. I am quite out of patience with you,” + cried a young girl whose brown eyes were dancing with mock indignation. + +Captain Jack turned with a slightly bored look on his thin dark face. + +“Too lazy, Frances?” drawled he. “I believe you. But think of the +temperature.” + +“You have humiliated me dreadfully,” she said severely. + +“Humiliated you? You shock me. But how, pray?” Captain Jack's eyes +opened wide. + +“You, a Canadian, and our best player--at least, you used to be--to +allow yourself to be beaten by a--a--” she glanced at his opponent with +a defiant smile--“a foreigner.” + +“Oh! I say, Miss Frances,” exclaimed that young man. + +“A foreigner?” exclaimed Captain Jack. “Better not let Adrien hear you.” + He turned toward a tall fair girl standing near. + +“What's that?” said the girl. “Did I hear aright?” + +“Well, he's not a Canadian, I mean,” said Frances, sticking to her guns. +“Besides, I can't stand Adrien crowing over me. She is already far too +English, don-che-know. You have given her one more occasion for triumph +over us Colonials.” + +“Ah, this is serious,” said Captain Jack. “But really it is too hot you +know for--what shall I say?--International complications.” + +“Jack, you are plain lazy,” said Frances. “You know you are. You don't +deserve to win, but if you really would put your back into it--” + +“Oh, come, Frances. Why! You don't know that my cousin played for his +College at Oxford. And that is saying something,” said Adrien. + +“There you are, Jack! That's the sort of thing I have to live with,” + said Frances. “She thinks that settles everything.” + +“Well, doesn't it rather?” smiled Adrien. + +“Oh, Jack, if you have any regard for your country, not to say my +unworthy self, won't you humble her?” implored Frances. “If you would +only buck up!” + +“He will need to, eh, Adrien?” said a young fellow standing near, slowly +sipping his drink. + +“I think so. Indeed, I am quite sure of it,” coolly replied the girl +addressed. “But I really think it is quite useless.” + +“Ha! Ha! Cheer up, Jack,” laughed the young man, Stillwell by name. + +“Really, old chap, I feel I must beat you this set,” said Captain Jack +to the young Englishman. “My country's credit as well as my own is at +stake, you see.” + +“Both are fairly assured, I should say,” said the Englishman. + +“Not to-day,” said Stillwell, with a suspicion of a polite sneer in his +voice. “My money says so.” + +“Canada vs. the Old Country!” cried a voice from the company. + +“Now, Jack, Jack, remember,” implored Frances. + +“You have no mercy, Miss Frances, I see,” said the Englishman, looking +straight into her eyes. + +“Absolutely none,” she replied, smiling saucily at him. + +“Vae victis, eh, old chap?” said Sidney, as they sauntered off together +to their respective courts. “By the way, who is that Stillwell chap?” he +asked in a low voice of Captain Jack as they moved away from the others. +“Of any particular importance?” + +“I think you've got him all right,” replied Jack carelessly. The +Englishman nodded. + +“He somehow gets my goat,” said Jack. The Englishman looked mystified. + +“Rubs me the wrong way, you know.” + +“Oh, very good, very good. I must remember that.” + +“He rather fancies his own game, too,” said Jack, “and he has come +on the last year or two. In more ways than one,” he added as an +afterthought. + +As they faced each other on the court it was Stillwell's voice that rang +out: + +“Now then, England!” + +“Canada!” cried a girl's voice that was easily recognised as that of +Frances Amory. + +“Thumbs down, eh, Maitland?” said the Englishman, waving a hand toward +his charming enemy. + +Whatever the cause, whether from the spur supplied by the young lady who +had constituted herself his champion or from the sting from the man +for whom for reasons sufficient for himself he had only feelings of +hostility and dislike, the game put up by Captain Jack was of quite a +different brand from that he had previously furnished. From the +first service he took the offensive and throughout played brilliant, +aggressive, even smashing tennis, so much so that his opponent appeared +to be almost outclassed and at the close the figures of the first set +were exactly reversed, standing six to two in Captain Jack's favour. + +The warmth of the cheers that followed attested the popularity of the +win. + +“My word, old chap, that is top-hole tennis,” said the Englishman, +warmly congratulating him. + +“Luck, old boy, brilliant luck!” said Captain Jack. “Couldn't do it +again for a bet.” + +“You must do it just once more,” said Frances, coming to meet the +players. “Oh, you dear old thing. Come and be refreshed. Here is the +longest, coolest thing in drinks this Club affords. And one for you, +too,” she added, turning to the Englishman. “You played a great game.” + +“Did I not? I was at the top of my form,” said the Englishman gallantly. +“But all in vain, as you see.” + +“Now for the final,” cried Frances eagerly. + +“Dear lady,” said Captain Jack, affecting supreme exhaustion, “as you +are mighty, be merciful! Let it suffice that we appear to have given you +an exposition of fairly respectable tennis. I am quite done.” + +“A great win, Jack,” said Adrien, offering her hand in congratulation. + +“All flukes count, eh, Maitland?” laughed Stillwell, unable in spite of +his laugh to keep the bite out of his voice. + +“Fluke?” exclaimed the Englishman in a slow drawling voice. “I call it +ripping good tennis, if I am a judge.” + +A murmur of approval ran through the company, crowding about with +congratulations to both players. + +“Oh, of course, of course,” said Stillwell, noting the criticism of +his unsportsmanlike remark. “What I mean is, Maitland is clearly out +of condition. If he were not I wouldn't mind taking him on myself,” he +added with another laugh. + +“Now, do you mean?” said Captain Jack lazily. + +“We will wait till the match is played out,” said Stillwell with easy +confidence. “Some other day, when you are in shape, eh?” he added, +smiling at Maitland. + +“Now if you like, or after the match, or any old time,” said Captain +Jack, looking at Stillwell with hard grey, unsmiling eyes. “I understand +you have come up on your game during the war.” + +Stillwell's face burned a furious red at the little laugh that went +round among Captain Jack's friends. + +“Frankly, I have had enough for to-day,” said the Englishman to Jack. + +“All right, old chap, if you don't really mind. Though I feel you would +certainly take the odd set.” + +“Not a bit of it, by Jove. I am quite satisfied to let it go at that. We +will have another go some time.” + +“Any time that suits you--to-morrow, eh?” + +“To-morrow be it,” said the Englishman. + +“Now, then, Stillwell,” said Captain Jack, with a curt nod at him. +“Whenever you are ready.” + +“Oh, come, Maitland. I was only joshing, you know. You don't want +to play with me to-day,” said Stillwell, not relishing the look on +Maitland's face. “We can have a set any time.” + +“No!” said Maitland shortly. “It's now or never.” + +“Oh, all right,” said Stillwell, with an uneasy laugh, going into the +Club house for his racquet. + +The proposed match had brought a new atmosphere into the Club house, an +atmosphere of contest with all the fun left out. + +“I don't like this at all,” said a man with iron grey hair and deeply +tanned face. + +“One can't well object, Russell,” said a younger man, evidently a friend +of Stillwell's. “Maitland brought it on, and I hope he gets mighty well +trimmed. He is altogether too high and mighty these days.” + +“Oh, I don't agree with you at all,” broke in Frances, in a voice coldly +proper. “You heard what Mr. Stillwell said?” + +“Well, not exactly.” + +“Ah, I might have guessed you had not,” answered the young lady, turning +away. + +Edwards looked foolishly round upon the circle of men who stood grinning +at him. + +“Now will you be good?” said a youngster who had led the laugh at +Edwards' expense. + +“What the devil are you laughing at, Menzies?” he asked hotly. + +“Why, don't you see the joke?” enquired Menzies innocently. “Well, carry +on! You will to-morrow.” + +Edwards growled out an oath and took himself off. + +Meantime the match was making furious progress, with the fury, it must +be confessed, confined to one side only of the net. Captain Jack was +playing a driving, ruthless game, snatching and employing without mercy +every advantage that he could legitimately claim. He delivered his +service with deadly precision, following up at the net with a smashing +return, which left his opponent helpless. His aggressive tactics gave +his opponent almost no opportunity to score, and he kept the pace +going at the height of his speed. The onlookers were divided in their +sentiments. Stillwell had a strong following of his own who expressed +their feelings by their silence at Jack's brilliant strokes and their +loud approval of Stillwell's good work when he gave them opportunity, +while many of Maitland's friends deprecated his tactics and more +especially his spirit. + +At whirlwind pace Captain Jack made the first three games a “love” + score, leaving his opponent dazed, bewildered with his smashing play and +blind with rage at his contemptuous bearing. + +“I think I must go home, Frances,” said Adrien to her friend, her face +pale, her head carried high. + +Frances seized her by the arm and drew her to one side. + +“Adrien, you must not go! You simply must not!” she said in a low tense +voice. “It will be misunderstood, and--” + +“I am going, Frances,” said her friend in a cold, clear voice. “I have +had enough tennis for this afternoon. Where is Sidney? Ah, there he is +across the court. No! Let me go, Frances!” + +“You simply must not go like that in the middle of a game, Adrien. Wait +at least till this game is over,” said her friend, clutching hard at her +arm. + +“Very well. Let us go to Sidney,” said Adrien. + +Together they made their way round the court almost wholly unobserved, +so intent was the crowd upon the struggle going on before them. As the +game finished Adrien laid her hand upon her cousin's arm. + +“Haven't you had enough of this?” she said. Her voice carried clear +across the court. + +“What d'ye say? By Jove, no!” said her cousin in a joyous voice. “This +is the most cheering thing I've seen for many moons, Adrien. Eh, +what? Oh, I beg pardon, are you seedy?” he added glancing at her. “Oh, +certainly, I'll come at once.” + +“Not at all. Don't think of it. I have a call to make on my way home. +Please don't come.” + +“But, Adrien, I say, this will be over now in a few minutes. Can't you +really wait?” + +“No, I am not in the least interested in this--this kind of tennis,” she +said in a bored voice. + +Her tone, pitched rather higher than usual, carried to the ears of the +players who were changing ends at the moment. Both of the men glanced at +her. Stillwell's face showed swift gratitude. On Jack's face the shadow +darkened but except for a slight straightening of the line of his lips +he gave no sign. + +“You are quite sure you don't care?” said Sidney. “You don't want me? +This really is great, you know.” + +“Not for worlds would I drag you away,” said Adrien in a cool, clear +voice. “Frances will keep you company.” She turned to her friend. “Look +after him, Frances,” she said. “Good-bye. Dinner at seven to-night, you +know.” + +“Right-o!” said Sidney, raising his hat in farewell. “By Jove, I +wouldn't miss this for millions,” he continued, making room for Frances +beside him. “Your young friend is really somewhat violent in his style, +eh, what?” + +“There are times when violence is the only possible thing,” replied +Frances grimly. + +“By the way, who is the victim? I mean, what is he exactly?” + +“Mr. Stillwell? Oh, he is the son of his father, the biggest merchant in +Blackwater. Oh, lovely! Beautiful return! Jack is simply away above his +form! And something of a merchant and financier on his own account, to +be quite fair. Making money fast and using it wisely. But I'm not going +to talk about him. You see a lot of him about the Rectory, don't you?” + +“Well, something,” replied Sidney. “I can't quite understand the +situation, I confess. To be quite frank, I don't cotton much to him. A +bit sweetish, eh, what?” + +“Yes, at the Rectory doubtless. I would hardly attribute to him a sweet +disposition. Oh, quit talking about him. He had flat feet in the war, I +think it was. Jack's twin brother was killed, you know--and mine--well, +you know how mine is.” + +A swift vision of a bright-faced, cheery-voiced soldier, feeling his way +around a darkened room in the Amory home, leaped to Sidney's mind and +overwhelmed him with pity and self-reproach. + +“Dear Miss Frances, will you forgive me? I hadn't quite got on to the +thing. I understand the game better now.” + +“Now, I don't want to poison your mind. I shouldn't have said +that--about the flat feet, I mean. He goes to the Rectory, you know. I +want to be fair--” + +“Please don't worry. We know all about that sort at home,” said Sidney, +touching her hand for a moment. “My word, that was a hot one! The +flat-footed Johnnie is obviously bewildered. The last game was sheer +massacre, eh, what?” + +If Maitland was not in form there was no sign of it in his work on the +court. There was little of courtesy, less of fun and nothing at all of +mercy in his play. From first to last and without reprieve he drove +his game ruthlessly to a finish. So terrific, so resistless were his +attacks, so coldly relentless the spirit he showed, ignoring utterly all +attempts at friendly exchange of courtesy, that the unhappy and enraged +Stillwell, becoming utterly demoralized, lost his nerve, lost his +control and hopelessly lost every chance he ever possessed of winning a +single game of the set which closed with the score six to nothing. + +At the conclusion of the set Stillwell, with no pretense of explanation +or apology, left the courts to his enemy who stood waiting his +appearance in a silence so oppressive that it seemed to rest like a +pall upon the side lines. So overwhelming was Stillwell's defeat, so +humiliating his exhibition of total collapse of morale that the company +received the result with but slight manifestation of feeling. Without +any show of sympathy even his friends slipped away, as if unwilling to +add to his humiliation by their commiseration. On the other side, the +congratulations offered Maitland were for the most part lacking in the +spontaneity that is supposed to be proper to such a smashing victory. +Some of his friends seemed to feel as if they had been called upon to +witness an unworthy thing. Not so, however, with either Frances Amory or +Sidney Templeton. Both greeted Captain Jack with enthusiasm and warmth, +openly and freely rejoicing in his victory. + +“By Jove, Maitland, that was tremendous, appalling, eh, what?” + +“I meant it to be so,” said Maitland grimly, “else I should not have +played with him.” + +“It was coming to him,” said Frances. “I am simply completely +delighted.” + +“Can I give you a lift home, Frances?” said Maitland. “Let us get away. +You, too, Templeton,” he added to Sidney, who was lingering near the +young lady in obvious unwillingness to leave her side. + +“Oh, thanks! Sure you have room?” he said. “All right. You know my +cousin left me in your care.” + +“Oh, indeed! Well, come along then, since our hero is so good. Really, I +am uplifted to quite an unusual height of glorious exultation.” + +“Don't rub it in, Frank,” said Jack gloomily. “I made an ass of myself, +I know quite well.” + +“What rot, Jack. Every one of your friends was tickled to death.” + +“Adrien, for instance, eh?” said Jack with a bitter little laugh, taking +his place at the wheel. + +“Oh, Adrien!” replied Frances. “Well, you know Adrien! She is--just +Adrien.” + +As he turned into the street there was a sound of rushing feet. + +“Hello, Captain Jack! Oh, Captain Jack! Wait for me! You have room, +haven't you?” + +A whirlwind of flashing legs and windblown masses of gold-red hair, +which realised itself into a young girl of about sixteen, bore down on +the car. It was Adrien's younger sister, Patricia, and at once her pride +and her terror. + +“Why, Patsy, where on earth did you come from? Of course! Get in! Glad +to have you, old chap.” + +“Oh, Captain Jack, what a game! What a wonderful game! And Rupert has +been playing all summer and awfully well! And you have hardly played a +game! I was awfully pleased--” + +“Were you? I'm not sure that I was,” replied Captain Jack. + +“Well, you WERE savage, you know. You looked as if you were in a fight.” + +“Did I? That was very rotten of me, wasn't it?” + +“Oh, I don't know exactly. But it was a wonderful game. Of course, one +doesn't play tennis like a fight, I suppose.” + +“No! You are quite right, Pat,” replied Captain Jack. “You see, I'm +afraid I lost my temper a bit, which is horribly bad form I know, +and--well, I wanted to fight rather than play, and of course one +couldn't fight on the tennis court in the presence of a lot of ladies, +you see.” + +“Well, I'm glad you didn't fight, Captain Jack. You have had enough of +fighting, haven't you? And Rupert is really very nice, you know. He has +a wonderful car and he lets me drive it, and he always brings a box of +chocolates every time he comes.” + +“He must be perfectly lovely,” said Captain Jack, with a grin at her. + +The girl laughed a laugh of such infectious jollity that Captain Jack +was forced to join with her. + +“That's one for you, Captain Jack,” she cried. “I know I am a pig where +chocs are concerned, and I do love to drive a car. But, really, Rupert +is quite nice. He is so funny. He makes Mamma laugh. Though he does +tease me a lot.” + +Captain Jack drove on in silence for some moments. + +“I was glad to see you playing though to-day, Captain Jack.” + +“Where were you? I didn't see you anywhere.” + +“Not likely!” She glanced behind her at the others in the back seat. She +need not have given them a thought, they were too deeply engrossed to +heed her. “Do you know where I was? In the crutch of the big elm--you +know!” + +“Don't I!” said Captain Jack. “A splendid seat, but--” + +“Wouldn't Adrien be shocked?” said the girl, with a deliciously +mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Or, at least, she would pretend to be. +Adrien thinks she must train me down a bit, you know. She says I have +most awful manners. She wants Mamma to send me over to England to her +school. But I don't want to go, you bet. Besides, I don't think Dad can +afford it so they can't send me. Anyway, I could have good manners if +I wanted to. I could act just like Adrien if I wanted to--I mean, for a +while. But that was a real game. I felt sorry for Rupert, a little. You +see, he didn't seem to know what to do or how to begin. And you looked +so terrible! Now in the game with Cousin Sidney you were so different, +and you played so awfully well, too, but differently. Somehow, it was +just like gentlemen playing, you know--” + +“You have hit it, Patsy,--a regular bull!” said Captain Jack. + +“Oh, I don't mean--” began the girl in confusion, rare with her. + +“Yes, you do, Pat. Stick to your guns.” + +“Well, I will. The first game everybody loved to watch. The second +game--somehow it made me wish Rupert had been a Hun. I'd have loved it +then.” + +“By Jove, Patsy, you're right on the target. You've scored again.” + +“Oh, I'm not saying just what I want--but I hope you know what I mean.” + +“Your meaning hits me right in the eye. And you are quite right. +The tennis court is no place for a fight, eh? And, after all, Rupert +Stillwell is no Hun.” + +“But you haven't been playing this summer at all, Captain Jack,” said +the girl, changing the subject. “Why not?” The girl's tone was quite +severe. “And you don't do a lot of things you used to do, and you don't +go to places, and you are different.” The blue eyes earnestly searched +his face. + +“Am I different?” he asked slowly. “Well, everybody is different. And +then, you know, I am busy. A business man has his hours and he must +stick to them.” + +“Oh, I don't believe you a bit. You don't need to be down at the mills +all the time. Look at Rupert. He doesn't need to be at his father's +office.” + +“Apparently not.” + +“He gets off whenever he wants to.” + +“Looks like it.” + +“And why can't you?” + +“Well, you see, I am not Rupert,” said Captain Jack, grinning at her. + +“Now you are horrible. Why don't you do as you used to do? You know you +could if you wanted to.” + +“Yes, I suppose, if I wanted to,” said Captain Jack, suddenly grave. + +“You don't want to,” said the girl, quick to catch his mood. + +“Well, you know, Patsy dear, things are different, and I suppose I am +too. I don't care much for a lot of things.” + +“You just look as if you didn't care for anything or anybody sometimes, +Captain Jack,” said Patricia quietly. Then after a few moments she burst +forth: “Oh, don't you remember your hockey team? Oh! oh! oh! I used to +sit and just hold my heart from jumping. It nearly used to choke me when +you would tear down the ice with the puck.” + +“That was long ago, Pat dear. I guess I was--ah--very young then, eh?” + +“Yes, I know,” nodded the girl. “I feel the same way--I was just a kid +then.” + +“Ah, yes,” said Captain Jack, with never a smile. “You were just--let's +see--twelve, was it?” + +“Yes, twelve. And I felt just a kid.” + +“And now?” Captain Jack's voice was quite grave. + +“Now? Well, I am not exactly a kid. At least, not the same kind of kid. +And, as you say, a lot of things are different. I think I know how you +feel. I was like that, too--after--after--Herbert--” The girl paused, +with her lips quivering. “It was all different--so different. Everything +we used to do, I didn't feel like doing. And I suppose that's the way +with you, Captain Jack, with Andy--and then your Mother, too.” She +leaned close to him and put her hand timidly on his arm. + +Captain Jack, sitting up very straight and looking very grave, felt the +thrill of the timid touch run through his very heart. A rush of warm, +tender emotion such as he had not allowed himself for many months +suddenly surprised him, filling his eyes and choking his throat. Since +his return from the war he had without knowledge been yearning for just +such an understanding touch as this child with her womanly instinct +had given him. He withdrew one hand from the wheel and took the warm +clinging fingers tight in his and waited in silence till he was sure of +himself. He drove some blocks before he was quite master of his voice. +Then, releasing the fingers, he turned his face toward the girl. + +“You are a real pal, aren't you, Patsy old girl?” he said with a very +bright smile at her. + +“I want to be! Oh, I would love to be!” she said, with a swift intake of +breath. “And after a while you will be just as you were before you went +away.” + +“Hardly, I fear, Patsy.” + +“Well, not the same, but different from what you are now. No, I don't +mean that a bit, Captain Jack. But perhaps you know--I do want to see +you on the ice again. Oh, it would be wonderful! Of course, the old team +wouldn't be there--Herbert and Phil and Andy. Why! You are the only +one left! And Rupert.” She added the name doubtfully. “It WOULD be +different! oh, so different! Oh! I don't wonder you don't care, Captain +Jack. I won't wonder--” There was a little choke in the young voice. “I +see it now--” + +“I think you understand, Patsy, and you are a little brick,” said +Captain Jack in a low, hurried tone. “And I am going to try. Anyway, +whatever happens, we will be pals.” + +The girl caught his arm tight in her clasped hands and in a low voice +she said, “Always and always, Captain Jack, and evermore.” And till they +drew up at the Rectory door no more was said. + +Maitland drove homeward through the mellow autumn evening with a warmer, +kindlier glow in his heart than he had known through all the dreary +weeks that had followed his return from the war. For the war had wrought +desolation for him in a home once rich in the things that make life +worth while, by taking from it his mother, whose rare soul qualities had +won and held through her life the love, the passionate, adoring love +of her sons, and his twin brother, the comrade, chum, friend of all his +days, with whose life his own had grown into a complete and ideal +unity, deprived of whom his life was left like a body from whose raw and +quivering flesh one-half had been torn away. + +The war had left his life otherwise bruised and maimed in ways known +only to himself. + +Returning thus from his soul-devastating experience of war to find +his life desolate and maimed in all that gave it value, he made the +appalling discovery that he was left almost alone of all whom he had +known and loved in past days. For of his close friends none were left +as before. For the most part they were lying on one or other of the five +battle fronts of the war. Others had found service in other spheres. +Only one was still in his home town, poor old Phil Amory, Frances' +brother, half-blind in his darkened room, but to bring anything of his +own heart burden to that brave soul seemed sacrilege or worse. True +enough, he was passing through the new and thrilling experience of +making acquaintance with his father. But old Grant Maitland was a hard +man to know, and they were too much alike in their reserve and in their +poverty of self-expression to make mutual acquaintance anything but a +slow and in some ways a painful process. + +Hence in Maitland's heart there was an almost extravagant gratitude +toward this young generous-hearted girl whose touch had thrilled +his heart and whose voice with its passionate note of loyal and +understanding comradeship still sang like music in his soul, “Always and +always, Captain Jack, and evermore.” + +“By Jove, I have got to find some way of playing up to that,” he said +aloud, as he turned from the gravelled driveway into the street. And in +the months that followed he was to find that the search to which he then +committed himself was to call for the utmost of the powers of soul which +were his. + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE COST OF SACRIFICE + + +Perrotte was by all odds the best all-round man in the planing mill, and +for the simple reason that for fifteen years he had followed the lumber +from the raw wood through the various machines till he knew woods and +machines and their ways as no other in the mill unless it was old Grant +Maitland himself. Fifteen years ago Perrotte had drifted down from the +woods, beating his way on a lumber train, having left his winter's pay +behind him at the verge of civilisation, with old Joe Barbeau and Joe's +“chucker out.” It was the “chucker out” that dragged him out of the +“snake room” and, all unwitting, had given him a flying start toward a +better life. Perrotte came to Maitland when the season's work was at its +height and every saw and planer were roaring night and day. + +“Want a job?” Maitland had shouted over the tearing saw at him. “What +can you do?” + +“(H)axe-man me,” growled Perrotte, looking up at him, half wistful, half +sullen. + +“See that slab? Grab it, pile it yonder. The boards, slide over the +shoot.” For these were still primitive days for labor-saving devices, +and men were still the cheapest thing about a mill. + +Perrotte grabbed the slab, heaved it down to its pile of waste, the next +board he slid into the shoot, and so continued till noon found him pale +and staggering. + +“What's the matter with you?” said Maitland. + +“Notting--me bon,” said Perrotte, and, clutching at the door jamb, hung +there gasping. + +Maitland's keen blue eyes searched his face. “Huh! When did you last +eat? Come! No lying!” + +“Two day,” said Perrotte, fighting for breath and nerve. + +“Here, boy,” shouted Maitland to a chore lad slouching by, “jump for +that cook house and fetch a cup of coffee, and be quick.” + +The boss' tone injected energy into the gawky lad. In three minutes +Perrotte was seated on a pile of slabs, drinking a cup of coffee; in +five minutes more he stood up, ready for “(h)anny man, (h)anny ting.” + But Maitland took him to the cook. + +“Fill this man up,” he said, “and then show him where to sleep. And, +Perrotte, to-morrow morning at seven you be at the tail of the saw.” + +“Oui, by gar! Perrotte be dere. And you got one good man TOO-day, for +sure.” + +That was fifteen years ago, and, barring certain “jubilations,” Perrotte +made good his prophecy. He brought up from the Ottawa his Irish wife, +a clever woman with her tongue but a housekeeper that scandalised her +thrifty, tidy, French-Canadian mother-in-law, and his two children, a +boy and a girl. Under the supervision of his boss he made for his family +a home and for himself an assured place in the Blackwater Mills. His +children fell into the hands of a teacher with a true vocation for his +great work and a passion for young life. Under his hand the youth of +the rapidly growing mill village were saved from the sordid and +soul-debasing influences of their environment, were led out of the muddy +streets and can-strewn back yards to those far heights where dwell the +high gods of poesy and romance. From the master, too, they learned to +know their own wonderful woods out of which the near-by farms had been +hewn. Many a home, too, owed its bookshelf to Alex Day's unobtrusive +suggestions. + +The Perrotte children were prepared for High School by the master's +quiet but determined persistence. To the father he held up the +utilitarian advantages of an education. + +“Your boy is quick--why should not Tony be a master of men some day? +Give him a chance to climb.” + +“Oui, by gar! Antoine he's smart lee'le feller. I mak him steeck on his +book, you mak him one big boss on some mill.” + +To the mother the master spoke of social advantages. The empty-headed +Irish woman who had all the quick wit and cleverness of tongue +characteristic of her race was determined that her girl Annette should +learn to be as stylish as “them that tho't themselves her betters.” So +the children were kept at school by their fondly ambitious parents, and +the master did the rest. + +At the Public School, that greatest of all democratic institutions, the +Perrotte children met the town youth of their own age, giving and taking +on equal terms, sharing common privileges and advantages and growing +into a community solidarity all their own, which in later years brought +its own harvest of mingling joy and bitterness, but which on the whole +made for sound manhood and womanhood. + +With the girl Annette one effect of the Public School and its +influences, educational and social, was to reveal to her the depth of +the educational and social pit from which she had been taken. Her High +School training might have fitted her for the teaching profession +and completed her social emancipation but for her vain and thriftless +mother, who, socially ambitious for herself but more for her handsome, +clever children, found herself increasingly embarrassed for funds. She +lacked the means with which to suitably adorn herself and her children +for the station in life to which she aspired and for which good clothes +were the prime equipment and to “eddicate” Tony as he deserved. Hence +when Annette had completed her second year at the High School her mother +withdrew her from the school and its associations and found her a place +in the new Fancy Box Factory, where girls could obtain “an illigant and +refoined job with good pay as well.” + +This change in Annette's outlook brought wrathful disappointment to the +head master, Alex Day, who had taken a very special pride in Annette's +brilliant school career and who had outlined for her a University +course. To Annette herself the ending of her school days was a bitter +grief, the bitterness of which would have been greatly intensified had +she been able to measure the magnitude of the change to be wrought in +her life by her mother's foolish vanity and unwise preference of her +son's to her daughter's future. + +The determining factor in Annette's submission to her mother's will was +consideration for her brother and his career. For while for her father +she cherished an affectionate pride and for her mother an amused and +protective pity, her great passion was for her brother--her handsome, +vivacious, audacious and mercurial brother, Tony. With him she counted +it only joy to share her all too meagre wages whenever he found himself +in financial straits. And a not infrequent situation this was with Tony, +who, while he seemed to have inherited from his mother the vivacity, +quick wit and general empty-headedness, from his father got nothing of +the thrift and patient endurance of grinding toil characteristic of the +French-Canadian habitant. But he did get from his father a capacity for +the knowing and handling of machinery, which amounted almost to genius. +Of the father's steadiness under the grind of daily work which had made +him the head mechanic in the Mill, Tony possessed not a tittle. What +he could get easily he got, and getting this fancied himself richly +endowed, knowing not how slight and superficial is the equipment for +life's stern fight that comes without sweat of brain and body. His +cleverness deceived first himself and then his family, who united in +believing him to be destined for high place and great things. Only +two of those who had to do with him in his boyhood weighed him in the +balance of truth. One was his Public School master, who labored with +incessant and painful care to awaken in him some glimmer of the need of +preparation for that bitter fight to which every man is appointed. The +other was Grant Maitland, whose knowledge of men and of life, gained at +cost of desperate conflict, made the youth's soul an open book to him. +Recognising the boy's aptitude, he had in holiday seasons set Tony +behind the machines in his planing mill, determined for his father's +sake to make of him a mechanical engineer. To Tony each new machine was +a toy to be played with; in a week or two he had mastered it and +grown weary of it. Thenceforth he slacked at his work and became a +demoralizing influence in his department, a source of anxiety to his +steady-going father, a plague to his employer, till the holiday time was +done. + +“Were you my son, my lad, I'd soon settle you,” Grant Maitland would +say, when the boy was ready to go back to his school. “You will make a +mess of your life unless you can learn to stick at your job. The roads +are full of clever tramps, remember that, my boy.” + +But Tony only smiled his brilliant smile at him, as he took his pay +envelope, which burned a hole in his pocket till he had done with it. +When the next holiday came round Tony would present himself for a job +with Jack Maitland to plead for him. For to Tony Jack was as king, to +whom he gave passionate loyalty without stint or measure. And thus for +his son Jack's sake, Jack's father took Tony on again, resolved to make +another effort to make something out of him. + +The bond between the two boys was hard to analyse. In games at Public +and High School Jack was always Captain and Tony his right-hand man, +held to his place and his training partly by his admiring devotion to +his Captain but more by a wholesome dread of the inexorable disciplinary +measures which slackness or trifling with the rules of the game would +inevitably bring him. Jack Maitland was the one being in Tony's +world who could put lasting fear into his soul or steadiness into his +practice. But even Jack at times failed. + +Then when both were eighteen they went to the War, Jack as an Officer, +Tony as a Non-Commissioned Officer in the same Battalion, Jack hating +the bloody business but resolute to play this great game of duty as he +played all games for all that was in him, Tony aglow at first with the +movement and glitter and later mad with the lust for deadly daring +that was native to his Keltic Gallic soul. They returned with their +respective decorations of D. S. O. and Military Medal and each with the +stamp of war cut deep upon him, in keeping with the quality of his soul. + +The return to peace was to them, as to the thousands of their comrades +to whom it was given to return, a shock almost as great as had been the +adventure of war. In a single day while still amid the scenes and +with all the paraphernalia of war about them an unreal and bewildering +silence had fallen on them. Like men in the unearthly realities of a +dream they moved through their routine duties, waiting for the orders +that would bring that well-known, sickening, savage tightening of their +courage and send them, laden like beasts of burden, up once more to that +hell of blood and mud, of nerve-shattering shell, of blinding glare and +ear-bursting roar of gun fire, and, worse than all, to the place where, +crouching in the farcical deceptive shelter of the sandbagged trench, +their fingers gripping into the steel of their rifle hands, they would +wait for the zero hour. But as the weeks passed and the orders failed to +come they passed from that bewildering and subconscious anxious waiting, +to an experience of wildly exultant, hysterical abandonment. They were +done with all that long horror and terror; they were never to go back +into it again; they were going back home; the New Day had dawned; war +was no more, nor ever would be again. Back to home, to waiting hearts, +to shining eyes, to welcoming arms, to peace, they were going. + +Thereafter, when some weeks of peace had passed and the drums of peace +had fallen quiet and the rushing, crowding, hurrahing people had melted +away, and the streets and roads were filled again with men and women +bent on business, with engagements to keep, the returned men found +themselves with dazed, listless mind waiting for orders from someone, +somewhere, or for the next movie show to open. But they were unwilling +to take on the humdrum of making a living, and were in most cases +incapable of initiating a congenial method of employing their powers, +their new-found, splendid, glorious powers, by means of which they had +saved an empire and a world. They had become common men again, they in +whose souls but a few weeks ago had flamed the glory and splendour of a +divine heroism! + +Small wonder that some of these men, tingling with the consciousness of +powers of which these busy, engaged people of the streets and shops +knew nothing, turned with disdain from the petty, paltry, many of them +non-manly tasks that men pursued solely that they might live. Live! For +these last terrible, great and glorious fifty months they had schooled +themselves to the notion that the main business of life was not to live. +There had been for them a thing to do infinitely more worth while than +to live. Indeed, had they been determined at all costs to live, then +they had become to themselves, to their comrades, and indeed to all the +world, the most despicable of all living things, deserving and winning +the infinite contempt of all true men. + +While the “gratuity money” lasted life went merrily enough, but when +the last cheque had been cashed, and the grim reality that rations had +ceased and Q. M. Stores were not longer available thrust itself vividly +into the face of the demobilised veteran, and when after experiencing +in job hunting varying degrees of humiliation the same veteran made +the startling and painful discovery that for his wares of heroic +self-immolation, of dogged endurance done up in khaki, there was no +demand in the bloodless but none the less strenuous conflict of living; +and that other discovery, more disconcerting, that he was not the man +he had been in pre-war days and thought himself still to be, but quite +another, then he was ready for one of two alternatives, to surrender to +the inevitable dictum that after all life was really not worth a fight, +more particularly if it could be sustained without one, or, to fling his +hat into the Bolshevist ring, ready for the old thing, war--war against +the enemies of civilisation and his own enemies, against those +who possessed things which he very much desired but which for some +inexplicable cause he was prevented from obtaining. + +The former class, to a greater or less degree, Jack Maitland +represented; the latter, Tony Perrotte. From their war experience they +were now knit together in bonds that ran into life issues. Together +they had faced war's ultimate horror, together they had emerged with +imperishable memories of sheer heroic manhood mutually revealed in hours +of desperate need. + +At Jack's request Tony had been given the position of a Junior Foreman +in one of the planing mill departments, with the promise of advancement. + +“You can have anything you are fit for, Tony, in any of the mills. I +feel that I owe you, that we both owe you more than we can pay by any +position we can offer,” was Grant Maitland's word. + +“Mr. Maitland, neither you nor Jack owes me anything. Jack has paid, and +more than once, all he owed me. But,” with a rueful smile, “don't expect +too much from me in this job. I can't see myself making it go.” + +“Give it a big try. Do your best. I ask no more,” said Mr. Maitland. + +“My best? That's a hard thing. Give me a bayonet and set some Huns +before me, and I'll do my best. This is different somehow.” + +“Different, yet the same. The same qualities make for success. You have +the brains and with your gift for machinery--Well, try it. You and Jack +here will make this go between you, as you made the other go.” + +The door closed on the young man. + +“Will he make good, Jack?” said the father, anxiously. + +“Will any of us make good?” + +“You will, Jack, I know. You can stick.” + +“Yes, I can stick, I suppose, but, after all--well, we'll have a go +at it, anyway. But, like Tony, I feel like saying, 'Don't expect too +much.'” + +“Only your best, Jack, that's all. Take three months, six months, a +year, and get hold of the office end of the business. You have brains +enough. I want a General Manager right now, Wickes is hardly up to it. +He knows the books and he knows the works but he knows nothing else. He +doesn't know men nor markets. He is an office man pure and simple, and +he's old, too old. The fact is, Jack, I have to be my own Manager inside +and outside. My foremen are good, loyal, reliable fellows, but they only +know their orders. I want someone to stand beside me. The plant has been +doubled in capacity during the war. We did a lot of war work--aeroplane +parts. We got the spruce in the raw and worked it up, good work, too, if +I do say it myself. No better was done.” + +“I know something about that, Dad. I had a day with Badgley in Toronto. +I know something about it, and I know where the money went, too, Dad.” + +“The money? Of course, I couldn't take the money--how could I with my +boys at the war, and other men's boys?” + +“Rather not. My God, Dad, if I thought--! But what's the use talking? +They know in London all about the Ambulance Equipment and the Machine +Gun Battery, and the Hospital. Do you know why Caramus took a job in +the Permanent Force in England? It was either that or blowing out his +brains. He could not face his father, a war millionaire. My God, how +could he?” + +The boy was walking about his room with face white and lips quivering. + +“Caramus was in charge of that Machine Gun Section that held the line +and let us get back. Every man wiped out, and Caramus carried back +smashed to small pieces--and his father making a million out of +munitions! My God! My God!” + +A silence fell in the room for a minute. + +“Poor old Caramus! I saw him in the City a month ago,” said the father. +“I pitied the poor wretch. He was alone in the Club, not a soul would +speak to him. He has got his hell.” + +“He deserves it--all of it, and all who like him have got fat on blood +money. Do you know, Dad, when I see those men going about in the open +and no one kicking them I get fairly sick. I don't wonder at some of the +boys seeing red. You mark my words, we are going to have bad times in +this country before long.” + +“I am afraid of it, boy. Things look ugly. Even in our own works I feel +a bad spirit about. There are some newcomers from the old country whom I +can't say I admire much. They grouch and they won't work. Our production +is lower than ever in our history and our labor cost is more than twice +what it was in 1914.” + +“Well, Dad, give them a little time to settle down. I have no more use +for a slacker than I have for a war millionaire.” + +“We can't stand much of that thing. Financially we are in fairly good +shape. We broke even with our aeroplane work. But we have a big stock +of spruce on hand--high-priced stuff, too--and a heavy, very heavy +overhead. We shall weather it all right. I don't mind the wages, but we +must have production. And that's why I want you with me.” + +“You must not depend on me for much use for some time at least. I know a +little about handling men but about machinery I know nothing.” + +“Never fear, boy, you've got the machine instinct in you. I remember +your holiday work in the mill, you see. But your place is in the office. +Wickes will show you the ropes, and you will make good, I know. And I +just want to say that you don't know how glad I am to have you come in +with me, Jack. If your brother had come back he would have taken hold, +he was cut out for the job, but--” + +“Poor old Andy! He had your genius for the business. I wish he had been +the one to get back!” + +“We had not the choosing, Jack, and if he had come we should have felt +the same about you. God knows what He is doing, and we can only do our +best.” + +“Well, Dad,” said Jack, rising and standing near his father's chair, “as +I said before, I'll make a go at it, but don't count too much on me.” + +“I am counting a lot on you. You are all I have now.” The father's +voice ended in a husky whisper. The boy swallowed the rising lump in +his throat but could find no more words to go on with. But in his heart +there was the resolve that he would make an honest try to do for his +father's sake what he would not for his own. + +But before a month had gone he was heartily sick of the office. It was +indoors, and the petty fussing with trivial details irked him. Accuracy +was a sine qua non of successful office work, and accuracy is either a +thing of natural gift or is the result of long and painful discipline, +and neither by nature nor by discipline had Jack come into the +possession of this prime qualification for a successful office man. His +ledger wellnigh brought tears to old Wickes' eyes and added a heavy load +to his day's work. Not that old Wickes grudged the extra burden, much +less made any complaint; rather did he count it joy to be able to cover +from other eyes than his own the errors that were inevitably to be found +in Jack's daily work. + +Had it seemed worth while, Jack would have disciplined himself to +accuracy. But what was the end of it all? A larger plant with more +machines to buy and more men to work them and to be overseen and to be +paid, a few more figures in a Bank Book--what else? Jack's tastes were +simple. He despised the ostentation of wealth in the accumulation of +mere things. He had only pity for the plunger and for the loose liver +contempt. Why should he tie himself to a desk, a well appointed desk it +is true, but still a desk, in a four-walled room, a much finer room than +his father had ever known, but a room which became to him a cage. +Why? Of course, there was his father--and Jack wearily turned to his +correspondence basket, sick of the sight of paper and letter heads and +cost forms and production reports. For his father's sake, who had only +him, he would carry on. And carry on he did, doggedly, wearily, bored to +death, but sticking it. The reports from the works were often ominous. +Things were not going well. There was an undercurrent of unrest among +the men. + +“I don't wonder at it,” said Jack to old Wickes one day, when the +bookkeeper set before him the week's pay sheet and production sheet, +side by side. “After all, why should the poor devils work for us?” + +“For us, sir?” said the shocked Wickes. “For themselves, surely. What +would they do for a living if there was no work?” + +“That's just it, Wickes. They get a living--is it worth while?” + +“But, sir,” gasped the old man, “they must live, and--” + +“Why must they?” + +“Because they want to! Wait till you see 'em sick, sir. My word! They do +make haste for the Doctor.” + +“I fancy they do, Wickes. But all the same, I don't wonder that they +grouch a bit.” + +“'Tis not the grumbling, sir, I deplore,” said Wickes, “if they would +only work, or let the machines work. That's the trouble, sir. Why, sir, +when I came to your father, sir, we never looked at the clock, we kept +our minds on the work.” + +“How long ago, Wickes?” + +“Thirty-one years, sir, come next Michaelmas. And glad I was to get the +job, too. You see, sir, I had just come to the country, and with the +missus and a couple of kids--” + +“Thirty-one years! Great Caesar! And you've worked at this desk for +thirty-one years! And what have you got out of it?” + +“Well, sir, not what you might call a terrible lot. I hadn't the +eddication for much, as you might say--but--well, there's my little +home, and we've lived happy there, the missus and me, and the kids--at +least, till the war came.” The old man paused abruptly. + +“You're right, Wickes, by Jove,” exclaimed Jack, starting from his seat +and gripping the old man's hand. “You have made a lot out of it--and you +gave as fine a boy as ever stepped in uniform to your country. We were +all proud of Stephen, every man of us.” + +“I know that, sir, and he often wrote the wife about you, sir, which we +don't forget, sir. Of course, it's hard on her and the boys--just coming +up to be somethin' at the school.” + +“By the way, Wickes, how are they doing? Two of them, aren't there? +Let's see--there's Steve, he's the eldest--” + +“No, sir, he's the youngest, sir. Robert is the eldest--fourteen, and +quite clever at his books. Pity he's got to quit just now.” + +“Quit? Not a bit of it. We must see to that. And little Steve--how is +the back?” + +“He's twelve. The back hurts a lot, but he is happy enough, if you give +him a pencil. They're all with us now.” + +“Ah, well, well. I think you have made something out of it after all, +Wickes. And we must see about Robert.” + +Thirty-one years at the desk! And to show for it a home for his wife and +himself, a daughter in a home of her own, a son dead for his country, +leaving behind him a wife and two lads to carry the name--was it worth +while? Yes, by Jove, it was worth it all to be able to give a man like +Stephen Wickes to his country. For Stephen Wickes was a fine stalwart +lad, a good soldier, steady as a rock, with a patient, cheery courage +that nothing could daunt or break. But for a man's self was it worth +while? + +Jack had no thought of wife and family. There was Adrien. She had been a +great pal before the war, but since his return she had seemed different. +Everyone seemed different. The war had left many gaps, former pals had +formed other ties, many had gone from the town. Even Adrien had drifted +away from the old currents of life. She seemed to have taken up with +young Stillwell, whom Jack couldn't abide. Stillwell had been turned +down by the Recruiting Officer during the war--flat feet, or something. +True, he had done great service in Red Cross, Patriotic Fund, Victory +Loan work, and that sort of thing, and apparently stood high in the +Community. His father had doubled the size of his store and had been a +great force in all public war work. He had spared neither himself nor +his son. The elder Stillwell, high up in the Provincial Political world, +saw to it that his son was on all the big Provincial War Committees. +Rupert had all the shrewd foresight and business ability of his father, +which was saying a good deal. He began to assume the role of a promising +young capitalist. The sources of his income no one knew--fortunate +investments, people said. And his Hudson Six stood at the Rectory gate +every day. Well, not even for Adrien would Jack have changed places with +Rupert Stillwell. For Jack Maitland held the extreme and, in certain +circles, unpopular creed that the citizen who came richer out of a war +which had left his country submerged in debt, and which had drained away +its best blood and left it poorer in its manhood by well-nigh seventy +thousand of its noblest youth left upon the battlefields of the various +war fronts and by the hundreds of thousands who would go through life +a burden to themselves and to those to whom they should have been a +support--that citizen was accursed. If Adrien chose to be a friend +of such a man, by that choice she classified herself as impossible of +friendship for Jack. It had hurt a bit. But what was one hurt more or +less to one whom the war had left numb in heart and bereft of ambition? +He was not going to pity himself. He was lucky indeed to have his body +and nerve still sound and whole, but they need not expect him to show +any great keenness in the chase for a few more thousands that would only +rank him among those for whom the war had not done so badly. Meantime, +for his father's sake, who, thank God, had given his best, his heart's +best and the best of his brain and of his splendid business genius +to his country, he would carry on, with no other reward than that of +service rendered. + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE HEATHEN QUEST + + +They stood together by the open fire in the study, Jack and his father, +alike in many ways yet producing effects very different. The younger man +had the physical makeup of the older, though of a slighter mould. +They had the same high, proud look of conscious strength, of cool +fearlessness that nothing could fluster. But the soul that looked out of +the grey eyes of the son was quite another from that which looked out of +the deep blue eyes of the father--yet, after all, the difference may not +have been in essence but only that the older man's soul had learned in +life's experience to look out only through a veil. + +The soul of the youth was eager, adventurous, still believing, yet +with a certain questioning and a touch of weariness, a result of the +aftermath of peace following three years of war. There was still, +however, the out-looking for far horizons, the outreaching imagination, +the Heaven given expectation of the Infinite. In the older man's eye +dwelt chiefly reserve. The veil was always there except when he found it +wise and useful to draw it aside. If ever the inner light flamed +forth it was when the man so chose. Self-mastery, shrewdness, power, +knowledge, lay in the dark blue eyes, and all at the soul's command. + +But to-night as the father's eyes rested upon his son who stood gazing +into and through the blazing fire there were to be seen only pride and +wistful love. But as the son turned his eyes toward his father the veil +fell and the eyes that answered were quiet, shrewd, keen and chiefly +kind. + +The talk had passed beyond the commonplace of the day's doings. They +were among the big things, the fateful thing--Life and Its Worth, Work +and Its Wages, Creative Industry and Its Product, Capital and Its Price, +Man and His Rights. + +They were frank with each other. The war had done that for them. For +ever since the night when his eighteen-year-old boy had walked into his +den and said, “Father, I am eighteen,” and stood looking into his eyes +and waiting for the word that came straight and unhesitating, “I know, +boy, you are my son and you must go, for I cannot,” ever since that +night, which seemed now to belong to another age, these two had faced +each other as men. Now they were talking about the young man's life +work. + +“Frankly, I don't like it, Dad,” said the son. + +“Easy to see that, Jack.” + +“I'm really sorry. I'm afraid anyone can see it. But somehow I can't put +much pep into it.” + +“Why?” asked the father, with curt abruptness. + +“Why? Well, I hardly know. Somehow it hardly seems worth while. It is +not the grind of the office, though that is considerable. I could stick +that, but, after all, what's the use?” + +“What would you rather do, Jack?” enquired his father patiently, as if +talking to a child. “You tried for the medical profession, you know, +and--” + +“I know, I know, you are quite right about it. You may think it pure +laziness. Maybe it is, but I hardly think so. Perhaps I went back to +lectures too soon after the war. I was hardly fit, I guess, and the +whole thing, the inside life, the infernal grind of lectures, the +idiotic serious mummery of the youngsters, those blessed kids who should +have been spanked by their mothers--the whole thing sickened me in three +months. If I had waited perhaps I might have done better at the thing. I +don't know--hard to tell.” The boy paused, looking into the fire. + +“It was my fault, boy,” said the father hastily. “I ought to have +figured the thing out differently. But, you see, I had no knowledge of +what you had gone through and of its effect upon you. I know better now. +I thought that the harder you went into the work the better it would be +for you. I made a mistake.” + +“Well, you couldn't tell, Dad. How could you? But everything was so +different when I came back. Mere kids were carrying on where we had +been, and doing it well, too, by Jove, and we didn't seem to be needed.” + +“Needed, boy?” The father's voice was thick. + +“Yes, but I didn't see that then. Selfish, I fear. Then, you know, home +was not the same--” + +The older man choked back a groan and leaned hard against the mantel. + +“I know, Dad, I can see now I was selfish--” + +“Selfish? Don't say that, my lad. Selfish? After all you had gone +through? No, I shall never apply that word to you, but you--you don't +seem to realise--” The father hesitated a few moments, then, as if +taking a plunge: + +“You don't realise just how big a thing--how big an investment there is +in that business down there--.” His hand swept toward the window through +which could be seen the lights of that part of the town which clustered +about the various mills and factories of which he was owner. + +“I know there is a lot, Dad, but how much I don't know.” + +“There's $250,000 in plant alone, boy, but there's more than money, a +lot more than money--” Then, after a pause, as if to himself, “A lot +more than money--there's brain sweat and heart agony and prayers and +tears--and, yes, life, boy, your mother's life and mine. We worked and +saved and prayed and planned--” + +He stepped quickly toward the window, drew aside the curtain and pointed +to a dark mass of headland beyond the twinkling lights. + +“You see the Bluff there. Fifty years ago I stood with my father on +that Bluff and watched the logs come down the river to the sawmill--his +sawmill, into which he had put his total capital, five hundred dollars. +I remember well his words, 'My son, if you live out your life you will +see on that flat a town where thousands of men and women will find homes +and, please God, happiness.' Your mother and I watched that town grow +for forty years, and we tried to make people happy--at least, if they +were not it was no fault of hers. Of course, other hands have been at +the work since then, but her hands and mine more than any other, and +more than all others together were in it, and her heart, too, was in it +all.” + +The boy turned from the window and sat down heavily in a deep armchair, +his hands covering his face. His heart was still sick with the ache +that had smitten it that day in front of Amiens when the Colonel, +his father's friend, had sent for him and read him the wire which had +brought the terrible message of his mother's death. The long months of +days and nights heavy with watching, toiling, praying, agonising, for +her twin sons, and for the many boys who had gone out from the little +town wore out her none too robust strength. Then, the sniper's bullet +that had pierced the heart of her boy seemed to reach to her heart as +well. After that, the home that once had been to its dwellers the most +completely heart-satisfying spot in all the world became a place of +dread, of haunting ghosts, of acutely poignant memories. They used the +house for sleeping in and for eating in, but there was no living in it +longer. To them it was a tomb, though neither would acknowledge it and +each bore with it for the other's sake. + +“Honestly, Dad, I wish I could make it go, for your sake--” + +“For my sake, boy? Why, I have all of it I care for. Not for my sake. +But what else can we do but stick it?” + +“I suppose so--but for Heaven's sake give me something worth a man's +doing. If I could tackle a job such as you and”--the boy winced--“you +and mother took on I believe I'd try it. But that office! Any fool could +sit in my place and carry on. It is like the job they used to give to +the crocks or the slackers at the base to do. Give me a man's job.” + +The father's keen blue eyes looked his son over. + +“A man's job?” he said, with a grim smile, realising as his son did not +how much of a man's job it was. “Suppose you learn this one as I did?” + +“What do you mean, Dad, exactly? How did you begin?” + +“I? At the tail of the saw.” + +“All right, I'm game.” + +“Boy, you are right--I believe in my soul you are right. You did a man's +job 'out there' and you have it in you to do a man's job again.” + +The son shrugged his shoulders. Next morning at seven they were down at +the planing mill where men were doing men's work. He was at a man's job, +at the tail of a saw, and drawing a man's pay, rubbing shoulders with +men on equal terms, as he had in the trenches. And for the first time +since Armistice Day, if not happy or satisfied, he was content to carry +on. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +ANNETTE + + +Sam Wigglesworth had finished with school, which is not quite the same +as saying that he had finished his education. A number of causes had +combined to bring this event to pass. First, Sam was beyond the age +of compulsory attendance at the Public School, the School Register +recording him as sixteen years old. Then, Sam's educational career had +been anything but brilliant. Indeed, it might fairly be described as +dull. All his life he had been behind his class, the biggest boy in his +class, which fact might have been to Sam a constant cause of humiliation +had he not held as of the slightest moment merely academic achievements. +One unpleasant effect which this fact had upon Sam's moral quality was +that it tended to make him a bully. He was physically the superior of +all in his class, and this superiority he exerted for what he deemed the +discipline of younger and weaker boys, who excelled him in intellectual +attainment. + +Furthermore, Sam, while quite ready to enforce the code of discipline +which he considered suitable to the smaller and weaker boys in his +class, resented and resisted the attempts of constituted authority +to enforce discipline in his own case, with the result that Sam's +educational career was, after much long suffering, abruptly terminated +by the action of the long-suffering head, Alex Day. + +“With great regret I must report,” his letter to the School Board +ran, “that in the case of Samuel Wigglesworth I have somehow failed to +inculcate the elementary principles of obedience to school regulations +and of adherence to truth in speech. I am free to acknowledge,” went on +the letter, “that the defect may be in myself as much as in the boy, but +having failed in winning him to obedience and truth-telling, I feel +that while I remain master of the school I must decline to allow the +influence of this youth to continue in the school. A whole-hearted +penitence for his many offences and an earnest purpose to reform +would induce me to give him a further trial. In the absence of either +penitence or purpose to reform I must regretfully advise expulsion.” + +Joyfully the School Board, who had for months urged upon the reluctant +head this action, acquiesced in the course suggested, and Samuel was +forthwith expelled, to his own unmitigated relief but to his father's +red and raging indignation at what he termed the “(h)ignorant +persecution of their betters by these (h)insolent Colonials,” for +“'is son 'ad 'ad the advantages of schools of the 'ighest standin' in +(H)England.” + +Being expelled from school Sam forthwith was brought by his father +to the office of the mills, where he himself was employed. There he +introduced his son to the notice of Mr. Grant Maitland, with request for +employment. + +The old man looked the boy over. + +“What has he been doing?” + +“Nothin'. 'E's just left school.” + +“High School?” + +“Naw. Public School.” Wigglesworth Sr.'s tone indicated no exalted +opinion of the Public School. + +“Public School! What grade, eh?” + +“Grade? I dinnaw. Wot grade, Samuel? Come, speak (h)up, cawn't yeh?” + +“Uh?” Sam's mental faculties had been occupied in observing the +activities and guessing the probable fate of a lumber-jack gaily decked +in scarlet sash and blue overalls, who was the central figure upon a +flaming calendar tacked up behind Mr. Maitland's desk, setting forth +the commercial advantages of trading with the Departmental Stores of +Stillwell & Son. + +“Wot grade in school, the boss is (h)askin',” said his father sharply. + +“Grade?” enquired Sam, returning to the commonplace of the moment. + +“Yes, what grade in the Public School were you in when you left?” The +blue eyes of the boss was “borin' 'oles” through Sam and the voice +pierced like a “bleedin' gimblet,” as Wigglesworth, Sr., reported to his +spouse that afternoon. + +Sam hesitated a bare second. “Fourth grade it was,” he said with sullen +reluctance. + +“'Adn't no chance, Samuel 'adn't. Been a delicate child ever since 'is +mother stopped suckin' 'im,” explained the father with a sympathetic +shake of his head. + +The cold blue eye appraised the boy's hulking mass. + +“'E don't look it,” continued Mr. Wigglesworth, noting the keen glance, +“but 'e's never been (h)able to bide steady at the school. (H)It's 'is +brain, sir.” + +“His--ah--brain?” Again the blue eyes appraised the boy, this time +scanning critically his face for indication of undue brain activity. + +“'Is brain, sir,” earnestly reiterated the sympathetic parent. “'Watch +that (h)infant's brain,' sez the Doctor to the missus when she put 'im +on the bottle. And you know, we 'ave real doctors in (H)England, sir. +'Watch 'is brain,' sez 'e, and, my word, the care 'is ma 'as took +of that boy's brain is wunnerful, is fair beautiful, sir.” Mr. +Wigglesworth's voice grew tremulous at the remembrance of that maternal +solicitude. + +“And was that why he left school?” enquired the boss. + +“Well, sir, not (h)exackly,” said Mr. Wigglesworth, momentarily taken +aback, “though w'en I comes to think on it that must a been at the +bottom of it. You see, w'en Samuel went at 'is books of a night 'e'd no +more than begin at a sum an' 'e'd say to 'is ma, 'My brain's a-whirlin', +ma', just like that, and 'is ma would 'ave to pull 'is book away, just +drag it away, you might say. Oh, 'e's 'ad a 'ard time, 'as Samuel.” At +this point the boss received a distinct shock, for, as his eyes were +resting upon Samuel's face meditatively while he listened somewhat +apathetically, it must be confessed, to the father's moving tale, the +eye of the boy remote from the father closed in a slow but significant +wink. + +The boss sat up, galvanised into alert attention. “Eh? What?” he +exclaimed. + +“Yes, sir, 'e's caused 'is ma many a (h)anxious hour, 'as Samuel.” Again +the eye closed in a slow and solemn wink. “And we thought, 'is ma and +me, that we would like to get Samuel into some easy job--” + +“An easy job, eh?” + +“Yes, sir. Something in the office, 'ere.” + +“But his brain, you say, would not let him study his books.” + +“Oh, it was them sums, sir, an' the Jography and the 'Istory an' the +Composition, an', an'--wot else, Samuel? You see, these 'ere schools +ain't a bit like the schools at 'ome, sir. They're so confusing with +their subjecks. Wot I say is, why not stick to real (h)eddication, +without the fiddle faddles?” + +“So you want an easy job for your son, eh?” enquired Mr. Maitland. + +“Boy,” he said sharply to Samuel, whose eyes had again become fixed upon +the gay and daring lumber-jack. Samuel recalled himself with visible +effort. “Why did you leave school? The truth, mind.” The “borin'” eyes +were at their work. + +“Fired!” said Sam promptly. + +Mr. Wigglesworth began a sputtering explanation. + +“That will do, Wigglesworth,” said Mr. Maitland, holding up his hand. +“Sam, you come and see me tomorrow here at eight. Do you understand?” + +Sam nodded. After they had departed there came through the closed +office door the sound of Mr. Wigglesworth's voice lifted in violent +declamation, but from Sam no answering sound could be heard. + +The school suffered no noticeable loss in the intellectual quality of +its activities by the removal of the whirling brain and incidentally +its physical integument of Samuel Wigglesworth. To the smaller boys the +absence of Sam brought unbounded joy, more especially during the +hours of recess from study and on their homeward way from school after +dismissal. + +More than any other, little Steve Wickes rejoiced in Sam's departure +from school. Owing to some mysterious arrangement of Sam's brain cells +he seemed to possess an abnormal interest in observing the sufferings +of any animal. The squirming of an unfortunate fly upon a pin fascinated +him, the sight of a wretched dog driven mad with terror rushing +frantically down a street, with a tin can dangling to its tail, +convulsed him with shrieking delight. The more highly organised the +suffering animal, the keener was Sam's joy. A child, for instance, +flying in a paroxysm of fear from Sam's hideously contorted face +furnished acute satisfaction. It fell naturally enough that little +Steve Wickes, the timid, shrinking, humpbacked son of the dead soldier, +Stephen Wickes, afforded Sam many opportunities of rare pleasure. It +was Sam that coined and, with the aid of his sycophantic following +never wanting to a bully, fastened to the child the nickname of “Humpy +Wicksy,” working thereby writhing agony in the lad's highly sensitive +soul. But Sam did not stay his hand at the infliction of merely mental +anguish. It was one of his favorite forms of sport to seize the child by +the collar and breeches and, swinging him high over head, hold him there +in an anguish of suspense, awaiting the threatened drop. It is to be +confessed that Sam was not entirely without provocation at the hands +of little Steve, for the lad had a truly uncanny cunning hidden in +his pencil, by means of which Sam was held up in caricature to the +surreptitious joy of his schoolmates. Sam's departure from school +deprived him of the full opportunity he formerly enjoyed of indulging +himself in his favourite sport. On this account he took the more eager +advantage of any opportunity that offered still to gratify his taste in +this direction. + +Sauntering sullenly homeward from his interview with the boss and with +his temper rasped to a raw edge by his father's wrathful comments upon +his “dommed waggin' tongue,” he welcomed with quite unusual eagerness +the opportunity for indulging himself in his pastime of baiting Humpy +Wicksy whom he overtook on his way home from school during the noon +intermission. + +“Hello, Humpy,” he roared at the lad. + +Like a frightened rabbit Steve scurried down a lane, Sam whooping after +him. + +“Come back, you little beast. Do you hear me? I'll learn you to come +when you're called,” he shouted, catching the terrified lad and heaving +him aloft in his usual double-handed grip. + +“Let me down, you! Leave me alone now,” shrieked the boy, squirming, +scratching, biting like an infuriated cat. + +“Bite, would you?” said Sam, flinging the boy down. “Now then,” catching +him by the legs and turning him over on his stomach, “we'll make a +wheelbarrow of you. Gee up, Buck! Want a ride, boys?” he shouted to his +admiring gallery of toadies. “All aboard!” + +While the unhappy Steve, shrieking prayers and curses, was struggling +vainly to extricate himself from the hands gripping his ankles, Annette +Perrotte, stepping smartly along the street on her way from the box +factory, came past the entrance to the lane. By her side strode a +broad-shouldered, upstanding youth. Arrested by Steve's outcries and +curses she paused. + +“What are those boys at, I wonder?” she said. “There's that big lout of +a Wigglesworth boy. He's up to no good, I bet you.” + +“Oh, a kids' row of some kind or ither, a doot,” said the youth. “Come +along.” + +“He's hurting someone,” said Annette, starting down the lane. “What? I +believe it's that poor child, Steve Wickes.” Like a wrathful fury she +dashed in upon Sam and his company of tormentors and, knocking the +little ones right and left, she sprang upon Sam with a fierce cry. + +“You great brute!” She seized him by his thatch of thick red hair and +with one mighty swing she hurled him clear of Steve and dashed him head +on against the lane fence. Sheer surprise held Sam silent for a few +seconds, but as he felt the trickle of warm blood run down his face and +saw it red upon his hand, his surprise gave place to terror. + +“Ouw! Ouw!” he bellowed. “I'm killed, I'm dying. Ouw! Ouw!” + +“I hope so,” said Annette, holding Steve in her arms and seeking to +quiet his sobbing. But as she saw the streaming blood her face paled. + +“For the love of Mike, Mack, see if he's hurt,” she said in a low voice +to her companion. + +“Not he! He's makin' too much noise,” said the young man. “Here, you +young bull, wait till I see what's wrang wi' ye,” he continued, stooping +over Sam. + +“Get away from me, I tell you. Ouw! Ouw! I'm dying, and they'll hang +her. Ouw! Ouw! I'm killed, and I'm just glad I am, for she'll be hung to +death.” Here Sam broke into a vigorous stream of profanity. + +“Ay, he's improvin' A doot,” said Mack. “Let us be going.” + +“'Ello! Wot's (h)up?” cried a voice. It was Mr. Wigglesworth on his way +home from the mill. “Why, bless my living lights, if it bean't Samuel. +Who's been a beatin' of you, Sammy?” His eye swept the crowd. “'Ave you +been at my lad?” he asked, stepping toward the young man, whom Annette +named Mack. + +“Aw, steady up, man. There's naethin' much wrang wi' the lad--a wee +scratch on the heid frae fa'in' against the fence yonder.” + +“Who 'it 'im, I say?” shouted Mr. Wigglesworth. “Was it you?” he added, +squaring up to the young man. + +“No, it wasn't, Mr. Wigglesworth. It was me.” Mr. Wigglesworth turned +on Annette who, now that Sam's bellowing had much abated with the +appearance of his father upon the scene, had somewhat regained her +nerve. + +“You?” gasped Mr. Wigglesworth. “You? My Samuel? It's a lie,” he cried. + +“Hey, mon, guairrd y're tongue a bit,” said Mack. “Mind ye're speakin' +to a leddy.” + +“A lidy! A lidy!” Mr. Wigglesworth's voice was eloquent of scorn. + +“Aye, a leddy!” said Mack. “An' mind what ye say aboot her tae. Mind +y're manners, man.” + +“My manners, hey? An' 'oo may you be, to learn me manners, you bloomin' +(h)ignorant Scotch (h)ass. You give me (h)any of your (h)imperance an' +I'll knock y're bloomin' block (h)off, I will.” And Mr. Wigglesworth, +throwing himself into the approved pugilistic attitude, began dancing +about the young Scot. + +“Hoot, mon, awa' hame wi' ye. Tak' yon young tyke wi' ye an' gie him a +bit wash, he's needin' it,” said Mack, smiling pleasantly at the excited +and belligerent Mr. Wigglesworth. + +At this point Captain Jack, slowly motoring by the lane mouth, turned +his machine to the curb and leaped out. + +“What's the row here?” he asked, making his way through the considerable +crowd that had gathered. “What's the trouble, Wigglesworth?” + +“They're knockin' my boy abaht, so they be,” exclaimed Mr. Wigglesworth. +“But,” with growing and righteous wrath, “they'll find (h)out that, +wotsomever they do to a kid, w'en they come (h)up agin Joe Wigglesworth +they've struck somethin' 'ard--'ard, d'ye 'ear? 'Ard!” And Mr. +Wigglesworth made a pass at the young Scot. + +“Hold on, Wigglesworth,” said Captain Jack quietly, catching his arm. +“Were you beating up this kid?” he asked, turning to the young man. + +“Nae buddie's beatin' up the lad,” said Mack quietly. + +“It was me,” said the girl, turning a defiant face to Captain Jack. + +“You? Why! great Scot! Blest if it isn't Annette.” + +“Yes, it's me,” said the girl, her face a flame of colour. + +“By Jove, you've grown up, haven't you? And it was you that--” + +“Yes, that big brute was abusing Steve here.” + +“What? Little Steve Wickes?” + +“He was, and I pitched him into the fence. He hit his head and cut it, I +guess. I didn't mean--” + +“Served him right enough, too, I fancy,” said Captain Jack. + +“I'll 'ave the law on the lot o' ye, I will. I'm a poor workin' man, +but I've got my rights, an' if there's a justice in this Gawd forsaken +country I'll 'ave protection for my family.” And Mr. Wigglesworth, +working up a fury, backed off down the lane. + +“Don't fear, Wigglesworth, you'll get all the justice you want. Perhaps +Sam will tell us--Hello! Where is Sam?” + +But Sam had vanished. He had no mind for an investigation in the +presence of Captain Jack. + +“Well, well, he can't be much injured, I guess. Meantime, can I give you +a lift, Annette?” + +“No, thank you,” said the girl, the colour in her cheeks matching the +crimson ribbon at her throat. “I'm just going home. It's only a little +way. I don't--” + +“The young leddy is with me, sir,” said the young Scotchman quietly. + +“Oh, she is, eh?” said Captain Jack, looking him over. “Ah, well, +then--Good-bye, Annette, for the present.” He held out his hand. “We +must renew our old acquaintance, eh?” + +“Thank you, sir,” said the girl. + +“'Sir?' Rot! You aren't going to 'sir' me, Annette, after all the fun +and the fights we had in the old days. Not much. We're going to be good +chums again, eh? What do you say?” + +“I don't know,” said Annette, flashing a swift glance into Captain +Jack's admiring eyes. “It depends on--” + +“On me?” + +“I didn't say so.” Her head went up a bit. + +“On you?” + +“I didn't say so.” + +“Well, let it go. But we will be pals again, Annette, I vow. Good-bye.” + Captain Jack lifted his hat and moved away. + +As he reached his car he ran up against young Rupert Stillwell. + +“Deucedly pretty Annette has grown, eh?” said Stillwell. + +“Annette's all right,” said Jack, rather brusquely, entering his car. + +“Working in your box factory, I understand, eh?” + +“Don't really know,” said Jack carelessly. “Probably.” + +The crowd had meantime faded away with Captain Jack's going. + +“Did na know the Captain was a friend of yours, Annette,” said Mack, +falling into step beside her. + +“No--yes--I don't know. We went to Public School together before the +war. I was a kid then.” Her manner was abstracted and her eyes were +far away. Mack walked gloomily by her on one side, little Steve on the +other. + +“Huh! He's no your sort, A doot,” he said sullenly. + +“What do you say?” cried Annette, returning from her abstraction. “What +do you mean, 'my sort'?” Her head went high and her eyes flashed. + +“He would na look at ye, for ony guid.” + +“He did look at me though,” replied Annette, tossing her head. + +“No for ony guid!” repeated Mack, stubbornly. + +Annette stopped in her tracks, a burning red on her cheeks and a +dangerous light in her black eyes. + +“Mr. McNish, that's your road,” she said, pointing over his shoulder. + +“A'll tak it tae,” said McNish, wheeling on his heel, “an' ye can hae +your Captain for me.” + +With never a look at him Annette took her way home. + +“Good-bye, Steve,” she said, stooping and kissing the boy. “This is your +corner.” + +“Annette,” he said, with a quick, shy look up into her face, “I like +Captain Jack, don't you?” + +“No,” she said hurriedly. “I mean yes, of course.” + +“And I like you too,” said the boy, with an adoring look in his deep +eyes, “better'n anyone in the world.” + +“Do you, Steve? I'm glad.” Again she stooped swiftly and kissed him. +“Now run home.” + +She hurried home, passed into her room without a word to anyone. Slowly +she removed her hat, then turning to her glass she gazed at her flushed +face for a few moments. A little smile curved her lips. “He did look at +me anyway,” she whispered to the face that looked out at her, “he did, +he did,” she repeated. Then swiftly she covered her eyes. When she +looked again she saw a face white and drawn. “He would na look at ye.” + The words smote her with a chill. Drearily she turned away and went out. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE RECTORY + + +The Rectory was one of the very oldest of the more substantial of +Blackwater's dwellings. Built of grey limestone from the local quarries, +its solid square mass relieved by its quaint dormer windows was softened +from its primal ugliness by the Boston ivy that had clambered to the +eaves and lay draped about the windows like a soft green mantle. Built +in the early days, it stood with the little church, a gem of Gothic +architecture, within spacious grounds bought when land was cheap. Behind +the house stood the stable, built also of grey limestone, and at one +side a cherry and apple orchard formed a charming background to the grey +buildings with their crowding shrubbery and gardens. A gravelled winding +drive led from the street through towering elms, a picturesque remnant +from the original forest, to the front door and round the house to the +stable yard behind. From the driveway a gravelled footpath led through +the shrubbery and flower garden by a wicket gate to the Church. When +first built the Rectory stood in dignified seclusion on the edge of the +village, but the prosperity of the growing town demanding space for its +inhabitants had driven its streets far beyond the Rectory demesne on +every side, till now it stood, a green oasis of sheltered loveliness, +amid a crowding mass of modern brick dwellings, comfortable enough but +arid of beauty and suggestive only of the utilitarian demands of a busy +manufacturing town. + +For nearly a quarter of a century the Rev. Herbert Aveling Templeton, +D.D., LL.D., for whom the Rectory had been built, had ministered in +holy things to the Parish of St. Alban's and had exercised a guiding and +paternal care over the social and religious well-being of the community. +The younger son of one of England's noble families, educated in an +English Public School and University, he represented, in the life of +this new, thriving, bustling town, the traditions and manners of an +English gentleman of the Old School. Still in his early sixties, he +carried his years with all the vigour of a man twenty years his junior. +As he daily took his morning walk for his mail, stepping with the brisk +pace of one whose poise the years had not been able to disturb, yet +with the stately bearing consistent with the dignity attaching to +his position and office, men's eyes followed the tall, handsome, +white-haired, well set up gentleman always with admiration and, where +knowledge was intimate, with reverence and affection. Before the recent +rapid growth of the town consequent upon the establishment of various +manufacturing industries attracted thither by the unique railroad +facilities, the Rector's walk was something in the nature of public +perambulatory reception. For he knew them all, and for all had a word +of greeting, of enquiry, of cheer, of admonition, so that by the time +he had returned to his home he might have been said to have conducted a +pastoral visitation of a considerable proportion of his flock. Even yet, +with the changes that had taken place, his walk to the Post Office was +punctuated with greetings and salutations from his fellow-citizens in +whose hearts his twenty-five years of devotion to their well-being, +spiritual and physical, had made for him an enduring place. + +The lady of the Rectory, though some twenty years his junior, yet, by +reason of delicate health due largely to the double burden of household +cares and parish duties, appeared to be quite of equal age. Gentle in +spirit, frail in body, there seemed to be in her soul something of the +quality of tempered steel, yet withal a strain of worldly wisdom +mingled with a strange ignorance of the affairs of modern life. Her life +revolved around one centre, her adored husband, a centre enlarged as +time went on to include her only son and her two daughters. All others +and all else in her world were of interest solely as they might be more +or less closely related to these, the members of her family. The town +and the town folk she knew solely as her husband's parish. There were +other people and other communions, no doubt, but being beyond the pale +they could hardly be supposed to matter, or, at any rate, she could not +be supposed to regard them with more than the interest and spasmodic +concern which she felt it her duty to bestow upon those unfortunate +dwellers in partibus infidelium. + +Regarding the Public School of the town with aversion because of its +woefully democratic character, she was weaned from her hostility to that +institution when her son's name was entered upon its roll. Her eldest +daughter, indeed, she sent as a girl of fourteen to an exclusive English +school, the expense of which was borne by her husband's eldest brother, +Sir Arthur Templeton, for she held the opinion that while for a boy +the Public School was an excellent institution with a girl it was +quite different. Hence, while her eldest daughter went “Home” for her +education, her boy went to the Blackwater Public and High Schools, which +institutions became henceforth invested with the highest qualifications +as centres of education. Her boy's friends were her friends, and to them +her house was open at all hours of day or night. Indeed, it became +the governing idea in her domestic policy that her house should be the +rallying centre for everything that was related in any degree to her +children's life. Hence, she quietly but effectively limited the circle +of the children's friends to those who were able and were willing to +make the Rectory their social centre. She saw to it that for Herbert's +intimate boy friends the big play room at the top of the house, once a +bare and empty room and later the large and comfortable family living +room, became the place of meeting for all their social and athletic +club activities. With unsleeping vigilance she stood on guard against +anything that might break that circle of her heart's devotion. The +circle might be, indeed must be enlarged, as for instance to take in the +Maitland boys, Herbert's closest chums. She was wise enough to see the +wisdom of that, but nothing on earth would she allow to filch from her a +single unit of the priceless treasures of her heart. + +To this law of her life she made one glorious, one splendid exception. +When her country called, she, after weeks of silent, fierce, lonely, +agonised struggle gave up her boy and sent him with voiceless, tearless +pride to the War. + +But, when the boy's Colonel wrote in terms of affectionate pride of +her boy's glorious passing, with new and strange adaptability her heart +circle was extended to include her boy's comrades in war and those who +like herself had sent them forth. Thenceforth every khaki covered lad +was to her a son, and every soldier's mother a friend. + +As her own immediate home circle grew smaller, the intensity of her +devotion increased. Her two daughters became her absorbing concern. With +the modern notion that a girl might make for herself a career in life +she had no sympathy whatever. To see them happily married and in homes +of their own became the absorbing ambition of her life. To this end +she administered her social activities, with this purpose in view she +encouraged or discouraged her daughters' friendships with men. With the +worldly wisdom of which she had her own share she came to the conclusion +that ineligible men friends, that is, men friends unable to give her +daughters a proper setting in the social world, were to be effectively +eliminated. That the men of her daughters' choosing should be gentlemen +in breeding went without saying, but that they should be sufficiently +endowed with wealth to support a proper social position was equally +essential. + +That Jack Maitland had somehow dropped out of the intimate circle of +friends who had in pre-war days made the Rectory their headquarters was +to her a more bitter disappointment than she cared to acknowledge even +to herself. Her son and the two Maitland boys had been inseparable in +their school and college days, and with the two young men her daughters +had been associated in the very closest terms of comradeship. But +somehow Captain Jack Maitland after the first months succeeding his +return from the war had drawn apart. Disappointed, perplexed, hurt, she +vainly had striven to restore the old footing between the young man and +her daughters. Young Maitland had taken up his medical studies for a +few months at his old University in Toronto and so had been out of touch +with the social life of his home town. Then after he had “chucked” his +course as impossible he had at his father's earnest wish taken up +work at the mills, at first in the office, later in the manufacturing +department. There was something queer in Jack's attitude toward his old +life and its associations, and after her first failures in attempting +to restore the old relationship her eldest daughter's pride and then her +own forbade further efforts. + +Adrien, her eldest daughter, had always been a difficult child, and her +stay in England and later her experience in war work in France where for +three years she had given rare service in hospital work had somehow made +her even more inaccessible to her mother. And now the situation had been +rendered more distressing by her determination “to find something to +do.” She was firm in her resolve that she had no intention of patiently +waiting in her home, ostensibly busying herself with social duties but +in reality “waiting if not actually angling for a man.” She bluntly +informed her scandalised parent that “when she wanted a man more than +a career it would be far less humiliating to frankly go out and get +him than to practise alluring poses in the hopes that he might deign to +bestow upon her his lordly regard.” Her mother wisely forebore to argue. +Indeed, she had long since learned that in argumentive powers she was +hopelessly outclassed by her intellectual daughter. She could only +express her shocked disappointment at such intentions and quietly plan +to circumvent them. + +As to Patricia, her younger daughter, she dismissed all concern. She was +only a child as yet, wise beyond her years, but too thoroughly immature +to cause any anxiety for some years to come. Meantime she had at first +tolerated and then gently encouraged the eager and obvious anxiety of +Rupert Stillwell to make a footing for himself in the Rectory family. +At the outbreak of the war her antipathy to young Stillwell as a slacker +had been violent. He had not joined up with the first band of ardent +young souls who had so eagerly pointed the path to duty and to glory. +But, when it had been made clear to the public mind that young Stillwell +had been pronounced physically unfit for service and was therefore +prevented from taking his place in that Canadian line which though it +might wear thin at times had never broken, Mrs. Templeton relieved him +in her mind of the damning count of being a slacker. Later, becoming +impressed with the enthusiasm of the young man's devotion to various +forms of patriotic war service at home, she finally, though it must be +confessed with something of an effort, had granted him a place within +the circle of her home. Furthermore, Rupert Stillwell had done extremely +well in all his business enterprises and had come to be recognised as +one of the coming young men of the district, indeed of the Province, +with sure prospects of advancement in public estimation. Hence, the +frequency with which Stillwell's big Hudson Six could be seen parked on +the gravelled drive before the Rectory front door. In addition to this, +Rupert and his Hudson Six were found to be most useful. He had abundance +of free time and he was charmingly ready with his offers of service. Any +hour of the day the car, driven by himself or his chauffeur, was at the +disposal of any member of the Rectory family, a courtesy of which Mrs. +Templeton was not unwilling to avail herself though never with any +loss of dignity but always with appearance of bestowing rather than +of receiving a favour. As to the young ladies, Adrien rarely allowed +herself the delight of a motor ride in Rupert Stillwell's luxurious car. +On the other hand, had her mother not intervened, Patricia would have +indulged without scruple her passion for joy-riding. The car she adored, +Rupert Stillwell she regarded simply as a means to the indulgence of her +adoration. He was a jolly companion, a cleverly humourous talker, and an +unfailing purveyor of bon-bons. Hence he was to Patricia an ever welcome +guest at the Rectory, and the warmth of Patricia's welcome went a long +way to establish his position of intimacy in the family. + +It was not to be supposed, however, that that young lady's gracious +and indeed eager acceptance of the manifold courtesies of the young +gentleman in question burdened her in the very slightest with any sense +of obligation to anything but the most cavalier treatment of him, should +occasion demand. She was unhesitatingly frank and ready with criticism +and challenge of his opinions, indeed he appeared to possess a fatal +facility for championing her special aversions and antagonising her +enthusiasms. Of the latter her most avowed example was Captain Jack, as +she loved to call him. A word of criticism of Captain Jack, her hero, +her knight, sans peur et sans reproche and her loyal soul was aflame +with passionate resentment. + +It so fell on an occasion when young Stillwell was a dinner guest at the +Rectory. + +“Do you know, Patricia,” and Rupert Stillwell looked across the dinner +table teasingly into Patricia's face, “your Captain Jack was rather +mixed up in a nice little row to-day?” + +“I heard all about it, Rupert, and Captain Jack did just what I would +have expected him to do.” Patricia's unsmiling eyes looked steadily into +the young man's smiling face. + +“Rescued a charming young damsel, eh? By the way, that Perrotte girl has +turned out uncommonly good looking,” continued Rupert, addressing the +elder sister. + +“Rescuing a poor little ill-treated boy from the hands of a brutal +bully and the bully's brutal father--” Patricia's voice was coolly +belligerent. + +“My dear Patricia!” The mother's voice was deprecatingly pacific. + +“It is simply true, Mother, and Rupert knows it quite well too, or--” + +“Patricia!” Her father's quiet voice arrested his daughter's flow of +speech. + +“But, Father, everyone--” + +“Patricia!” The voice was just as quiet but with a slightly increased +distinctness in enunciation, and glancing swiftly at her father's face +Patricia recognised that the limits of her speech had been reached, +unless she preferred to change the subject. + +“Yes, Annette has grown very pretty, indeed,” said Adrien, taking up +the conversation, “and is really a very nice girl, indeed. She sings +beautifully. She is the leading soprano in her church choir, I believe.” + +“Captain Jack Maitland appeared to think her quite charming,” said +Rupert, making eyes at Patricia. Patricia's lips tightened and her eyes +gleamed a bit. + +“They were in school together, I think, were they not, Mamma?” said +Adrien, flushing slightly. + +“Of course they were, and so was Rupert, too--” said Patricia with +impatient scorn, “and so would you if you hadn't been sent to England,” + she added to her sister. + +“No doubt of it,” said Rupert with a smile, “but you see she was +fortunate enough to be sent to England.” + +“Blackwater is good enough for me,” said Patricia, a certain stubborn +hostility in her tone. + +“I have always thought the Blackwater High School an excellent +institution,” said her mother quickly, “especially for boys.” + +“Yes, indeed, for boys,” replied Stillwell, “but for young ladies--well, +there is something in an English school, you know, that you can't get in +any High School here in Canada.” + +“Rot!” ejaculated Patricia. + +“My dear Patricia!” The mother was quite shocked. + +“Pardon me, Mother, but you know we have a perfectly splendid High +School here. Father has often said so.” + +Her mother sighed. “Yes, for boys. But for girls, I feel with Rupert +that you get something in English schools that--” She hesitated, looking +uncertainly at her elder daughter. + +“Yes, and perhaps lose something, Mamma,” said Adrien quietly. “I mean,” + she added hastily, “you lose touch with a lot of things and people, +friends. Now, for instance, you remember when we were all children, +boys and girls together, at the Public School, Annette was one of the +cleverest and best of the lot of us, I used to be fond of her--and the +others. Now--” + +“But you can't help growing up,” said Rupert, “and--well, democracy is +all right and that sort of thing, but you must drift into your class you +know. There's Annette, for instance. She is a factory hand, a fine girl +of course, and all that, but--” + +“Oh, I suppose we must recognise facts. Rupert, you are quite right,” + said Mrs. Templeton, “there must be social distinctions and there are +classes. I mean,” she added, as if to forestall the outburst she saw +gathering behind her younger daughter's closed lips, “we must inevitably +draw to our own set by our natural or acquired tastes and by our +traditions and breeding.” + +“All very well in England, Mamma. I suppose dear Uncle Arthur and our +dear cousins would hardly feel called upon to recognise Annette as a +friend.” + +“Why should they?” challenged Rupert. + +“My dear Patricia,” said her father, mildly patient, “you are quite +wrong. Our people at home, your uncle Arthur, I mean, and your cousins, +and all well-bred folk, do not allow class distinctions to limit +friendship. Friends are chosen on purely personal grounds of real worth +and--well, congeniality.” + +“Would Uncle Arthur, or rather, Aunt Alicia have Annette to dinner, for +instance?” demanded Patricia. + +“Certainly not,” said her mother promptly. + +“She would not do anything to embarrass Annette,” said her father. + +“Oh, Dad, what a funk. That is quite unworthy of you.” + +“Would she be asked here now to dinner?” said Rupert. “I mean,” he added +in some confusion, “would it be, ah, suitable? You know what I mean.” + +“She has been here. Don't you remember, Mamma? She was often here. And +every time she came she was the cleverest thing, she was the brightest, +the most attractive girl in the bunch.” Her mother's eyebrows went up. +“In the party, I mean. And the most popular. Why, I remember quite well +that Rupert was quite devoted to her.” + +“A mere child, she was then, you know,” said Rupert. + +“She is just as bright, just as attractive, as clever now, more so +indeed, as fine a girl in every way. But of course she was not a factory +girl then. That's what you mean,” replied Patricia scornfully. + +“She has found her class,” persisted Rupert. “She is all you say, but +surely--” + +“Yes, she is working in the new box factory. Her mother, lazy, selfish +thing, took her from the High School.” + +“My dear Patricia, you are quite violent,” protested her mother. + +“It's true, Mamma,” continued the girl, her eyes agleam, “and now she +works in the box factory while Captain Jack works in the planing mill. +She is in the same class.” + +“And good friends apparently,” said Rupert with a malicious little grin. + +“Why not? We would have Captain Jack to dinner, but not Annette.” + +Her father smiled at her. “Well done, little girl. Annette is a fine +girl and is fortunate in her champion. You can have her to dinner any +evening, I am quite sure.” + +“Can we, Mamma?” + +“My dear, we will not discuss the matter any further,” said her mother. +“It is a very old question and very perplexing, I confess, but--” + +“We don't see Captain Jack very much since his return,” said her father, +turning the conversation. “You might begin with him, eh, Patsy?” + +“No,” said the girl, a shade falling on her face. “He is always busy. +He has such long hours. He works his day's work with the men and then he +always goes up to the office to his father--and--and--Oh, I don't know, +I wish he would come. He's not--” Patricia fell suddenly silent. + +“Jack is very much engaged,” said her mother quietly. + +“Naturally he is tied up, learning the business, I mean,” said the elder +sister quietly. “He has little time for mere social frivolities and that +sort of thing.” + +“It's not that, Adrien,” said Patricia. “He is different since he came +back. I wish--” She paused abruptly. + +“He is changed,” said her mother with a sigh. “They--the boys are all +changed.” + +“The war has left its mark upon them, and what else can we expect?” said +Dr. Templeton. “One wonders how they can settle down at all to work.” + +“Oh, Jack has settled down all right,” said Patricia, as if analysing +a subject interesting to herself alone. “Jack's not like a lot of them. +He's too much settled down. What is it, I wonder? He seems to have quit +everything, dancing, tennis, golf. He doesn't care--” + +“Doesn't care? What for? That sounds either as if he were an egotist or +a slacker.” Her sister's words rasped Patricia's most sensitive heart +string. She visibly squirmed, eagerly waiting a chance to reply. “Jack +is neither,” continued Adrien slowly. “I understand the thing perfectly. +He has been up against big things, so big that everything else seems +trivial. Fancy a tennis tournament for a man that has stared into hell's +mouth.” + +“My dear, you are right,” said her father. “Patricia is really talking +too much. Young people should--” + +“I know, Daddy--'be seen,'” said the younger daughter, and grinning +affectionately at him she blew him a kiss. “But, all the same, I wish +Captain Jack were not so awfully busy or were a little more keen about +things. He wants something to stir him up.” + +“He may get that sooner than he thinks,” said Stillwell, “or wishes. I +hear there's likely to be trouble in the mills.” + +“Trouble? Financial? I should be very sorry,” said Dr. Templeton. + +“No. Labour. The whole labour world is in a ferment. The Maitlands can +hardly expect to escape. As a matter of fact, the row has made a little +start, I happen to know.” + +“These labour troubles are really very distressing. There is no end to +them,” said Mrs. Templeton, with the resignation one shows in discussing +the inscrutable ways of Providence. “It does seem as if the working +classes to-day have got quite beyond all bounds. One wonders what they +will demand next. What is the trouble now, Rupert? Of course--wages.” + +“Oh, the eternal old trouble is there, with some new ones added that +make even wages seem small.” + +“And what are these?” enquired Dr. Templeton. + +“Oh, division of profits, share in administration and control.” + +“Division of profits in addition to wages?” enquired Mrs. Templeton, +aghast. “But, how dreadful. One would think they actually owned the +factory.” + +“That is the modern doctrine, I believe,” said Rupert. + +“Surely that is an extreme statement,” said Dr. Templeton, in a shocked +voice, “or you are talking of the very radical element only.” + +“The Rads lead, of course, but you would be surprised at the demands +made to-day. Why, I heard a young chap last week, a soap-box artist, +denouncing all capitalists as parasites. 'Why should we work for +anyone but ourselves?' he was saying. 'Why don't we take charge of the +factories and run them for the general good?' I assure you, sir, those +were his very words.” + +“Really, Rupert, you amaze me. In Blackwater here?” exclaimed Dr. +Templeton. + +“But, my dear papa, that sort of thing is the commonplace of Hyde Park, +you know,” said Adrien, “and--” + +“Ah, Hyde Park, yes. I should expect that sort of thing from the Hyde +Park orators. You get every sort of mad doctrine in Hyde Park, as I +remember it, but--” + +“And I was going to say that that sort of thing has got away beyond +Hyde Park. Why, papa dear, you have been so engrossed in your Higher +Mathematics that you have failed to keep up with the times.” His eldest +daughter smiled at him and, reaching across the corner of the table, +patted his hand affectionately. “We are away beyond being shocked at +profit sharing, and even sharing in control of administration and that +sort of thing.” + +“But there remains justice, I hope,” said her father, “and the right of +ownership.” + +“Ah, that's just it--what is ownership?” + +“Oh, come, Adrien,” said Rupert, “you are not saying that Mr. Maitland +doesn't own his factory and mill.” + +“It depends on what you mean by own,” said the girl coolly. “You must +not take too much for granted.” + +“Well, what my money pays for I own, I suppose,” said Rupert. + +“Well,” said Adrien, “that depends.” + +“My dear Adrien,” said her mother, “you have such strange notions. +I suppose you got them in those Clubs in London and from those queer +people you used to meet.” + +“Very dear people,” said Adrien, with a far away look in her eyes, “and +people that loved justice and right.” + +“All right, Ade,” said her younger sister, with a saucy grin, “I agree +entirely with your sentiments. I just adore that pale blue tie of yours. +I suppose, now that what's yours is mine, I can preempt that when I +like.” + +“Let me catch you at it!” + +“Well done, Patricia. You see the theories are all right till we come to +have them applied all round,” said Rupert. + +“We were talking of joint ownership, Pat,” said her sister, “the joint +ownership of things to the making of which we have each contributed a +part.” + +“Exactly,” said Rupert. “I guess Grant Maitland paid his own good money +for his plant.” + +“Yes,” said Adrien. + +“Yes, and all he paid for he owns.” + +“Yes.” + +“Well, that's all there is to it.” + +“Oh, pardon me--there is a good deal more--” + +“Well, well, children, we shall not discuss the subject any further. +Shall we all go up for coffee?” + +“These are very radical views you are advancing, Adrien,” said her +father, rising from his chair. “You must be careful not to say things +like that in circles where you might be taken seriously.” + +“Seriously, Daddy? I was never more serious in my life.” She put her arm +through her father's. “I must give you some books, some reports to read, +I see,” she said, laughing up into his face. + +“Evidently,” said her father, “if I am to live with you.” + +“I wonder what Captain Jack would think of these views,” said Rupert, +dropping into step with Patricia as they left the dining room together. + +“He will think as Adrien does,” said Patricia stoutly. + +“Ah, I wouldn't be too sure about that,” said Rupert. “You see, it makes +a difference whose ox is being gored.” + +“What do you mean?” cried Patricia hotly. + +“Never mind, Pat,” said her sister over her shoulder. “I don't think he +knows Captain Jack as we do.” + +“Perhaps better,” said Rupert in a significant tone. + +Patricia drew away from him. + +“I think you are just horrid,” she said. “Captain Jack is--” + +“Never mind, dear. Don't let him pull your leg like that,” said her +sister, with a little colour in her cheek. “We know Captain Jack, don't +we?” + +“We do!” said Patricia with enthusiasm. + +“We do!” echoed Rupert, with a smile that drove Pat into a fury. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE + + +There was trouble at the Maitland Mills. For the first time in his +history Grant Maitland found his men look askance at him. For the first +time in his life he found himself viewing with suspicion the workers +whom he had always taken a pride in designating “my men.” The situation +was at once galling to his pride and shocking to his sense of fair play. +His men were his comrades in work. He knew them--at least, until these +war days he had known them--personally, as friends. They trusted him and +were loyal to him, and he had taken the greatest care to deal justly +and more than justly by them. No labour troubles had ever disturbed the +relations which existed between him and his men. It was thus no small +shock when Wickes announced one day that a Grievance Committee wished to +interview him. That he should have to meet a Grievance Committee, whose +boast it had been that the first man in the works to know of a grievance +was himself, and that the men with whom he had toiled and shared both +good fortune and ill, but more especially the good, that had befallen +through the last quarter century should have a grievance against +him--this was indeed an experience that cut him to the heart and roused +in him a fury of perplexed indignation. + +“A what? A Grievance Committee!” he exclaimed to Wickes, when the old +bookkeeper came announcing such a deputation. + +“That's what they call themselves, sir,” said Wickes, his tone of +disgust disclaiming all association with any such organization. + +“A Grievance Committee?” said Mr. Maitland again. “Well, I'll be! What +do they want? Who are they? Bring them in,” he roared in a voice whose +ascending tone indicated his growing amazement and wrath. + +“Come in you,” growled Wickes in the voice he generally used for his +collie dog, which bore a thoroughly unenviable reputation, “come on in, +can't ye?” + +There was some shuffling for place in the group at the door, but finally +Mr. Wigglesworth found himself pushed to the front of a committee of +five. With a swift glance which touched “the boss” in its passage and +then rested upon the wall, the ceiling, the landscape visible through +the window, anywhere indeed rather than upon the face of the man against +whom they had a grievance, they filed in and stood ill at ease. + +“Well, Wigglesworth, what is it?” said Grant Maitland curtly. + +Mr. Wigglesworth cleared his throat. He was new at the business and +was obviously torn between conflicting emotions of pride in his present +important position and a wholesome fear of his “boss.” However, having +cleared his throat, Mr. Wigglesworth pulled himself together and with a +wave of the hand began. + +“These 'ere--er--gentlemen an' myself 'ave been (h)appinted a +Committee to lay before you certain grievances w'ich we feel to be very +(h)oppressive, sir, so to speak, w'ich, an' meanin' no offence, sir, as +men, fellow-men, as we might say--” + +“What do you want, Wigglesworth? What's your trouble? You have some +trouble, what is it? Spit it out, man,” said the boss sharply. + +“Well, sir, as I was a-sayin', this 'ere's a Committee (h)appinted to +wait on you, sir, to lay before you certain facts w'ich we wish you to +consider an' w'ich, as British subjecks, we feel--” + +“Come, come, Wigglesworth, cut out the speech, and get at the things. +What do you want? Do you know? If so, tell me plainly and get done with +it.” + +“We want our rights as men,” said Mr. Wigglesworth in a loud voice, “our +rights as free men, and we demand to be treated as British--” + +“Is there anyone of this Committee that can tell me what you want +of me?” said Maitland. “You, Gilby, you have some sense--what is the +trouble? You want more wages, I suppose?” + +“I guess so,” said Gilby, a long, lean man, Canadian born, of about +thirty, “but it ain't the wages that's eatin' me so much.” + +“What then?” + +“It's that blank foreman.” + +“Foreman?” + +“That's right, sir.” “Too blanked smart!” “Buttin' in like a blank billy +goat!” The growls came in various undertones from the Committee. + +“What foreman? Hoddle?” The boss was ready to fight for his subalterns. + +“No! Old Hoddle's all right,” said Gilby. “It's that young smart aleck, +Tony Perrotte.” + +“Tony Perrotte!” Mr. Maitland's voice was troubled and uncertain. “Tony +Perrotte! Why, you don't mean to tell me that Perrotte is not a good +man. He knows his job from the ground up.” + +“Knows too much,” said Gilby. “Wants to run everything and everybody. +You can't tell him anything. And you'd think he was a Brigadier-General +to hear him giving us orders.” + +“You were at the front, Gilby?” + +“I was, for three years.” + +“You know what discipline is?” + +“I do that, and I know too the difference between a Corporal and a +Company Commander. I know an officer when I see him. But a brass hat +don't make a General.” + +“I won't stand for insubordination in my mills, Gilby. You must take +orders from my foreman. You know me, Gilby. You've been long enough with +me for that.” + +“You treat a man fair, Mr. Maitland, and I never kicked at your orders. +Ain't that so?” + +Maitland nodded. + +“But this young dude--” + +“'Dude'? What do you mean, 'dude'? He's no dude!” + +“Oh, he's so stuck on himself that he gives me the wearisome willies. +Look here, other folks has been to the war. He needn't carry his chest +like a blanked bay window.” + +“Look here, Gilby, just quit swearing in this room.” The cold blue eyes +bored into Gilby's hot face. + +“I beg pardon, sir. It's a bad habit I've got, but that--that Tony +Perrotte has got my goat and I'm through with him.” + +“All right, Gilby. If you don't like your job you know what you can do,” + said Maitland coldly. + +“You mean I can quit?” enquired Gilby hotly. + +“I mean there's only one boss in these works, and that's me. And my +foreman takes my orders and passes them along. Those that don't like +them needn't take them.” + +“We demand our rights as--” began Mr. Wigglesworth heatedly. + +“Excuse me, sir. 'A should like to enquir-r-e if it is your-r or-rder-rs +that your-r for-r-man should use blasphemious language to your-r men?” + +The cool, firm, rasping voice cut through Mr. Wigglesworth's sputtering +noise like a circular saw through a pine log. + +Mr. Maitland turned sharply upon the speaker. + +“What is your name, my man?” he enquired. + +“Ma name is Malcolm McNish. 'A doot ye have na har-r-d it. But the name +maitters little. It's the question 'A'm speerin'--asking at ye.” + +Here was no amateur in the business of Grievance Committees. His manner +was that of a self-respecting man dealing with a fellow-man on terms of +perfect equality. There was a complete absence of Wigglesworth's noisy +bluster, as also of Gilby's violent profanity. He obviously knew his +ground and was ready to hold it. He had a case and was prepared to +discuss it. There was no occasion for heat or bluster or profanity. He +was prepared to discuss the matter, man to man. + +Mr. Maitland regarded him for a moment or two with keen steady gaze. + +“Where do you work, McNish?” he enquired of the Scot. + +“A'm workin' the noo in the sawmill. A'm a joiner to trade.” + +“Then Perrotte is not your foreman?” + +“That is true,” said McNish quietly. + +“Then personally you have no grievance against him?” Mr. Maitland had +the air of a man who has scored a bull at the first shot. + +“Ay, A have an' the men tae--the men I represent have--” + +“And you assume to speak for them?” + +“They appoint me to speak for them.” + +“And their complaint is--?” + +“Their complaint is that he is no fit to be a foreman.” + +“Ah, indeed! And you are here solely on their word--” + +“No, not solely, but pairtly. A know by experience and A hae har-r-d the +man, and he's no fit for his job, A'm tellin' you.” + +“I suppose you know the qualifications of a foreman, McNish?” enquired +Mr. Maitland with the suspicion of sarcasm in his voice. + +“Ay, A do that.” + +“And how, may I ask, have you come to the knowledge?” + +“A dinna see--I do not see the bearing of the question.” + +“Only this, that you and those you represent place your judgment as +superior to mine in the choice of a foreman. It would be interesting to +know upon what grounds.” + +“I have been a foreman myself. But there are two points of view in this +question--the point of view of the management and that of the worker. We +have the one point of view, you have the other. And each has its value. +Ours is the more important.” + +“Indeed! And why, pray?” + +“Yours has chiefly to do with profits, ours with human life.” + +“Very interesting indeed,” said Mr. Maitland, “but it happens that +profits and human life are somewhat closely allied--” + +“Aye, but wi' you profits are the primary consideration and humanity the +secondary. Wi' us humanity is the primary.” + +“Very interesting, indeed. But I must decline your premise. You are a +new man here and so I will excuse you the impudence of charging me with +indifference to the well-being of my men.” + +“You put wur-r-ds in my mouth, Mr. Maitland. A said nae sic thing,” + said McNish. “But your foreman disna' know his place, and he must be +changed.” + +“'Must,' eh?” The word had never been used to Mr. Maitland since his own +father fifty years before had used it. It was an unfortunate word for +the success of the interview. “'Must,' eh?” repeated Mr. Maitland with +rising wrath. “I'd have you know, McNish, that the man doesn't live that +says 'must' to me in regard to the men I choose to manage my business.” + +“Then you refuse to remove yere foreman?” + +“Most emphatically, I do,” said Mr. Maitland with glints of fire in his +blue eyes. + +“Verra weel, so as we know yere answer. There is anither matter.” + +“Yes? Well, be quick about it.” + +“A wull that. Ye dinna pay yere men enough wages.” + +“How do you know I don't?” said Mr. Maitland rising from his chair. + +“A have examined certain feegures which I shall be glad to submit tae +ye, in regard tae the cost o' leevin' since last ye fixed the wage. +If yere wage was right then, it's wrang the noo.” Under the strain Mr. +Maitland's boring eyes and increasing impatience the Doric flavour +of McNish's speech grew richer and more guttural, varying with the +intensity of his emotion. + +“And what may these figures be?” enquired Mr. Maitland with a voice of +contempt. + +“These are the figures prepared by the Labour Department of your Federal +Government. I suppose they may be relied upon. They show the increased +cost of living during the last five years. You know yeresel' the +increase in wages. Mr. Maitland, I am told ye are a just man, an' we ask +ye tae dae the r-r-right. That's all, sir.” + +“Thank you for your good opinion, my man. Whether I am a just man or not +is for my own conscience alone. As to the wage question, Mr. Wickes +will tell you, the matter had already been taken up. The result will be +announced in a week or so.” + +“Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir,” said Mr. Wigglesworth. “We felt sure +it would only be necessary to point (h)out the right course to you. I +may say I took the same (h)identical (h)attitude with my fellow workmen. +I sez to them, sez I, 'Mr. Maitland--' + +“That will do, Wigglesworth,” said Mr. Maitland, cutting him short. +“Have you anything more to say?” he continued, turning to McNish. + +“Nothing, sir, except to express the hope that you will reconsider yere +attitude as regards the foreman.” + +“You may take my word for it, I will not,” said Mr. Maitland, snapping +his words off with his teeth. + +“At least, as a fair-minded man, you will look into the matter,” said +McNish temperately. + +“I shall do as I think best,” said Mr. Maitland. + +“It would be wiser.” + +“Do you threaten me, sir?” Mr. Maitland leaned over his desk toward the +calm and rugged Scot, his eyes flashing indignation. + +“Threaten ye? Na, na, threats are for bairns. Yere no a bairn, but a man +an' a wise man an' a just, A doot. A'm gie'in' ye advice. That's all. +Guid day.” + +He turned away from the indignant Mr. Maitland, put his hat on his +head and walked from the room, followed by the other members of the +Committee, with the exception of Mr. Wigglesworth who lingered with +evidently pacific intentions. + +“This, sir, is a most (h)auspicious (h)era, sir. The (h)age of reason +and justice 'as dawned, an'--” + +“Oh, get out, Wigglesworth. Haven't you made all your speeches yet? The +time for the speeches is past. Good day.” + +He turned to his bookkeeper. + +“Wickes, bring me the reports turned in by Perrotte, at once.” + +Mr. Maitland's manner was frankly, almost brutally, imperious. It +was not his usual manner with his subordinates, from which it may +be gathered that Mr. Maitland was seriously disturbed. And with good +reason. In the first place, never in his career had one of his men +addressed him in the cool terms of equality which McNish had used with +him in the recent interview. Then, never had he been approached by +a Grievance Committee. The whole situation was new, irritating, +humiliating. + +As to the wages question, he would settle that without difficulty. He +had never skimped the pay envelope. It annoyed him, however, that he had +been forstalled in the matter by this Committee. But very especially he +was annoyed by the recollection of the deliberative, rasping tones of +that cool-headed Scot, who had so calmly set before him his duty. But +the sting of the interview lay in the consciousness that the criticism +of his foreman was probably just. And then, he was tied to Tony Perrotte +by bonds that reached his heart. Had it not been so, he would have made +short work of the business. As it was, Tony would have to stay at all +costs. Mr. Maitland sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed upon the Big +Bluff visible through the window, but his mind lingering over a picture +that had often gripped hard at his heart during the last two years, +a picture drawn for him in a letter from his remaining son, Jack. The +letter lay in the desk at his hand. He saw in the black night that +shell-torn strip of land between the lines, black as a ploughed field, +lurid for a swift moment under the red glare of a bursting shell or +ghastly in the sickly illumination of a Verry light, and over this black +pitted earth a man painfully staggering with a wounded man on his back. +The words leaped to his eyes. “He brought me out of that hell, Dad.” He +closed his eyes to shut out that picture, his hands clenched on the arms +of his chair. + +“No,” he said, raising his hand in solemn affirmation, “as the Lord God +liveth, while I stay he stays.” + +“Come in,” he said, in answer to a timid tap at the office door. Mr. +Wickes laid a file before him. It needed only a rapid survey of the +sheets to give him the whole story. Incompetence and worse, sheer +carelessness looked up at him from every sheet. The planing mill was in +a state of chaotic disorganization. + +“What does this mean, Mr. Wickes?” he burst forth, putting his finger +upon an item that cried out mismanagement and blundering. “Here is an +order that takes a month to clear which should be done within ten days +at the longest.” + +Wickes stood silent, overwhelmed in dismayed self-condemnation. + +“It seems difficult somehow to get orders through, sir, these days,” he +said after a pause. + +“Difficult? What is the difficulty? The men are there, the machines are +there, the material is in the yard. Why the delay? And look at this. +Here is a lot of material gone to the scrap heap, the finest spruce ever +grown in Canada too. What does this mean, Wickes?” he seemed to welcome +the opportunity of finding a scapegoat for economic crimes, for which he +could find no pardon. + +Sheet after sheet passed in swift review under his eye. Suddenly he +flung himself back in his chair. + +“Wickes, this is simply damnable!” + +“Yes, sir,” said Wickes, his face pale and his fingers trembling. “I +don't--I don't seem to be able to--to--get things through.” + +“Get things through? I should say not,” shouted Maitland, glaring at +him. + +“I have tried, I mean I'm afraid I'm--that I am not quite up to it, as I +used to be. I get confused--and--” The old bookkeeper's lips were white +and quivering. He could not get on with his story. + +“Here, take these away,” roared Maitland. + +Gathering up the sheets with fingers that trembled helplessly, +Wickes crept hurriedly out through the door, leaving a man behind +him furiously, helplessly struggling in the relentless grip of his +conscience, lashed with a sense of his own injustice. His anger which +had found vent upon his old bookkeeper he knew was due another man, a +man with whom at any cost he could never allow himself to be angry. The +next two hours were bad hours for Grant Maitland. + +As the quitting whistle blew a tap came again to the office door. It was +Wickes, with a paper in his hand. Without a word he laid the paper upon +his chief's desk and turned away. Maitland glanced over it rapidly. + +“Wickes, what does this nonsense mean?” His chief's voice arrested him. +He turned again to the desk. + +“I don't think--I have come to feel, sir, that I am not able for my +job. I do not see as how I can go on.” Maitland's brows frowned upon the +sheet. Slowly he picked up the paper, tore it across and tossed it into +the waste basket. + +“Wickes, you are an old fool--and,” he added in a voice that grew husky, +“I am another and worse.” + +“But, sir--” began Wickes, in hurried tones. + +“Oh, cut it all out, Wickes,” said Maitland impatiently. “You know I +won't stand for that. But what can we do? He saved my boy's life--” + +“Yes, sir, and he was with my Stephen at the last, and--” The old man's +voice suddenly broke. + +“I remember, Wickes, I remember. And that's another reason--We must find +another way out.” + +“I have been thinking, sir,” said the bookkeeper timidly, “if you had a +younger man in my place--” + +“You would go out, eh? I believe on my soul you would. You--you--old +fool. But,” said Maitland, reaching his hand across the desk, “I don't +go back on old friends that way.” + +The two men stood facing each other for a few minutes, with hands +clasped, Maitland's face stern and set, Wickes' working in a pitiful +effort to stay the tears that ran down his cheeks, to choke back the +sobs that shook his old body as if in the grip of some unseen powerful +hand. + +“We must find a way,” said Maitland, when he felt sure of his voice. +“Some way, but not that way. Sit down. We must go through this +together.” + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE FOREMAN + + +Grant Maitland's business instincts and training were such as to forbid +any trifling with loose management in any department of his plant. He +was, moreover, too just a man to allow any of his workmen to suffer +for failures not their own. His first step was to get at the facts. His +preliminary move was characteristic of him. He sent for McNish. + +“McNish,” he said, “your figures I have examined. They tell me nothing +I did not know, but they are cleverly set down. The matter of wages I +shall deal with as I have always dealt with it in my business. The other +matter--” Mr. Maitland paused, then proceeded with grave deliberation, +“I must deal with in my own way. It will take a little time. I shall not +delay unnecessarily, but I shall accept dictation from no man as to my +methods.” + +McNish stood silently searching his face with steady eyes. + +“You are a new man here, and I find you are a good workman,” continued +Mr. Maitland. “I don't know you nor your aims and purposes in this +Grievance Committee business of yours. If you want a steady job with a +chance to get on, you will get both; if you want trouble, you can get +that too, but not for long, here.” + +Still the Scot held him with grave steady gaze, but speaking no word. + +“You understand me, McNish?” said Maitland, nettled at the man's +silence. + +“Aye, A've got a heid,” he said in an impassive voice. + +“Well, then, I hope you will govern yourself accordingly. Good-day,” + said Maitland, closing the interview. + +McNish still stood immovable. + +“That's all I have to say,” said Maitland, glancing impatiently at the +man. + +“But it's no all A have to say, if ye will pairmit me,” answered McNish +in a voice quiet and respectful and apparently, except for its Doric +flavour, quite untouched by emotion of any kind soever. + +“Go on,” said Maitland shortly, as the Scot stood waiting. + +“Maister Maitland,” said McNish, rolling out a deeper Doric, “ye have +made a promise and a threat. Yere threat is naething tae me. As tae yere +job, A want it and A want tae get on, but A'm a free man the noo an' a +free man A shall ever be. Good-day tae ye.” He bowed respectfully to his +employer and strode from the room. + +Mr. Maitland sat looking at the closed door. + +“He is a man, that chap, at any rate,” he said to himself, “but what's +his game, I wonder. He will bear watching.” + +The very next day Maitland made a close inspection of his plant, +beginning with the sawmill. He found McNish running one of the larger +circular saws, and none too deftly. He stood observing the man for some +moments in silence. Then stepping to the workman's side he said, + +“You will save time, I think, if you do it this way.” He seized the +levers and, eliminating an unnecessary movement, ran the log. McNish +stood calmly observing. + +“Aye, yere r-right,” he said. “Ye'll have done yon before.” + +“You just bet I have,” said Maitland, not a little pleased with himself. + +“A'm no saw man,” said McNish, a little sullenly. “A dinna ken--I don't +know saws of this sort. I'm a joiner. He put me off the bench.” + +“Who?” said Maitland quickly. + +“Yon manny,” replied McNish with unmistakable disgust. + +“You were on the bench, eh? What sort of work were you on?” + +“A was daein' a bit counter work. A wasna fast enough for him.” + +Mr. Maitland called the head sawyer. + +“Put a man on here for a while, Powell, will you? You come with me, +McNish.” + +Together they went into the planing mill. Asking for the foreman he +found that he was nowhere to be seen, that indeed he had not been in the +mill that morning. + +“Show me your work, McNish,” he said. + +McNish led him to a corner of the mill where some fine counter work was +in process. + +“That's my work,” he said, pointing to a piece of oak railing. + +Maitland, turning the work over in his hands, ran his finger along a +joint somewhat clumsily fitted. + +“Not that,” said McNish hastily. “Ma work stops here.” + +Again Maitland examined the rail. His experienced eye detected easily +the difference in the workmanship. + +“Is there anything else of yours about here?” he asked. McNish went to +a pile of finished work and from it selected a small swing door +beautifully panelled. Maitland's eye gleamed. + +“Ah, that's better,” he said. “Yes, that's better.” + +He turned to one of the workmen at the bench near by. + +“What job is this, Gibbon?” he asked. + +“It's the Bank job, I think,” said Gibbon. + +“What? The Merchants' Bank job? Surely that can't be. That job was +due two weeks ago.” Maitland turned impatiently toward an older man. +“Ellis,” he said sharply, “do you know what job this is?” + +Ellis came and turned over the different parts of the work. + +“That's the Merchants' Bank job, sir,” he said. + +“Then what is holding this up?” enquired Maitland wrathfully. + +“It's the turned work, I think, sir. I am not sure, but I think I heard +Mr. Perrotte asking about that two or three days ago.” Mr. Maitland's +lips met in a thin straight line. + +“You can go back to your saw, McNish,” he said shortly. + +“Ay, sir,” said McNish, his tone indicating quiet satisfaction. At +Gibbon's bench he paused. “Ye'll no pit onything past him, a doot,” he +said, with a grim smile, and passed out. + +In every part of the shop Mr. Maitland found similar examples of +mismanagement and lack of co-ordination in the various departments of +the work. It needed no more than a cursory inspection to convince him +that a change of foreman was a simple necessity. Everywhere he found not +only evidence of waste of time but also of waste of material. It cut him +to the heart to see beautiful wood mangled and ruined. All his life he +had worked with woods of different kinds. He knew them standing in all +their matchless grandeur, in the primeval forest and had followed them +step by step all the way to the finished product. Never without a heart +pang did he witness a noble white pine, God's handiwork of centuries, +come crashing to earth through the meaner growth beneath the chopper's +axe. The only thing that redeemed such a deed from sacrilege, in his +mind, was to see the tree fittingly transformed into articles of beauty +and worth suitable for man's use. Hence, when he saw lying here and +there deformed and disfigured fragments of the exquisitely grained white +spruce, which during the war, he had with such care selected for his +aeroplane parts, his very heart rose in indignant wrath. And filled with +this wrath he made his way to the office and straightway summoned Wickes +and his son Jack to conference. + +“Tony will never make a worker in wood. He cares nothing for it,” he +said bitterly. + +“Nor in anything else, Dad,” said Jack, with a little laugh. + +“You laugh, but it is no laughing matter,” said his father +reproachfully. + +“I am sorry, Father, but you know I always thought it was a mistake to +put Tony in charge of anything. Why, he might have had his commission +if he were not such an irresponsible, downwright lazy beggar. What he +needs, as my Colonel used to profanely say, is 'a good old-fashioned +Sergeant-Major to knock hell out of him'. And, believe me, Tony was a +rattling fine soldier if his officer would regularly, systematically and +effectively expel his own special devil from his system. He needs that +still.” + +“What can we do with him? I simply can't and won't dismiss him, as that +infernally efficient and coolheaded Scot demands. You heard about the +Grievance Committee?” + +“Oh, the town has the story with embellishments. Rupert Stillwell took +care to give me a picturesque account. But I would not hesitate, Dad. +Kick Tony a good swift kick once a week or so, or, if that is beneath +your dignity, fire him.” + +“But, Jack, lad, we can't do that,” said his father, greatly distressed, +“after what--” + +“Why not? He carried me out of that hell all right, and while I live I +shall remember that. But he is a selfish beggar. He hasn't the instinct +for team play. He hasn't the idea of responsibility for the team. He +gets so that he can not make himself do what he just doesn't feel like +doing. He doesn't care a tinker's curse for the other fellows in the +game with him.” + +“The man that doesn't care for other fellows will never make a foreman,” + said Mr. Maitland decisively. “But can't something be done with him?” + +“There's only one way to handle Tony,” said Jack. “I learned that +long ago in school. He was a prince of half-backs, you know, but I had +regularly to kick him about before every big match. Oh, Tony is a fine +sort but he nearly broke my heart till I nearly broke his back.” + +“That does not help much, Jack.” For the first time in his life Grant +Maitland was at a loss as to how he should handle one of his men. Were +it not for the letter in the desk at his hand he would have made short +work of Tony Perrotte. But there the letter lay and in his heart the +inerasible picture it set forth. + +“What is the special form that Tony's devilment has taken, may I ask?” + enquired Jack. + +“Well, I may say to you, what Wickes knows and has known and has tried +for three months to hide from me and from himself, Tony has made about +as complete a mess of the organization under his care in the planing +mill as can be imagined. The mill is strewn with the wreckage of +unfulfilled orders. He has no sense of time value. To-morrow is as good +as to-day, next week as this week. A foreman without a sense of time +value is no good. And he does not value material. Waste to him is +nothing. Another fatal defect. The man to whom minutes are not potential +gold and material potential product can never hope to be a manufacturer. +If only I had not been away from home! But the thing is, what is to be +done?” + +“In the words of a famous statesman much abused indeed, I suggest, 'Wait +and see.' Meantime, find some way of kicking him into his job.” + +This proved to be in the present situation a policy of wisdom. It was +Tony himself who furnished the solution. From the men supposed to be +working under his orders he learned the day following Maitland's visit +of inspection something of the details of that visit. He quickly made +up his mind that the day of reckoning could not long be postponed. None +knew better than Tony himself that he was no foreman; none so well that +he loathed the job which had been thrust upon him by the father of +the man whom he had carried out from the very mouth of hell. It was +something to his credit that he loathed himself for accepting the +position. Yet, with irresponsible procrastination, he put off the day of +reckoning. But, some ten days later, and after a night with some kindred +spirits of his own Battalion, a night prolonged into the early hours of +the working day, Tony presented himself at the office, gay, reckless, +desperate, but quite compos mentis and quite master of his means of +locomotion. + +He appeared in the outer office, still in his evening garb. + +“Mr. Wickes,” he said in solemn gravity, “please have your stenographer +take this letter.” + +Mr. Wickes, aghast, strove to hush his vibrant tones, indicating in +excited pantomime the presence of the chief in the inner office. He +might as effectively have striven to stay the East wind at that time +sweeping up the valley. + +“Are you ready, my dear?” said Tony, smiling pleasantly at the girl. +“All right, proceed. 'Dear Mr. Maitland:' Got that? 'Conscious of my +unfitness for the position of foreman in--'” + +“Hush, hush, Tony,” implored Mr. Wickes. + +Tony waved him aside. + +“What have you got, eh?” + +At that point the door opened and Grant Maitland stepped into the +office. Tony rose to his feet and, bowing with elaborate grace and +dignity, he addressed his chief. + +“Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you, in fact, I wanted to see +you but wishing to save your time I was in the very act of dictating a +communication to you.” + +“Indeed, Tony?” said Mr. Maitland gravely. + +“Yes, sir, I was on the point of dictating my resignation of my position +of foreman.” + +“Step in to the office, Tony,” said Mr. Maitland kindly and sadly. + +“I don't wish to take your time, sir,” said Tony, sobered and quieted by +Mr. Maitland's manner, “but my mind is quite made up. I--” + +“Come in,” said Mr. Maitland, in a voice of quiet command, throwing open +his office door. “I wish to speak to you.” + +“Oh, certainly, sir,” answered Tony, pulling himself together with an +all too obvious effort. + +In half an hour Tony came forth, a sober and subdued man. + +“Good-bye, Wickes,” he said, “I'm off.” + +“Where are you going, Tony?” enquired Wickes, startled at the look on +Tony's face. + +“To hell,” he snapped, “where such fools as me belong,” and, jamming his +hat hard down on his head, he went forth. + +In another minute Mr. Maitland appeared at the office door. + +“Wickes,” he said sharply, “put on your hat and get Jack for me. Bring +him, no matter what he's at. That young fool who has just gone out must +be looked after. The boot-leggers have been taking him in tow. If I had +only known sooner. Did you know, Wickes, how he has been going on? Why +didn't you report to me?” + +“I hesitated to do that, sir,” putting his desk in order. “I always +expected as how he would pull up. It's his company, sir. He is not so +much to blame.” + +“Well, he would not take anything I had to offer. He is wild to get +away. And unfortunately he has some money with him, too. But get Jack +for me. He can handle him if anybody can.” + +Sorely perplexed Mr. Maitland returned to his office. His business sense +pointed the line of action with sunlight clearness. His sense of justice +to the business for which he was responsible as well as to the men +in his employ no less clearly indicated the action demanded. His sane +judgment concurred in the demand of his men for the dismissal of his +foreman. Dismissal had been rendered unnecessary by Tony's unshakable +resolve to resign his position which he declared he loathed and which +he should never have accepted. His perplexity arose from the confusion +within himself. What should he do with Tony? He had no position in his +works or in the office for which he was fit. None knew this better than +Tony himself. + +“It's a joke, Mr. Maitland,” he had declared, “a ghastly joke. Everybody +knows it's a joke, that I should be in command of any man when I can't +command myself. Besides, I can't stick it.” In this resolve he had +persisted in spite of Mr. Maitland's entreaties that he should give the +thing another try, promising him all possible guidance and backing. But +entreaties and offers of assistance had been in vain. Tony was wild +to get away from the mill. He hated the grind. He wanted his freedom. +Vainly Mr. Maitland had offered to find another position for him +somewhere, somehow. + +“We'll find a place in the office for you,” he had pleaded. “I want to +see you get on, Tony. I want to see you make good.” + +But Tony was beyond all persuasion. + +“It isn't in me,” he had declared. “Not if you gave me the whole works +could I stick it.” + +“Take a few days to think it over,” Mr. Maitland had pleaded. + +“I know myself--only too well. Ask Jack, he knows,” was Tony's bitter +answer. “And that's final.” + +“No, Tony, it is not final,” had been Mr. Maitland's last word, as Tony +had left him. + +But after the young man had left him there still remained the unsolved +question, What was he to do with Tony? In Mr. Maitland's heart was the +firm resolve that he would not allow Tony to go his own way. The letter +in the desk at his hand forbade that. + +At his wits' end he had sent for Jack. Jack had made a football +half-back and a hockey forward out of Tony when everyone else had +failed. If anyone could divert him from that desperate downward course +to which he seemed headlong bent, it was Jack. + +In a few minutes Wickes returned with the report that on receiving an +account of what had happened Jack had gone to look up Tony. + +Mr. Maitland drew a breath of relief. + +“Tony is all right for to-day,” he said, turning to his work and leaving +the problem for the meantime to Jack. + +In an hour Jack reported that he had been to the Perrotte home and had +interviewed Tony's mother. From her he had learned that Tony had left +the town, barely catching the train to Toronto. He might not return for +a week or ten days. He could set no time for it. He was his own master +as to time. He had got to the stage where he could go and come pretty +much as he pleased. The mother was not at all concerned as to these +goings and comings of her son. He had an assured position, all cause for +anxiety in regard to him was at an end. Tony's mother was obviously not +a little uplifted that her son should be of sufficient importance to be +entrusted with business in Toronto in connection with the mill. + +All of which tended little toward relieving the anxiety of Mr. Maitland. + +“Let him take his swing, Dad, for a bit,” was Jack's advice. “He will +come back when he is ready, and until then wild horses won't bring him +nor hold him. He is no good for his old job, and you have no other ready +that he will stick at. He has no Sergeant-Major now to knock him about +and make him keep step, more's the pity.” + +“Life will be his Sergeant-Major, I fear,” said his father, “and a +Sergeant-Major that will exact the utmost limit of obedience or make him +pay the price. All the same, we won't let him go. I can't Jack, anyway.” + +“Oh, Tony will turn up, never fear, Dad,” said Jack easily. + +With this assurance his father had to content himself. In a fortnight's +time a letter came from Tony to his sister, rosy with the brilliance of +the prospects opening up before him. There was the usual irresponsible +indefiniteness in detail. What he was doing and how he was living Tony +did not deign to indicate. Ten days later Annette had another letter. +The former prospects had not been realised, but he had a much better +thing in view, something more suitable to him, and offering larger +possibilities of position and standing in the community. So much Annette +confided to her mother who passed on the great news with elaborations +and annotations to Captain Jack. To Captain Jack himself Annette gave +little actual information. Indeed, shorn of its element of prophecy, +there was little in Tony's letter that could be passed on. Nor did +Annette drop any hint but that all was quite well with her brother, much +less that he had suggested a temporary loan of fifty dollars but only +of course if she could spare the amount with perfect convenience. After +this letter there was silence as far as Tony was concerned and for +Annette anxiety that deepened into agony as the silence remained +unbroken with the passing weeks. + +With the anxiety there mingled in Annette's heart anger at the +Maitlands, for she blamed them for Tony's dismissal from his position. +This, it is fair to say, was a reflection from her mother's wrath, whose +mind had been filled up with rumours from the mills to the effect that +her son had been “fired.” Annette was wise enough and knew her brother +well enough to discredit much that rumour brought to her ears, but she +could not rid herself of the thought that a way might have been found to +hold Tony about the mills. + +“He fired the boy, did the ould carmudgeon,” said Madame Perrotte in one +of her rages, “and druv him off from the town.” + +“Nonsense, Mother,” Annette had replied, “you know well enough Tony +left of his own accord. Why should you shame him so? He went because he +wanted to go.” + +This was a new light upon the subject for her mother. + +“Thrue for you, Annette, gurl,” she said, “an' ye said it that time. But +why for did he not induce the bye to remain? It would be little enough +if he had made him the Manager of the hull works. That same would never +pay back what he did for his son.” + +“Hush, Mother,” said Annette, in a shocked and angry voice, “let no one +hear you speak like that. Pay back! You know, Mother, nothing could ever +pay back a thing like that.” The anger in her daughter's voice startled +the mother. + +“Oui! by gar!” said Perrotte, who had overheard, with quick wrath. +“Dat's foolish talk for sure! Dere's no man can spik lak dat to me, or I +choke him on his fool t'roat, me.” + +“Right you are, mon pere!” said Annette appeasing her father. “Mother +did not think what she was saying.” + +“Dat's no bon,” replied Perrotte, refusing to be appeased. “Sacre +tonnerre! Dat's one--what you call?--damfool speech. Dat boy Tony he's +carry (h)on hees back his friend, le Capitaine Jack, an' le Capitaine, +he's go five mile for fin' Tony on' de shell hole an' fetch heem to le +docteur and stay wit' him till he's fix (h)up. Nom de Dieu! You pay for +dat! Mama! You mak' shame for me on my heart!” cried the old Frenchman, +beating his breast, while sobs shook his voice. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +FREE SPEECH + + +Fifty years ago Blackwater town was a sawmill village on the Blackwater +River which furnished the power for the first little sawmill set up by +Grant Maitland's father. + +Down the river came the sawlogs in the early spring when the water was +high, to be caught and held by a “boom” in a pond from which they were +hauled up a tramway to the saw. A quarter of a mile up stream a mill +race, tapping the river, led the water to an “overshot wheel” in the +early days, later to a turbine, thus creating the power necessary to +drive the mill machinery. When the saw was still the water overflowed +the “stop-logs” by the “spillway” into the pond below. + +But that mill race furnished more than power to the mill. It furnished +besides much colourful romance to the life of the village youth of those +early days. For down the mill race they ran their racing craft, jostling +and screaming, urging with long poles their laggard flotillas to +victory. The pond by the mill was to the boys “swimming hole” and +fishing pool, where, during the long summer evenings and through the +sunny summer days, they spent amphibious hours in high and serene +content. But in springtime when the pond was black with floating logs +it became the scene of thrilling deeds of daring. For thither came the +lumber-jacks, fresh from “the shanties,” in their dashing, multi-colored +garb, to “show off” before admiring friends and sweethearts their skill +in “log-running” and “log-rolling” contests which as the spirit of +venture grew would end like as not in the icy waters of the pond. + +Here, too, on brilliant winter days the life of the village found its +centre of vivid interest and activity. For then the pond would be a +black and glittering surface whereon wheeled and curved the ringing, +gleaming blades of “fancy” skaters or whereon in sterner hours opposing +“shinny” teams sought glory in Homeric and often gory contest. + +But those days and those scenes were now long since gone. The old mill +stood a picturesque ruin, the water wheel had given place to the +steam engine, the pond had shrunk to an insignificant pool where only +pollywogs and minnows passed unadventurous lives, the mill race had +dwindled to a trickling stream grown thick with watercress and yellow +lilies, and what had once been the centre of vigorous and romantic life +was now a back water eddy devoid alike of movement and of colour. + +A single bit of life remained--the little log cottage, once the +Manager's house a quarter of a century ago, still stood away up among +the pines behind the old mill ruin and remote from the streets and homes +of the present town. At the end of a little grassy lane it stood, solid +and square, resisting with its well hewn pinelogs the gnawing tooth of +time. Abandoned by the growing town, forgotten by the mill owner, it was +re-discovered by Malcolm McNish, or rather by his keen eyed old mother +on their arrival from the old land six months ago. For a song McNish +bought the solid little cottage, he might have had it as a gift but that +he would not, restored its roof, cleared out its stone chimney which, +more than anything else, had caught the mother's eye, re-set the window +panes, added a wee cunning porch, gave its facings a coat of paint, +enclosed its bit of flower garden in front and its “kale yaird” in the +rear with a rustic paling, and made it, when the Summer had done its +work, a bonnie homelike spot which caught the eye and held the heart of +the passer-by. + +The interior more than fulfilled the promise of the exterior. The big +living room with its great stone fireplace welcomed you on opening the +porch door. From the living room on the right led two doors, each giving +entrance to a tiny bedroom and flanking a larger room known as “the +Room.” + +Within the living room were gathered the household treasures, the Lares +and Penates of the little stone rose-covered cottage “at hame awa' ayont +the sea.” On the mantel a solid hewn log of oak, a miracle of broad-axe +work, were “bits o' chiny” rarely valuable as antiques to the knowing +connoisseur but beyond price to the old white-haired lady who daily +dusted them with reverent care as having been borne by her mother from +the Highland home in the far north country when as a bride she came by +the “cadger's cairt” to her new home in the lonely city of Glasgow. Of +that Glasgow home and of her own home later the walls of the log cottage +were eloquent. + +The character giving bit of furniture, however, in the living room was +a book-case that stood in a corner. Its beautiful inlaid cabinet work +would in itself have attracted attention, but not the case but the books +were its distinction. The great English poets were represented there +in serviceable bindings showing signs of use, Shakespeare, Wordsworth, +Coleridge, Browning, Keats, and with them in various editions, Burns. +Beside the poets Robert Louis had a place, and Sir Walter, as well as +Kipling and Meredith and other moderns. But on the shelf that showed +most wear were to be found the standard works of economists of different +schools from the great Adam Smith to Marx and the lot of his imitators +and disciples. This was Malcolm's book-case. There was in another corner +near the fire-place a little table and above it hung a couple of shelves +for books of another sort, the Bible and The Westminster Confession, +Bunyan and Baxter and Fox's Book of Martyrs, Rutherford and McCheyne and +Law, The Ten Years' Conflict, Spurgeon's Sermons and Smith's Isaiah, and +a well worn copy of the immortal Robbie. This was the mother's corner, +a cosy spot where she nourished her soul by converse with the great +masters of thought and of conscience. + +In this “cosy wee hoosie” Malcolm McNish and his mother passed their +quiet evenings, for the days were given to toil, in talk, not to say +discussion of the problems, the rights and wrongs of the working man. +They agreed in much; they differed, and strongly, in point of view. The +mother was all for reform of wrongs with the existing economic system, +reverencing the great Adam Smith. The son was for a new deal, a new +system, the Socialistic, with modifications all his own. All, or almost +all, that Malcolm had read the mother had read with the exception of +Marx. She “cudna thole yon godless loon” or his theories or his works. +Malcolm had grown somewhat sick of Marx since the war. Indeed, the war +had seriously disturbed the foundations of Malcolm's economic faith, and +he was seeking a readjustment of his opinion and convictions, which were +rather at loose ends. In this state of mind he found little comfort from +his shrewd old mother. + +“Y'e have nae anchor, laddie, and ilka woof of air and ilka turn o' the +tide and awa' ye go.” + +As for her anchor, she made no bones of announcing that she had +been brought up on the Shorter Catechism and the Confession and in +consequence found a place for every theory of hers, Social and Economic +as well as Ethical and Religious, within the four corners of the mighty +fabric of the Calvinistic system of Philosophy and Faith. + +One of the keen joys of her life since coming to the new country she +found in her discussions with the Rev. Murdo Matheson, whom, after some +considerable hesitation, she had finally chosen to “sit under.” The Rev. +Murdo's theology was a little narrow for her. She had been trained in +the schools of the Higher Critics of the Free Kirk leaders at home. +She talked familiarly of George Adam Smith, whom she affectionately +designated as “George Adam.” She would wax wrathful over the memory of +the treatment meted out to Robertson Smith by a former generation of +Free Kirk heresy hunters. Hence she regarded with pity the hesitation +with which her Minister accepted some of the positions of the Higher +Critics. Although it is to be confessed that the war had somewhat rudely +shattered her devotion to German theology. + +“What d'ye think o' yere friend Harnack the noo?” her son had jibed at +her soon after the appearance of the great manifesto from the German +professors. + +“What do A think o' him?” she answered, sparring for time. “What do A +think o' him?” Then, as her eye ran over her son's uniform, for he was +on leave at the time, she blazed forth, “A'll tell ye what A think +o' him. A think that Auld Hornie has his hook intil him and the hale +kaboodle o' them. They hae forsaken God and made tae themselves ither +gods and the Almichty hae gi'en them ower tae a reprobate mind.” + +But her Canadian Minister's economic positions satisfied her. He had +specialised in Social and Economic Science in his University Course and +she considered him sound “in the main.” + +She had little patience with half baked theorists and none at all with +mere agitators. It was therefore with no small indignation that she saw +on a Sunday morning Mr. Wigglesworth making his way up the lane toward +her house door. + +“The Lord be guid tae us!” she exclaimed. “What brings yon cratur +here--and on a Sabbath mornin'? Mind you, Malcolm,” she continued in +a voice of sharp decision, “A'll hae nane o' his 'rights o' British +citizens' clack the morn.” + +“Who is it, Mother?” enquired her son, coming from his room to look out +through the window. “Oh, dinna fash ye're heid ower yon windbag,” he +added, dropping into his broadest Doric and patting his mother on the +shoulder. + +“He disna fash me,” said his mother. “Nae fears. But A'll no pairmit +him to brak the Sabbath in this hoose, A can tell ye.” None the less she +opened the door to Mr. Wigglesworth with dignified courtesy. + +“Guid mornin', Mr. Wigglesworth,” she said cordially. “Ye're airly on +yere way tae the Kirk.” + +“Yes--that is--yes,” replied Mr. Wigglesworth in some confusion, “I am a +bit (h)early. Fact is, I was (h)anxious to catch Malcolm before 'e +went aht. I 'ave a rather (h)important business on 'and with 'im, very +(h)important business, I might say.” + +“'Business,' did ye say, Mr. Wigglesworth?” Mrs. McNish stood facing him +at the door. “Business! On the Lord's Day?” + +Mr. Wigglesworth gaped at her, hat in hand. + +“Well, Mrs. McNish, not (h)exactly business. That is,” he said with an +apologetic smile, “(h)it depends, you see, just w'at yeh puts (h)into a +word, Mrs. McNish.” + +Mr. Wigglesworth's head went over to one side as if in contemplation of +a new and striking idea. + +“A pit nae meaning into a word that's no in it on its ain accoont,” she +replied with uncompromising grimness. “Business is just business, an' my +son diz nae business on the Lord's Day.” + +There was no place for casuistry in the old Scotch lady's mind. A thing +was or was not, and there was an end to that. + +“Certainly, Mrs. McNish, certainly! And so sez I. But there might be a +slight difference of (h)opinion between you and I, so to speak, as +to just w'at may constitute 'business.' Now, for (h)instance--” Mr. +Wigglesworth was warming to his subject, but the old lady standing on +her doorstep fixed her keen blue eyes upon him and ruthlessly swept away +all argumentation on the matter. + +“If it is a matter consistent with the Lord's Day, come in; if not, stay +oot.” + +“Oh! Yes, thank you. By the way, is your son in, by (h)any chance? +Per'raps 'e's shavin' 'isself, eh?” Mr. Wigglesworth indulged in a +nervous giggle. + +“Shavin' himsel!” exclaimed Mrs. McNish. “On the Sawbath! Man, d'ye +think he's a heathen, then?” Mrs. McNish regarded the man before her +with severity. + +“An 'eathen? Not me! I should consider it an 'eathenish practice to go +dirty of a Sunday,” said Mr. Wigglesworth triumphantly. + +“Hoots, man, wha's talkin' about gaein' dirty? Can ye no mak due +preparation on the Saturday? What is yere Saturday for?” + +This was a new view to Mr. Wigglesworth and rather abashed him. + +“What is it, Mother?” Malcolm's voice indicated a desire to appease the +wrath that gleamed in his mother's eye. “Oh, it is Mr. Wigglesworth. +Yes, yes! I want to see Mr. Wigglesworth. Will you come in, Mr. +Wigglesworth?” + +“Malcolm, A was jist tellin' Mr. Wigglesworth--” + +“Yes, yes, I know, Mother, but I want--” + +“Malcolm, ye ken what day it is. And A wull not--” + +“Yes, Mother, A ken weel, but--” + +“And ye ken ye'll be settin' oot for the Kirk in half an oor--” + +“Half an hour, Mother? Why, it is only half past nine--” + +“A ken weel what it is. But A dinna like tae be fashed and flustered in +ma mind on ma way till the Hoose o' God.” + +“I shall only require a very few moments, Madam,” said Mr. Wigglesworth. +“The matter with w'ich I am (h)entrusted need not take more than a +minute or two. In fact, I simply want to (h)announce a special, a very +special meetin' of the Union this (h)afternoon.” + +“A releegious meetin', Mr. Wigglesworth?” enquired Mrs. McNish. + +“Well--not exactly--that is--I don't know but you might call it a +religious meetin'. To my mind, Mrs. McNish, you know--” + +But Mrs. McNish would have no sophistry. + +“Mr. Wigglesworth,” she began sternly. + +But Malcolm cut in. + +“Now, Mother, I suppose it's a regular enough meeting. Just wait till I +get my hat, Mr. Wigglesworth. I'll be with you.” + +His mother followed him into the house, leaving Mr. Wigglesworth at the +door. + +“Malcolm,” she began with solemn emphasis. + +“Now, now, Mother, surely you know me well enough by this time to trust +my judgment in a matter of this kind,” said her son, hurriedly searching +for his hat. + +“Ay, but A'm no sae sure o' yon buddie--” + +“Hoot, toot,” said her son, passing out. “A'll be back in abundant time +for the Kirk, Mither. Never you fear.” + +“Weel, weel, laddie, remember what day it is. Ye ken weel it's no day +for warldly amusement.” + +“Ay, Mither,” replied her son, smiling a little at the associating of +Mr. Wigglesworth with amusement of any sort on any day. + +In abundance of time Malcolm was ready to allow a quiet, unhurried walk +with his mother which would bring them to the church a full quarter of +an hour before the hour of service. + +It happened that the Rev. Murdo was on a congenial theme and in +specially good form that morning. + +“How much better is a man than a sheep,” was his text, from which with +great ingenuity and eloquence he proceeded to develop the theme of the +supreme value of the human factor in modern life, social and industrial. +With great cogency he pressed the argument against the inhuman and +degrading view that would make man a mere factor in the complex problem +of Industrial Finance, a mere inanimate cog in the Industrial Machine. + +“What did you think of the sermon, Mother?” asked Malcolm as they +entered the quiet lane leading home. + +“No sae bad, laddie, no sae bad. Yon's an able laddie, especially on +practical themes. Ay, it was no that bad,” replied his mother with +cautious approval. + +“What about his view of the Sabbath?” + +“What about it? Wad ye no lift a sheep oot o' the muck on the Sawbath?” + +“A would, of course,” replied Malcolm. + +“Weel, what?” + +“A was jist thinkin' o' Mr. Wigglesworth this morning.” + +“Yon man!” + +“You were rather hard on him this morning', eh, Mither?” + +“Hard on him? He's no a sheep, nor in some ways as guid's a sheep, A +grant ye that, but such as he is was it no ma duty to pull him oot o' +the mire o' Sawbath desecration and general ungodliness?” + +“Aw, Mither, Mither! Ye're incorrigible! Ye ought to come to the meeting +this afternoon and give them all a lug out.” + +“A wull that then,” said his mother heartily. “They need it, A doot.” + +“Hoots! Nonsense, Mither!” said her son hastily, knowing well how +thoroughly capable she was of not only going to a meeting of Union +workers but also of speaking her mind if in her judgment they were +guilty of transgressing the Sabbath law. “The meeting will be just as +religious as Mr. Matheson's anyway.” + +“A'm no sae sure,” said his mother grimly. + +Whether religious in the sense understood by Mrs. McNish, the meeting +was not wanting in ethical interest or human passion. It was a gathering +of the workers in the various industries in the town, Trade Unionists +most of them, but with a considerable number who had never owed +allegiance to any Union and a number of disgruntled ex-Unionists. These +latter were very vociferous and for the most part glib talkers, with +passions that under the slightest pressure spurted foaming to the +surface. Returned soldiers there were who had taken on their old jobs +but who had not yet settled down into the colourless routine of mill and +factory work under the discipline of those who often knew little of +the essentials of discipline as these men knew them. A group of +French-Canadian factory hands, taken on none too willingly in the +stress of war work, constituted an element of friction, for the soldiers +despised and hated them. With these there mingled new immigrants from +the shipyards and factories of the Old Land, all members or ex-members +of Trade Unions, Socialists in training and doctrine, familiar with the +terminology and jargon of those Socialistic debating schools, the Local +Unions of England and Scotland, alert, keen, ready of wit and ready +of tongue, rejoicing in wordy, passionate debate, ready for anything, +fearing nothing. + +The occasion of the meeting was the presence of a great International +Official of the American Federation of Labour, and its purpose to +strengthen International Unionism against the undermining of guerilla +bands of non-Unionists and very especially against the new organizations +emanating from the far West, the One Big Union. + +At the door of the hall stood Mr. Wigglesworth, important, fussy +and unctuously impressive, welcoming, directing, introducing and, +incidentally but quite ineffectively, seeking to inspire with respect +for his august person a nondescript crowd of small boys vainly seeking +entrance. With an effusiveness amounting to reverence he welcomed McNish +and directed him in a mysterious whisper toward a seat on the platform, +which, however, McNish declined, choosing a seat at the side about half +way up the aisle. + +A local Union official was addressing the meeting but saying nothing in +particular, and simply filling in till the main speaker should arrive. +McNish, quite uninterested in the platform, was quietly taking note of +the audience, with many of whom he had made a slight acquaintance. As +his eye travelled slowly from face to face it was suddenly arrested. +There beside her father was Annette Perrotte, who greeted him with a +bright nod and smile. They had long ago made up their tiff. Then McNish +had another surprise. At the door of the hall appeared Captain Jack +Maitland who, after coolly surveying the room, sauntered down the aisle +and took a seat at his side. He nodded to McNish. + +“Quite a crowd, McNish,” he said. “I hear the American Johnnie is quite +a spouter so I came along to hear.” + +McNish looked at him and silently nodded. He could not understand his +presence at that kind of a meeting. + +“You know I am a Union man now,” said Captain Jack, accurately reading +his silence. “Joined a couple of months ago.” + +But McNish kept his face gravely non-committal, wondering how it was +that this important bit of news had not reached him. Then he remembered +that he had not attended the last two monthly meetings of his Union, +and also he knew that little gossip of the shops came his way. None +the less, he was intensely interested in Maitland's appearance. He +did Captain Jack the justice to acquit him of anything but the most +honourable intentions, yet he could not make clear to his mind what end +the son of his boss could serve by joining a Labour Union. He finally +came to the conclusion that this was but another instance of an +“Intellectual” studying the social and economic side of Industry from +first-hand observation. It was a common enough thing in the Old Land. +He was conscious of a little contempt for this dilettante sort of Labour +Unionism, and he was further conscious of a feeling of impatience and +embarrassment at Captain Jack's presence. He belonged to the enemy camp, +and what right had he there? From looks cast in their direction it was +plain that others were asking the same question. His thought received a +sudden and unexpected exposition from the platform from no less a person +than Mr. Wigglesworth himself to whom as one of the oldest officials in +Unionised Labour in the town had been given the honour of introducing +the distinguished visitor and delegate. + +In flowing periods and with a reckless but wholly unauthorised +employment of aspirates he “welcomed the (h)audience, (h)especially the +ladies, and other citizens among 'oom 'e was delighted to (h)observe +a representative of the (h)employing class 'oo was for the present 'e +believed one of themselves.” To his annoyed embarrassment Captain Jack +found himself the observed of many eyes, friendly and otherwise. “But 'e +would assure Captain Maitland that although 'e might feel as if 'e 'ad +no right to be 'ere--” + +“'Ere! 'Ere!” came a piercing voice in unmistakable approval, +galvanising the audience out of its apathy into instant emotional +intensity. + +“(H)I want most (h)emphatically to (h)assure Captain Maitland,” + continued Mr. Wigglesworth, frowning heavily upon the interrupter, “that +'e is as welcome--” + +“No! No!” cried the same Cockney voice, followed by a slight rumbling +applause. + +“I say 'e is,” shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, supported by hesitating +applause. + +“No! No! We don't want no toffs 'ere.” This was followed by more +definite applause from the group immediately surrounding the speaker. + +Mr. Wigglesworth was much affronted and proceeded to administer a rebuke +to the interrupter. + +“I (h)am surprised,” he began, with grieved and solemn emphasis. + +“Mr. Chairman,” said the owner of the Cockney voice, rising to his +feet and revealing himself a small man with large head and thin wizened +features, “Mr. Chairman, I rise to protest right 'ere an' naow against +the presence of (h)any representative of the (h)enemy class at--” + +“Aw, shut up!” yelled a soldier, rising from his place. “Throw out the +little rat!” + +Immediately there was uproar. On every side returned soldiers, many of +whom had been in Captain Jack's battalion, sprang up and began moving +toward the little Cockney who, boldly standing his ground, was wildly +appealing to the chair and was supported by the furious cheering of a +group of his friends, Old Country men most of whom, as it turned out, +were of the extreme Socialist type. By this time it had fully been borne +in upon Captain Jack's mind, somewhat dazed by the unexpected attack, +that he was the occasion of the uproar. Rising from his place he tried +vainly to catch the Chairman's attention. + +“Come up to the platform,” said a voice in his ear. He turned and saw +McNish shouldering his way through the excited crowd toward the front. +After a moment's hesitation he shrugged his shoulders and followed. The +move caught the eye and apparently the approval of the audience, for it +broke into cheers which gathered in volume till by the time that McNish +and Captain Jack stood on the platform the great majority were wildly +yelling their enthusiastic approval of their action. McNish stood with +his hand raised for a hearing. Almost instantly there fell a silence +intense and expectant. The Scotchman stood looking in the direction of +the excited Cockney with cold steady eye. + +“A'm for freedom! The right of public assembly! A'm feart o' nae enemy, +not the deevil himself. This gentleman is a member of my Union and he +stays r-r-right he-e-r-re.” With a rasping roll of his r's he seemed to +be ripping the skin off the little Cockney's very flesh. The response +was a yell of savage cheers which seemed to rock the building and which +continued while Mr. Wigglesworth in overflowing effusiveness first shook +Maitland's limp hand in a violent double-handed pump handle exercise and +then proceeded to introduce him to the distinguished visitor, shouting +his name in Maitland's ear, “Mr 'Oward (H)E. Bigelow,” adding with a +sudden inspiration, “(H)Introduce 'im to the (h)audience. Yes! Yes! Most +(h)assuredly,” and continued pushing both men toward the front of the +platform, the demonstration increasing in violence. + +“I say, old chap,” shouted Captain Jack in the stranger's ear, “I feel +like a fool.” + +“I feel like a dozen of 'em,” shouted Mr. Bigelow in return. “But,” he +added with a slow wink, “this old fool is the daddy of 'em all. Go on, +introduce me, or they'll bust something loose.” + +Captain Jack took one step to the front of the platform and held up +his hand. The cheering assumed an even greater violence, then ceased in +sudden breathless silence. + +“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a slightly bored voice, “this +gentleman is Mr. Howard E. Bigelow, a representative of the American +Federation of Labour, whom as a member of the Woodworkers' Union, Local +197, I am anxious to hear if you don't mind.” + +He bowed to the visitor, bowed to the audience once more swaying under a +tempest of cheers, and, followed by McNish, made his way to his seat. + +From the first moment of his speech Mr. Howard E. Bigelow had to fight +for a hearing. The little Cockney was the centre of a well-organised and +thoroughly competent body of obstructers who by clever “heckling,” + by points of order, by insistent questioning, by playing now upon the +anti-American string, now upon the anti-Federation string, by ribald +laughter, by cheering a happy criticism, completely checked every +attempt of the speaker to take flight in his oratory. The International +official was evidently an old hand in this sort of game, but in the +hands of these past masters in the art of obstruction he met more than +his match. Maitland was amazed at his patience, his self-control, his +adroitness, but they were all in vain. At last he was forced to appeal +to the Chairman for British fair play. But the Chairman was helplessly +futile and his futility was only emphasised by Mr. Wigglesworth's +attempts now at browbeating which were met with derision and again at +entreaty which brought only demands for ruling on points of order, till +the meeting was on the point of breaking up in confused disorder. + +“McNish, I think I'll take a hand in this,” said Captain Jack in the +Scotchman's ear. “Are you game?” + +“Wait a wee,” said McNish, getting to his feet. Slowly he once more +made his way to the platform. As the crowd caught on to his purpose they +broke into cheering. When he reached the side of the speaker he spoke a +word in his ear, then came to the front with his hand held up. There +was instant quiet. He looked coolly over the excited, disintegrating +audience for a moment or two. + +“A belonged tae the Feefty-fir-rst Diveesion,” he said in his richest +Doric. “We had a rare time wi' bullies over there. A'm for free speech! +Noo, listen tae me, you Cockney wheedle doodle. Let another cheep out o' +yere trap an' the Captain there will fling ye oot o' this room as we did +the Kayser oot o' France.” + +“You said it, McNish,” said Maitland, leaping to the aisle. With a roar +a dozen returned men were on their feet. + +“Steady, squad!” rang out Captain Jack's order. “Fall into this aisle! +Shun!” As if on parade the soldiers fell into line behind their captain. + +“Macnamara!” he said, pointing to a huge Irishman. + +“Sir!” said Macnamara. + +“You see that little rat-faced chap?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Take your place beside him.” + +With two steps Macnamara was beside his man. + +“Mr. Chairman, I protest,” began the little Cockney fiercely. + +“Pass him up,” said the Captain sharply. + +With one single motion Macnamara's hand swept the little man out of his +place into the aisle. + +“Chuck him out!” said Captain Jack quietly. + +From hand to hand, with never a pause, amid the jeers and laughter of +the crowd the little man was passed along like a bundle of old rags till +he disappeared through the open door. + +“Who's next?” shouted Macnamara joyfully. + +“As you were!” came the sharp command. + +At once Macnamara stood at attention. + +Captain Jack nodded to the platform. + +“All right,” he said quietly. + +Mr. Howard E. Bigelow finished his speech in peace. He made appeal for +the closing up of the ranks of Labour in preparation for the big fight +which was rapidly coming. They had just finished with Kaiserism in +Europe but they were faced with only another form of the same spirit +in their own land. They wanted no more fighting, God knew they had had +enough of that, but there were some things dearer than peace, and Labour +was resolved to get and to hold those things which they had fought for, +“which you British and especially you Canadians shed so much blood to +win. We are making no threats, but we are not going to stand for tyranny +at the hands of any man or any class of men in this country. Only one +thing will defeat us, not the traditional enemies of our class +but disunion in our own ranks due to the fool tactics of a lot of +disgruntled and discredited traitors like the man who has just been +fired from this meeting.” He asked for a committee which would take the +whole situation in hand. He closed with a promise that in any struggle +which they undertook under the guidance of their International Officers +the American Federation of Labour to their last dollar would be behind +them. + +Before the formal closing of the meeting Maitland slipped quietly out. +As he reached the sidewalk a light hand touched his arm. Turning he +saw at his elbow Annette, her face aglow and her black eyes ablaze with +passionate admiration. + +“Oh, Captain Jack,” she panted, her hands outstretched, “you were just +wonderful! Splendid! Oh! I don't know what to say! I--” She paused in +sudden confusion. A hot colour flamed in her face. Maitland took her +hands in his. + +“Hello, Annette! I saw you there. Why! What's up, little girl?” + +A sudden rush of tears had filled her eyes. + +“Oh, nothing. I am just excited, I guess. I don't know what--” She +pulled her hands away. “But you were great!” She laughed shrilly. + +“Oh, it was your friend McNish did the trick,” said Captain Jack. “Very +neat bit of work that, eh? Very neat indeed. Awfully clever chap! Are +you going home now?” + +“No, I am waiting.” She paused shyly. + +“Oh, I see!” said Captain Jack with a smile. “Lucky chap, by Jove!” + +“I am waiting for my father,” said Annette, tossing her head. + +“Oh, then, if that's all, come along with me. Your father knows his way +about.” The girl paused a moment, hesitating. Then with a sudden resolve +she cried gaily, + +“Well, I will. I want to talk to you about it. Oh, I am so excited!” + She danced along at his side in gay abandon. As they turned at the first +corner Maitland glanced over his shoulder. + +“Hello! Here's McNish,” he cried, turning about. “Shall we wait for +him?” + +“Oh, never mind Malcolm,” cried the girl excitedly, “come along. I don't +want him just now. I want--” She checked herself abruptly. “I want to +talk to you.” + +“Oh, all right,” said Captain Jack. “He's gone back anyway. Come along +Annette, old girl. I have been wanting to see you for a long time.” + +“Well, you see me,” said the girl, laughing up into his eyes with a +frank, warm admiration in hers that made Captain Jack's heart quicken a +bit in its steady beat. He was a young man with a normal appreciation of +his own worth. She, young, beautiful, unspoiled, in the innocence of her +girlish heart was flinging at him the full tribute of a warm, generous +admiration with every flash of her black eyes and every intonation of +her voice. Small wonder if Captain Jack found her good to look at and to +listen to. Often during the walk home he kept saying to himself, “Jove, +that McNish chap is a lucky fellow!” But McNish, taking his lonely way +home, was only conscious that the evening had grown chilly and grey. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE DAY BEFORE + + +Business was suspended for the day in Blackwater. That is, men went +through their accustomed movements, but their thoughts were far apart +from the matters that were supposed to occupy their minds during the +working hours of the day. In the offices, in the stores, in the shops, +on the streets, in the schools, in the homes the one, sole topic of +conversation, the one mental obsession was The Great Game. Would the +Maitland Mill Hockey Team pull it off? Blackwater was not a unit in +desiring victory for the Maitland Mill team, for the reason that the +team's present position of proud eminence in the hockey world of Eastern +Ontario had been won by a series of smashing victories over local and +neighbouring rival teams. They had first disposed of that snappy seven +of lightning lightweights, the local High School team, the champions +in their own League. They had smashed their way through the McGinnis +Foundry Seven in three Homeric contests. This victory attracted +the notice of the Blackwater Black Eagles, the gay and dashing +representatives of Blackwater's most highly gilded stratum of society, +a clever, hard-fighting, never-dying group of athletes who, summer and +winter, kept themselves in perfect form, and who had moved rapidly out +of obscurity into the dazzling spotlight of championship over their +district. For the sake of the practice in it and in preparation for +their games in the Eastern Ontario Hockey League, they took on the +Maitland Mill team. + +It took the Black Eagles a full week to recover sufficient control to be +able to speak intelligibly as to the “how” and “why” of that match. For +the Mill team with apparent ease passed in thirteen goals under and over +and behind and beside the big broad goal stick of Bell Blackwood, the +goal wonder of the League; and the single register for the Eagles had +been netted by Fatty Findlay's own stick in a moment of aberration. +During the week following the Black Eagle debacle the various Bank +managers, Law Office managers and other financial magnates of the town +were lenient with their clerks. Social functions were abandoned. The +young gentlemen had one continuous permanent and unbreakable engagement +at the rink or in preparation for it. But all was in vain. The result +of the second encounter was defeat for the Eagles, defeat utter, +unmistakable and inexplicable except on the theory that they had met a +superior team. Throughout the hockey season the Maitland Mill maintained +an unbroken record of victory till their fame flew far; and at the close +of the season enthusiasts of the game had arranged a match between the +winners of the Eastern Ontario Hockey League, the renowned Cornwall team +and the Maitland Mill boys. To-day the Cornwalls were in town, and the +town in consequence was quite unfit for the ordinary duties of life. +The Eagles almost to a man were for the local team; for they were sports +true to type. Not so however their friends and following, who resented +defeat of their men at the hands of a working class team. + +Of course it was Jack Maitland who was responsible for their +humiliation. It was he who had organised his fellow workmen, put them +through a blood and iron discipline, filled them with his own spirit of +irresistible furious abandon in attack which carried them to victory. + +It was an old game with Jack Maitland. When a High School boy he had +developed that spirit of dominating and indomitable leadership that had +made his team the glory of the town. Later by sound and steady grinding +at the game he had developed a style and plan of team play which had +produced a town team in the winter immediately preceding the war that +had won championship honors. Now with his Mill team he was simply +repeating his former achievements. + +It had astonished his friends to learn that Captain Jack was playing +hockey again. He had played no game except in a desultory way since the +war. He had resisted the united efforts of the Eagles and their women +friends to take the captaincy of that team. The mere thought of ever +appearing on the ice in hockey uniform gave him a sick feeling at his +heart. Of that noble seven whom he had in pre-war days led so often to +victory four were still “over there,” one was wandering round a +darkened room. Of the remaining two, one Rupert Stillwell was too deeply +engrossed in large financial affairs for hockey. Captain Jack himself +was the seventh, and the mere sight of a hockey stick on a school boy's +shoulder gave him a heart stab. + +It was his loyal pal Patricia Templeton, who gave him the first impulse +toward the game again. To her pleading he had yielded so far as to +coach, on a Saturday afternoon, her team of High School girls to +victory. But it was the Reverend Murdo Matheson who furnished the spur +to conscience that resulted in the organising of the Maitland Mill team. + +“You, John Maitland, more than any of us and more than all of us +together can draw these lads of yours from the pool rooms and worse,” + the Reverend Murdo had said one day in early winter. + +“Great Scott, Padre”--the Reverend Murdo had done his bit +overseas--“what are you giving me now?” + +“You, more than any or all of us, I am saying,” repeated the minister +solemnly. “For God's sake, man, get these lads on the ice or anywhere +out-of-doors for the good of their immortal souls.” + +“Me! And why me, pray?” Captain Jack had asked. “I'm no uplifter. Why +jump on me?” + +“You, because God has bestowed on you the gift to lead men,” said the +minister with increasing solemnity. “A high gift it is, and one for +which God will hold you responsible.” + +That very night, passing by the Lucky Strike Pool Rooms, Captain Jack +had turned in to find a score and more of youths--many of them from the +mills--flashing their money with reckless freedom in an atmosphere thick +with foul tobacco-smoke and reeking with profane and lewd speech. On +reaching his home that night Maitland went straight to the attic and dug +up his hockey kit. Before he slept he had laid his plans for a league +among the working lads in the various industries in the town. + +It was no easy task to force these men into training habits, to hold +them to the grind, to discipline them into self-control in temper and +in desire. It was of vast assistance to him that three of his seven +were overseas men, while some dozen or so of the twenty in the club were +returned soldiers. It was part of his discipline that his team should +never shirk a day's work for the game except on the rare occasions +when they went on tour. Hence the management in the various mills +and factories, at first hostile and suspicious, came to regard these +athletic activities on the part of their employees with approval and +finally came to give encouragement and support to the games. + +To-day was a half holiday for the Maitland Mills and the streets were +noticeably full of the men and their sweethearts and wives in their +Sunday clothes. Not the team, however. Maitland knew better than that. +He took his men for a run in the country before noon, bringing them +home in rich warm glow. Then after a bath and a hard rubdown they dined +together at the mill and then their Captain ordered them home to sleep, +forbidding them the streets till they were on their way to the game. + +On his way home Captain Jack was waylaid by his admirer and champion, +Patricia. She, standing in front of his car, brought him to a halt. + +“I have not even seen you for a whole week,” she complained, getting in +beside him, “and your phone is always busy in the evening. Of course no +one can get you during the day. And I do want to know how the team is. +Oh! do tell me they are fit for the game of their lives! Are they every +one fit?” + +“Fit and fine.” + +“And will they win?” + +“Sure thing,” said Captain Jack quietly. + +“Oh, I hope you are right. But you are so sure,” exclaimed his +companion. “The Cornwalls are wonderful, Rupert says.” + +“He would.” + +“Oh! I forgot you don't think much of Rupert,” sighed Patricia. + +“I haven't time, you see,” answered Captain Jack gravely. + +“Oh, you know what I mean. It is a pity, too, for he is really very +nice. I mean he is so good to me,” sighed Patricia again. + +“Don't sigh, Patsy, old girl. It really isn't worth it, you know. How is +the supply of choc's keeping up?” + +“Now you are thinking me a pig. But tell me about your men. Are they +really in form?” + +“Absolutely at the peak.” + +“And that darling Fatty Findlay. I do hope he will not lose his head and +let a goal in. He is perfectly adorable with that everlasting smile of +his. I do hope Fatty is at the peak, too. Is he, really?” The anxiety in +Patricia's tone was more than painful. + +“Dear Patsy, he is right at the pinnacle.” + +“Captain Jack, if you don't win to-night I shall--well, I shall just +weep my eyes out.” + +“That settles it, Pat. We shall win. We can't--I can't spare those +lovely eyes, you know,” said Captain Jack, smiling at her. + +One by one Captain Jack's team were passed in review--the defence, +Macnamara and “Jack” Johnson, so called for his woolly white head; +“Reddy” Hughes, Ross, “Snoopy” Sykes, who with Captain Jack made the +forward line, all were declared to be fit to deliver the last ounce in +their bodies, the last flicker in their souls. + +“Do you know, Captain Jack,” said Patricia gravely, “there is one change +you ought to make in your forward line.” + +“Yes! What is that, Pat?” asked Captain Jack, with never a suggestion of +a smile. + +“I would change Snoopy for Geordie Ross. You know Geordie is a little +too careful, and he is hardly fast enough for you. Now you and Snoopy on +left wing would be oh! perfectly wonderful.” + +“Patsy, you are a wizard!” exclaimed Captain Jack. “That very change has +been made and the improvement is unbelievable. We are both left-handers +and we pull off our little specialties far more smoothly than Geordie +and I could. You have exactly hit the bull. You watch for that back +of the goal play to-night. Well, here we are. You have good seats, I +understand.” + +“Oh, yes. Rupert, you see, as patron of the Eagles was able to get the +very best. But won't you come in and see mother? She is really quite +worked up over it, though of course she couldn't bear to go.” + +Captain Jack checked the refusal on his lips. + +“Yes, I will go in for a few minutes,” he said gravely. “No! Your mother +would not--could not come, of course.” + +There flashed before his mind a picture from pre-war days. The rink +packed with wildly excited throngs and in a certain reserved section +midway down the side the Templeton-Maitland party with its distinguished +looking men and beautiful women following with eager faces and shining +eyes the fortunes of their sons in the fight before them. The flash +of that picture was like a hand of ice upon his heart as Captain Jack +entered the cosy living room. + +“Here he is, Mamma!” cried Patricia as she ushered her hero into the +room with a sweeping gesture. “And he brings the most cheering news. +They are going to win!” + +“But how delightful!” exclaimed Adrien coming from the piano where she +had been playing, with Rupert Stillwell turning her music for her. + +“I suppose upon the best authority,” said Stillwell, grinning at +Patricia. + +“We are so glad you found time to run in,” said Mrs. Templeton. “You +must have a great deal to say to your team on the last afternoon.” + +“I'm glad I came too, now,” said Captain Jack, holding the fragile hand +in his and patting it gently. “I am afraid Patricia is responsible for +my coming in. I don't really believe I could have ventured on my own.” + +A silence fell on the company which none of them seemed able to break. +Other days were hard upon them. In this very room it was that that +other seven were wont to meet for their afternoon tea before their great +matches. + +Mrs. Templeton, looking up at Jack, found his eyes fixed upon her and +full of tears. With a swift upward reach of her arms she caught him and +drew his head to her breast. + +“I know, Jack dear,” she said, with lips that quivered piteously. For a +moment or two he knelt before her while she held him in a close embrace. +Then he gently kissed her cheek and rose to his feet. + +“Give him some tea, Adrien,” she said, making a gallant struggle to +steady her voice, “a cup of tea--and no cake. I remember, you see,” she +added with a tremulous smile. + +Adrien came back quickly from the window. + +“Yes! a fresh cup!” she cried eagerly, “and a sandwich. You, Pat, +get the sandwiches. No cake. We must do nothing to imperil the coming +victory.” + +“You have a wonderful team, Jack, I hear,” said her mother. “Come and +sit here beside me and tell me about them. Patricia has been keeping me +informed, but she is not very coherent at times. Of course, I know about +your wonderful goal keeper Findlay, is it not?” And the gentle little +lady kept a stream of conversation going, for she saw how deeply moved +Maitland was. It was his first visit to the Rectory since he had taken +up the game again, and the rush of emotion released by the vivid memory +of those old happy days when that jolly group of boys had filled this +familiar room with their noisy clatter wellnigh overcame him. + +For a minute or two he fussed with the tea things till he could master +his voice, then he said very quietly: + +“They are very decent chaps--really very good fellows and they have +taken their training extraordinarily well. Of course, Macnamara and +Johnson were in my old company, and that helps a lot.” + +“Yes, I remember Macnamara quite well. He is a fine big Irishman.” + +“Fancy you remembering him, Mrs. Templeton,” said Captain Jack. + +“Of course, I remember him. He is one of our boys.” + +“Let's see, he is one of your defence, isn't he?” said Stillwell, who +had felt himself rather out of the conversation. Maitland nodded. The +presence of Stillwell in that room introduced a painful element. Once he +had been one of the seven and though never so intimately associated with +the Rectory life as the others, yet at all team gatherings he had had +his place. But since the war Maitland had never been able to endure his +presence in that room. To-day, with the memory of those old thrilling +days pressing hard upon his heart, he could not bear to look upon a man, +once one of them, now forever an outsider. The tea coming in brought to +Maitland relief. + +“Ah, here you are,” he cried anticipating Stillwell in relieving Adrien +of part of her load. “You are a life saver. Tea is the thing for this +hour.” + +“Three lumps, is it not?” said the girl, smiling at him. “You see, I +remember, though you really don't deserve it. And here is Pat with the +sandwiches.” + +“Yes! a whole plate for yourself, Captain Jack,” said Patricia. “Come +and sit by me here.” + +“No indeed!” said her sister with a bright glow on her cheeks. “Jack is +going to sit right here by the tea-pot, and me,” she added, throwing him +a swift glance. + +“No! you are both wrong, children,” said their mother. “Jack is coming +to sit beside me. He's my boy this afternoon.” + +“Mother, we will all share him,” said Patricia, placing chairs near her +mother. “I must talk about the match, I simply must.” + +A shadow for a moment wiped the brightness from the face and eyes of +the elder sister, but yielding to her mother's appeal, she joined the +circle, saying to Maitland, + +“I don't believe you want to talk about the match, do you? That is not +supposed to be good psychology before a match. What you really want is a +good sleep. Isn't that right?” + +“He has just sent his men off to bed, I know,” said Patricia, “and we +will send him off when he has had his tea.” + +“I am so glad you are playing again,” said Mrs. Templeton to Maitland +as he sat down by her side. “You need more recreation than you have been +taking, I believe.” + +A shadow crossed Maitland's face. + +“I don't believe I need recreation very much, but these chaps of mine +do,” he said simply. + +“The workmen, you mean!” + +“Yes. They lead rather a dull life, you know. Not much colour. A pool +room on the whole has rather a rotten effect upon a chap who has been +nine or ten hours indoors already and who sticks at the same thing day +in and day out for months at a time.” + +“Ah, I see. You mean you took up hockey for--ah--to help--” + +“Well, I don't want to pose as a workingman's advocate and that sort of +thing. But really he has a slow time.” + +“Then, why doesn't he get busy and do something for himself,” broke in +Stillwell, impatiently. “The Lord knows he is getting most of the money +these days and has more spare time than anyone else in the community.” + +But Maitland ignored him, till Patricia intervened. + +“Tell me about that,” she demanded. + +“Look here!” said her sister. “You are not going to get Jack into a +labour controversy this afternoon. But I would just like to ask you, +Pat, how keen you'd be on organising and conducting a Literary and +Debating Society after you had put in not five and a half hours' +lessons, but eight or nine hours'! It would take some doing, eh? But +let's cut out the labour trouble. It is nearly time for his sleep, isn't +it?” + +“Is it, Captain Jack? If so, we won't keep you a minute,” said Patricia +anxiously. “No, mother! you must not keep him. He must be on tip-toe +to-night.” + +Captain Jack rose. “Patricia would make an ideal trainer,” he said. “I +fear I must really go. I am awfully glad to have come in and seen you +all. Somehow I feel a whole lot better.” + +“And so do we, Jack,” said the old lady in a wistful voice. “Won't you +come again soon?” + +Maitland hesitated a moment, glancing at Adrien. + +“Oh, do!” said the girl, with a little colour coming into her face. “It +has been a little like old times to see you this way.” + +“Yes, hasn't it?” said Stillwell. “Awfully jolly.” + +Maitland stiffened and turned again to the old lady whose eyes were +turned on him with sad entreaty. + +“Yes, I shall come to see you,” said Maitland, bowing over her hand in +farewell. + +“We shall expect you to come and see us to-night at the match, remember, +Captain Jack,” said Patricia, as he passed out of the room. “Now be sure +to go and have your sleep.” + +But there was no sleep that afternoon for Captain Jack. On his way +through the town he was halted by McNish. + +“The boys want to see you,” he said briefly. + +“What boys? What do you mean, McNish?” + +“At the rooms. Will you come down now?” + +“Now? I can't come now, McNish. I have to be on the ice in three hours +and I must get a little rest. What's up, anyway? Tell them I'll see them +to-morrow.” + +“No! they want you now!” said McNish firmly. “I would advise that you +come.” + +“What do you mean, McNish? Well, get in here and I'll go to see them.” + McNish got into the car. “Now, what's all the mystery?” + +“Better wait,” said McNish, grimly. + +“Well, it is a dog's trick,” said Maitland wrathfully, “to get on to a +chap before a big match like this.” + +In the Union Committee rooms a group of men were awaiting them, among +them Mr. Wigglesworth and the little cockney who had made himself so +obnoxious at the public meeting. + +“What's all this tomfoolery, Wigglesworth?” demanded Captain Jack, +striding in among them. + +“(H)excuse me,” said the little cockney. “You are a member of the +Woodworkers' Union I (h)understand.” + +“Who the devil are you, may I ask?” said Maitland in a rage. + +“(H)allow me,” said Mr. Wigglesworth. “Mister Simmons, Mr. Maitland--Mr. +Simmons is our new secretary, (h)elected last meetin'.” + +“Well, what do you want of me?” demanded Maitland. “Don't you know I am +tied up this afternoon?” + +“Tied (h)up?” asked Simmons coolly, “'ow?” + +“With the match, confound you.” + +“Oh, the match! And w'at match may that be? (H)Anythin' to do with your +Union?” + +Maitland glared at him, too dumfounded to speak. + +“You see, Mr. Maitland,” began Mr. Wigglesworth in a hurried and +apologetic manner. + +“'Ere! you keep aht o' this,” said Simmons sharply, “this 'ere's my job. +I shall tell Brother Maitland all that is necessary.” + +“I was only going to (h)explain--” began Mr. Wigglesworth. + +“Naw then! IS this your job or mine? Was you (h)appointed or was I? +When I find myself (h)unable to discharge my dooty to the Union I might +per'aps call on you, Brother Wigglesworth; but until I find myself +in that situation I 'ope you will refrain from shovin' in your 'orn.” + Brother Simmons' sarcasm appeared to wither Brother Wigglesworth into +silence. + +“Naw then, Brother Maitland, we shall get (h)on.” + +Maitland glanced round on the group of half a dozen men. Some of them he +knew; others were strangers to him. + +“I don't know what the business is, gentlemen,” he said, curbing his +wrath, “but I want to know if it can't wait till to-morrow? You know our +boys are going on the ice in a couple of hours or so--” + +“Goin' on the (h)ice! Goin' on the (h)ice! W'at's that to do with Union +business?” snarled Simmons. “This 'ere's no silly kids' gaime! It's a +man's work we ave in 'and, if you don't want to do the business to w'ich +you are (h)appointed w'y just say so and we shall know 'ow to (h)act. +There 'as been too much o' this gaime business to suit me. If we are men +let us (h)act like men.” + +“Better get on wi' it,” said McNish curtly. + +“I shall get on w'en I am good and ready, Brother McNish,” answered +Simmons. + +“All r-r-right, brother, but A doot ye're oot o' order. Who is the +chairman o' this Committee?” asked McNish calmly. + +“Brother Phillips,” answered two or three voices. + +“All right. I suggest you proceed regularly and call the meeting to +order,” said McNish quietly. Simmons, recognising that it was Greek +meeting Greek, agreed to this. + +Clumsily and hesitatingly Brother Phillips began stating the business of +the Committee. He had not gone far before Simmons interrupted. + +“Mr. Chairman, with your permission I would just like to say that the +resolution passed at the representative joint meetin' of the Maitland +Mills and Box Factory (h)employees last night will sufficiently +(h)explain the (h)object of this meetin' 'ere.” Brother Simmons' tone +suggested infinite pity for the lumbering efforts of the chairman. + +“Yes, I guess it will,” said the chairman, blushing in his confusion. +Brother Phillips was new to his position and its duties. + +“I would suggest that that resolution be read,” said Brother Simmons, +the pity in his tone hardly veiling his contempt. + +“Yes! Yes! Of course!” said Brother Phillips hurriedly. “Eh--would you +please read it, Mr.--that is--Brother Simmons?” + +With great show of deliberation and of entire mastery of the situation +Mr. Simmons produced a Minute Book and began: + +“Mr. Chairman and brothers, I may say that this 'ere resolution was +passed at a joint representative meetin' of all the (h)employees of the +Maitland Company--” + +“There is no sich company, Mr. Chairman,” said McNish. “A say let us +hear the resolution. We'll hear the speech afterwards if we must.” + It was again Greek meeting Greek, and the little man turned with a +sarcastic smile to McNish. + +“I suppose Brother McNish is (h)anxious to get ready for this gaime +we've bin 'earing abaht. I should just like to remind 'im that we 'ave +a bigger gaime on 'and, if 'e wants to get into it. Personally I +don't 'ave no use for these 'ere gaimes. I 'ave seen the same kind of +capitalistic dodge to distract the workin' man's (h)attention from 'is +real gaime in life. These circumventions--” + +“Maister Chair-r-man! A rise--” + +“Mr. Chairman, I 'ave the floor and if Brother McNish knows (h)anythink +abaht constitootional proceedin's--” + +“Maister Chair-r-man--Maister-r Chair-r-r-man!” Brother McNish's Doric +was ominously rasping. “A rise tae a pint of or-r-de-r-r. And Brother +Simmons, who claims to be an expert in constitutional law and procedure +knows I have the floor. Ma pint of order is this, that there is no +business before the meeting and as apparently only aboot half the +members are absent--” + +“And 'oo's fault is that? 'E was to get them 'isself,” shouted Mr. +Simmons. + +“A searched the toon for them but cudna find them, but as A was +sayin'--as the secretary has no business tae bring before the meeting +but a wheen havers, A move we adjourn tae tomorrow at 12:30 p. m. in +this place, and I believe that as Brither Maitland is also a member o' +this committee he will second the motion.” + +Maitland, not knowing in the least what the whole thing was about, but +seeing a way out of the present mix-up, promptly seconded the motion. + +“Mr. Chairman!” shouted Simmons. “I am prepared to--” + +“Maister Chair-r-man, A need not remind you that there is no discussion +on a motion to adjourn.” + +“That is quite right,” said the chairman, in whose memory by some +obscure mental process this fact seemed to have found a lodging. + +“It is moved that this committee do now adjourn.” + +“Mr. Chairman! I protest,” shrieked Brother Simmons frantically. + +“Ay, he's a grand protester!” said Brother McNish. + +The motion was carried by a majority of one, Brothers Wigglesworth, +McNish and Maitland voting in the affirmative. + +“Traitors!” shrieked Brother Simmons. “Capitalistic traitors!” + +“Hoot mon! Ye're no in Hyde Park. Save yere breath for yere porritch the +morn--” said McNish, relaxing into a grim smile as he left the rooms. + +“We'll get 'im,” said Simmons to his ally and friend. “'E's in with that +there young pup. 'E knows 'ow to work 'im and 'e'd sell us all up, 'e +would.” Brother Simmons' brand of profanity strongly savoured of the +London pavements in its picturesque fluency. + +“Get in here, McNish,” said Maitland, who was waiting at the door. With +some hesitation McNish accepted the invitation. + +“Now, what does this mean?” said Maitland savagely, then checking his +rage, “but I ought to thank you for getting me out of the grip of that +frantic idiot. What is this fool thing?” + +“It's nae that,” said McNish shortly. “It is anything but that. But I +grant ye this was no time to bring it on. That was beyond me. A doot yon +puir cratur had a purpose in it, however. He disna--does not think +much of these games of yours. But that's anither--another”--McNish was +careful of his speech--“matter.” + +“But what in--” + +“I am just telling you. There is a strong, a very strong movement under +way among the unions at present.” + +“A movement? Strike, do you mean?” + +“It may be, or worse.” McNish's tone was very grave. “And as a good +union man they expect your assistance.” + +“Wages again?” + +“Ay, and condeetions and the like.” + +“But it is not six months since the last agreement was signed and that +agreement is running still.” + +“Ay, it is, but condeetions, conditions have changed since that date,” + said McNish, “and there must be readjustment--at least, there is a +feeling that way.” + +“Readjustment? But I have had no hint of this in our meetings. This has +not come up for discussion.” + +A gentle pity smiled from the rugged face of the man beside him. + +“Hardly,” he said. “It's no done that way.” + +They came to McNish's door. + +“Will you come in?” he said courteously. A refusal was at Maitland's +lips when the door was opened by an old lady in a white frilled cap and +without being able to explain how it came about he found himself in the +quaintly furnished but delightfully cosy living-room, soaking in the +comfort of a great blazing fire. + +“This is really solid comfort,” he said, spreading his hands to the +glowing pine slabs. + +“Ay, ye need it the day. The fire cheers the heart,” said the old lady. + +“But you don't need it for that, Mrs. McNish,” said her visitor, smiling +at the strong, serene face under the white frilled cap. + +“Do I not then? An' what aboot yersel'?” The keen grey eye searched his +face. Maitland was immediately conscious of a vast dreariness in his +life. He sat silent looking into the blazing fire. + +“Ay,” continued the old lady, “but there are the bright spots tae, an' +it's ill tae glower at a cauld hearth stone.” Maitland glanced quickly +at the shrewd and kindly face. What did she know about him and his life +and his “cauld hearth stone”? So he said nothing but waited. Suddenly +she swerved to another theme. + +“Malcolm,” she said, “have ye secured the tickets for the match?” + +“Aw, mither, now it is the terrible auld sport ye are. She drags me out +to all these things.” His eyes twinkled at Maitland. “I can't find time +for any study.” + +“Hoots ye and ye're study. A doot a rale heartening scramble on the ice +wad dae ye mair guid than an oor wi' yon godless Jew buddie.” + +“She means Marx, of course,” said McNish, in answer to Maitland's look +of perplexity. “She has no use for him.” + +“But the tickets, Malcolm,” insisted his mother. + +“Well, mither, A'll confess I clean forgot them. Ye see,” he hurried to +say, “A was that fashed over yon Committee maitter--” + +“Committee maitter!” exclaimed the old lady indignantly. “Did I not +tell ye no to heed yon screamin' English cratur wi' his revolutionary +nonsense?” + +“She means Simmons,” interjected Malcolm with a little smile. “He means +well, mither, but A'm vexed aboot the tickets.” + +“Mrs. McNish,” said Maitland, “I happen to have two tickets that I can +let you have.” For an instant she hesitated. + +“We can find a way in, I think, Mr. Maitland,” said Malcolm, +forestalling his mother's answer. But with simple dignity his mother put +him aside. + +“A shall be verra pleased indeed to have the tickets, provided you can +spare them, Mr. Maitland. Never mind, noo, Malcolm. A ken well +what ye're thinkin'. He's gey independent and his mind is on thae +revolutionary buddies o' his. A'm aye tellin' him this is nae land for +yon nonsense. Gin we were in Rooshie, or Germany whaur the people have +lived in black slavery or even in the auld land whaur the fowk are +haudden doon wi' generations o' class bondage, there might be a chance +for a revolutionary. But what can ye dae in a land whaur the fowk are +aye climbin' through ither, noo up, noo down, noo maister, noo man? +Ye canna make Canadians revolutionaries. They are a' on the road to be +maisters. Malcolm is a clever loon but he has a wee bee in his bonnet.” + The old lady smiled quizzically at her big, serious-faced son. + +“Noo, mither, ye're just talkin' havers,” he said. “My mother is as +great a Socialist as I am.” + +“Ay, but A keep ma heid.” + +“That ye do, mither. Ye're gey cannie,” replied her son, shaking his +head, and so they passed the word to and fro, and Maitland sat listening +to the chat. The delightful spirit of camaraderie between mother and son +reminded him of a similar relationship between mother and sons in his +own home in pre-war days. He could not tear himself away. It was well on +to his dinner hour before he rose to go. + +“You have given me a delightful hour, Mrs. McNish,” he said as he shook +hands. “You made me think of my own home in the old days,--I mean before +the war came and smashed everything.” The old lady's eyes were kindly +scanning his face. + +“Ay, the war smashed yere hame?” Maitland nodded in silence. + +“His brither,” said Malcolm, quietly. + +“Puir laddie,” she said, patting his hand. + +“And my mother,” added Maitland, speaking with difficulty, “and that, of +course, meant our home--and everything. So I thank you for a very happy +hour,” he added with a smile. + +“Wad ye care to come again?” said the old lady with a quiet dignity. +“We're plain fowk but ye'll be always welcome.” + +“I just will, Mrs. McNish. And I will send you the tickets.” + +“Man! I wish ye grand luck the night. A grand victory.” + +“Thank you. We are going to make a try for it,” said Maitland. “You must +shout for us.” + +“Ay, wull I,” she answered grimly. And she kept her word for of all the +company that made up the Maitland party, none was more conspicuously +enthusiastic in applause than was a white-haired old lady in a +respectable black bonnet whose wild and weird Doric expletives and +exclamations were the joy of the whole party about her. + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE NIGHT OF VICTORY + + +It was an hour after the match. They were gathered in the old rendezvous +of the hockey teams in pre-war days. And they were all wildly excited +over the Great Victory. + +“Just think of it, Mamma, dear,” Patricia shouted, pirouetting now on +one foot and then on the other, “Eight to six! Oh, it is too glorious to +believe! And against that wonderful team, the Cornwalls! Now listen to +me, while I give you a calm and connected account of the game. I shall +always regret that you were not present, Mamma. Victory! And at half +time we were down, five to two! I confess disaster and despair stared me +in the face. And we started off so gloriously! Captain Jack and Snoopy +in the first five minutes actually put in two goals, with that back goal +play of theirs. You know, I explained it to you, Mamma.” + +“Yes, dear, I know,” said her mother, “but if you will speak a little +more quietly and slowly--” + +“I will, Mamma,” said her daughter, sitting down with great +deliberation, in front of her. “I will explain to you again that 'round +the goal' play.” + +“I am afraid, my dear, that I could hardly grasp just what you mean.” + +“Well, never mind, Mamma. It is a particular and special play that +Captain Jack worked out. They rush down to the goal and instead of +trying to shoot, the one with the puck circles round the back and +delivers the puck immediately in front of the goal, where another takes +and slips it in. Two goals in about five minutes, wasn't it, Hugh?” + +“About eight minutes, I should say,” replied Hugh Maynard, the big +Captain of the Eagles. + +“Well, eight minutes,” continued Patricia, taking up the tale, “and then +they began the roughhouse business. Jumbo Larson--a terribly big Swede, +Mamma--put it all over little Snoopy. Chucked him about, wiped the ice +with him!” + +“My dear!” exclaimed her mother. + +“Well, you know what I mean. A great big, two-hundred-pound monster, who +simply threw Snoopy and Georgie Ross all about the rink. It took Captain +Jack all his time to stand up against him. And then they ran in goals +at a perfectly terrific rate. Two--three--four--five! And only Fatty +Findlay's marvelous play kept down the score. I adore Fatty! You know, +Mamma, that dear old Scotchwoman--” + +“Scotchwoman?” exclaimed Mrs. Templeton. + +“Yes. Oh! you don't know about her. Captain Jack brought her along. Mrs. +Mc-something.” + +“McNish,” supplied Adrien. + +“Yes, McNish,” continued Patricia, “a perfect dear! She did everything +but swear. Indeed, she may have been swearing for I could not understand +half of what she said.” + +Adrien interrupted: “She is perfectly priceless, Mother. I wish you +could meet her--so dignified and sweet.” + +“Sweet!” exclaimed Patricia, with a laugh. “Well, I didn't see the +sweetness, exactly. But at half time, Mamma, fancy! they stood five to +two against us. It was a truly awful moment for all of us. And then, +after half time, didn't those Cornwalls within five minutes run in +another goal, and, worse than all, Jumbo Larson laid out Snoopy flat on +the ice! Now the game stood six to two! Think of it, Mamma!” + +Then Adrien put in: “It was at this point that the old lady made a +remark which, I believe, saved the day. What was it exactly, Hugh?” + +“I didn't quite get it.” + +“I know,” said little Vic Forsythe, himself a star of the Eagle forward +line. “You poor Sassenach! You couldn't be expected to catch the full, +fine flavour of it. Maitland was trying to cheer the old lady up when +she said to him: 'Yon half backs, A'm thinkin''--she was a soccer fan +in the old land, I believe--'yon half backs, A'm thinkin', are gey +confident. It is a peety they cudna be shaken a bit in their nerves.' By +Jove! Maitland jumped at it. 'Mrs. McNish, you're right! you're right. I +wonder I did not think of it before.'” + +Then Adrien broke in: “Yes, from that moment there was a change in our +men's tactics.” + +Then Patricia broke in: “Well, then, let me go on. Captain Jack knew +quite well there was no use of allowing those little chaps, Snoopy and +Geordie Ross, to keep feeding themselves to those horrid monsters, Jumbo +Larson and Macnab, so what did they do but move up 'Jack' Johnson and +Macnamara. That is, you see, Mamma, the forwards would take down the +puck and then up behind them would come the backs, Macnamara and 'Jack' +Johnson, like a perfect storm, and taking the puck from the forwards, +who would then fall back to defence, would smash right on the Cornwall +defence. The very first time when 'Jack' Johnson came against Jumbo, +Jumbo found himself sitting on the ice. Oh! it was lovely! Perfectly +lovely! And the next time they did it, Jumbo came at him like a bull. +But that adorable 'Jack' Johnson just lifted him clear off his feet and +flung him against the side. It seemed to me that the whole rink shook!” + +Here Vic broke in: “You didn't hear what the old lady said at this +point, I suppose. I was sitting next to her. She was really a whole play +by herself. When Jumbo went smashing against the side, the old lady gave +a grunt. 'Hum, that wull sort ye a doot.' Oh! she is a peach!” + +“And the next time they came down,” cried Patricia, taking up the tale +again, “Jumbo avoided him. For Macnamara, 'Jack' Johnson and Captain +Jack came roaring down the ice at a terrific pace, and with never a +stop, smashed head on into Jumbo and Macnab and fairly hurled them in +on Hepburn--that is their goal keeper, you know--and scored. Oh! Oh! Oh! +Such a yell! Six to three, and ten minutes to play.” + +“But Patricia,” said Mrs. Templeton, “do moderate your tone. We are not +in the rink. And this terrible excitement can't be good for you.” + +“Good for me?” cried Patricia. “What difference does that make? Ten +minutes to play, Mamma! But that was the end of the roughhouse game by +the Cornwall defence.” + +Then Hugh stepped in: “It really did break up that defence. It was a +wonderful piece of generalship, I must say. They never seemed to get +together after that.” + +“Let me talk, Hugh,” exclaimed Patricia, “I want to tell Mamma what +happened next, for this was really the most terribly exciting part of +the game. And I think it was awfully clever of Captain Jack. You know, +next time, Mamma, when they came down--I mean our men--they pretended to +be playing the same game, but they weren't. For Captain Jack and Snoopy +went back to their old specialty, and before the Cornwalls knew where +they were at, they ran in three goals--one-two-three, just like that! +Oh! you ought to have seen that rink, Mamma, and you ought to have heard +the yelling! I wish you had been there! And then, just at that last goal +didn't that horrid Jumbo make a terrible and cruel swing at Snoopy's +ankle, just as he passed. Knocked him clean off his feet so that poor +Snoopy lay on the ice quite still! He was really nearly killed. They had +to carry him off!” + +“Well, I wouldn't say that exactly,” said Hugh. “The fact of the matter +is, Snoopy is a clever little beggar and I happened to catch his wink as +Maitland was bending over him. I was helping him off the ice, you know, +and I heard him whisper, 'Don't worry, Captain, I'm all right. Get me +another pair of skates. It will take a little time.'” + +“Do you mean he wasn't hurt?” exclaimed Patricia indignantly. “Indeed he +was; he was almost killed, I am sure he was.” + +“Oh, he was hurt right enough,” said Hugh, “but he wasn't killed by any +means!” + +“And then,” continued Patricia, “there was the most terrible riot and +uproar. Everybody seemed to be on the ice and fighting. Hugh ran in, +and Vic--I should loved to have gone myself--Hugh was perfectly +splendid--and all the Eagles were there and--” + +Then Mrs. Templeton said: “What do you mean--a fight, a riot?” + +“A real riot, Mother,” said Adrien, “the whole crowd demanding Jumbo's +removal from the ice.” + +“Yes,” continued Patricia impatiently, pushing her sister aside, “Hugh +went straight to the umpire and it looked almost as though he was going +to fight, the way he tore in. But he didn't. He just spoke quietly to +the umpire. What did you say, Hugh?” + +“Oh,” cried Vic, “Hugh was perfectly calm and superior. He knows the +umpire well. Indeed, I think the umpire owes his life to Hugh and his +protecting band of Eagles.” + +“What did he say,” cried Patricia. “I wish I could have heard that.” + +“Oh,” said Vic, “there was an interesting conversation. 'Keep out of +this, Maynard. You ought to know better,' the umpire said, 'keep out.' +'Baker, that man Larson must go off.' 'Rubbish,' said the umpire, 'they +were both roughing it.' 'Look here, Baker, that's rot and you know it. +It was a deliberate and beastly trick. Put him off!' 'He stays on!' said +the umpire, and he stuck to it, I'll give him credit for that. It was +old Maitland that saved the day. He came up smiling. 'I hope you are +taking off the time, umpire,' he said, with that little laugh of his. 'I +am not going to put Larson off,' shouted the umpire to him. 'Who asked +you to?' said Maitland. 'Go on with the game.' That saved the day. They +all started cheering. The ice was cleared and the game went on.” + +“Oh, that was it. I couldn't understand. They were so savage first, and +then suddenly they all seemed to quiet down. It was Captain Jack. Well, +Mamma, on they came again! But when poor Snoopy came out, all bandaged +round the head and the blood showing through--” + +“Quite a clever little beggar,” murmured Vic. + +“Clever? What do you mean?” cried Patricia. + +“Oh, well, good psychology, I mean--that's all. Bloody +bandages--demanding vengeance, Jack's team, you know--Macnamara, for +instance, entreating his captain for the love of heaven to put him +opposite Jumbo--shaking the morale of the enemy and so forth--mighty +good psychology.” + +“I don't know exactly what you mean,” said Patricia, “but the Cornwall +defence was certainly rattled. They pulled their men back and played +defence like perfect demons, with the Mill men on to them like tigers.” + +“But Patricia, my dear,” said her mother, “those are terrible words.” + +“But, Mamma, not half so terrible as the real thing. Oh, it was +perfectly splendid! And then how did it finish, Hugh? I didn't quite see +how that play came about.” + +“I didn't see, either,” said Hugh. + +“Didn't you?” cried Adrien, “I did. Jack and Geordie Ross were going +down the centre at a perfectly terrific speed, big Macnamara backing +them up. Out came Macnab and Jumbo Larson following him. Macnab checked +Geordie, who passed to Jack, who slipped it back to Macnamara. Down +came Jumbo like a perfect thunderbolt and fairly hurled himself upon +Macnamara. I don't know what happened then, but--” + +“Oh, I do!” cried Vic. “When old Jumbo came hurtling down upon +Macnamara, this was evidently what Macnamara was waiting for. Indeed, +what he had been praying for all through the game. I saw him gather +himself, crouch low, lurch forward with shoulder well down, a wrestler's +trick--you know Macnamara was the champion wrestler of his division in +France--he caught Jumbo low. Result, a terrific catapult, and the big +Swede lay on his back some twenty feet away. Everybody thought he was +dead.” + +“Oh, it was perfectly lovely!” exclaimed Patricia, rapturously. + +“But, my dear,” said her mother, “lovely, and they thought the man was +dead!” + +“Oh, but he wasn't dead. He came to. I will say he was very plucky. Then +just as they faced off, time was called. Six to six! Think of it, Mamma, +six to six! And we had been five to two at half time!” + +“Six to six?” said Mrs. Templeton. “But I thought you said we won?” + +“Oh, listen, Mamma, this is the most wonderful thing of the whole +match,” said Adrien, trying to break in on the tornado of words from her +younger sister. + +“No, let me, Adrien! I know exactly how it was done. Captain Jack +explained it to me before. It was Captain Jack's specialty. It was what +they call the double-circle. Here is the way it was worked.” Patricia +sprang to her feet, arranged two chairs for goal and proceeded to +demonstrate. “You see, Mamma, in the single circle play, Captain Jack +and Snoopy come down--say Snoopy has the puck. Just as they get near the +goal Snoopy fools the back, rushes round the goal and passes to +Jack, who is standing in front ready to slip it in. But of course +the Cornwalls were prepared for the play. But that is where the +double-circle comes in. This time Geordie had the puck, with Captain +Jack immediately at his left and Snoopy further out. Well, Geordie had +the puck, you see. He rushes down and pretends to make the circle of the +goal. But this time he doesn't. He tears like mad around the goal with +the puck, Snoopy tears like mad around the goal from the other side, the +defence all rush over to the left to check them, leaving the right wide +open. Snoopy takes the ball from Geordie, rushes around the goal the +other way, Mamma, do you see?--passes back to Reddy, his partner, who +slips it in! And poor Jumbo was unable to do anything. I believe he was +still dazed from his terrible fall!” + +Then Hugh breaks in: “It really was beautifully done.” + +“It certainly was,” said Vic. + +“Seven to six, Mamma, think of it! Seven to six, and two minutes of the +first overtime to play. Two minutes! It just seemed that our men could +do as they liked. The last time the whole forward lines came down, with +Macnamara and 'Jack' Johnson roaring and yelling like--like--I don't +know what. And they did the double-circle again! Think of it! And then +time was called. Oh, I am perfectly exhausted with this excitement!” + said Patricia, sinking back into her chair. “I don't believe I could go +down to that rink, not even for another game. It is terribly trying!” + +At this moment Rupert Stillwell came in, full of enthusiasm for the +Cornwalls' scientific hockey, and with grudging praise for the local +team, deploring their roughhouse tactics. But he met a sharp and +unexpected check, for Adrien took him in hand, in her quiet, cool, +efficient manner. + +“Roughhouse!” she said. “What do you mean exactly by that?” + +“Well,” said Rupert, somewhat taken aback, “for instance that charge of +Macnamara on Jumbo Larson at the last.” + +“I saw that quite clearly,” said Adrien, “and it appeared to me +quite all right. It was Larson who made the most furious charge upon +Macnamara.” + +“Of course it was,” cried Patricia, indignantly. “Jumbo deserved all he +got. Why, the way he mauled little Snoopy and Geordie Ross in the first +part of the game was perfectly horrid. Don't you think so, Hugh?” + +“Oh, well, hockey is not tiddly-winks, you know, Patricia, and--” + +“As if I didn't know that!” broke in the girl indignantly. + +“And Jumbo and Macnab,” continued Hugh, “really had to break up the +dangerous combination there. Of course that was a rotten assault on +Snoopy. It wasn't Jumbo's fault that he didn't break an ankle. As it +was, he gave him a very bad fall.” + +At this Rupert laughed scornfully. “Rot,” he said, “the whole town is +laughing at all that bloody bandage business. It was a bit of stage +play. Very clever, I confess, but no hockey. I happen to know that +Maitland was quite hot about it.” + +But Hugh and Vic only laughed at him. + +“He is a clever little beggar, is Snoopy,” said Vic. + +“But, meantime,” said Mrs. Templeton, “where is Jack! He was going to be +here, was he not?” + +“Feasting and dancing, I expect,” said Rupert. “There is a big supper +on, given by the Mill management, and a dance afterwards--'hot time in +the old town,' eh?” + +“A dance?” gasped Patricia. “A dance! Where?” + +“Odd Fellows' Hall,” said Rupert. “Want to go? I have tickets. Don't +care for that sort of thing myself. Rather a mixed affair, I guess. Mill +hands and their girls.” + +“Oh,” breathed Patricia, “I should love to go. Couldn't we?” + +“But my dear Patricia,” said her mother, “a dance, with all those +people? What nonsense. But I wish Jack would drop in. I should so like +to congratulate him on his great victory.” + +“Oh, do let us go, just for a few minutes, Mamma” entreated Patricia. +“Hugh, have you tickets?” + +The men looked at each other. + +“Well,” confessed Vic, “I was thinking of dropping in myself. After all, +it is our home team and they are good sports. And Maitland handled them +with wonderful skill.” + +“Yes, I am going,” said Hugh. “I am bound to go as Captain of the +Eagles, and that sort of thing, but I would, anyway. Would you care +to come, Adrien, if Mrs. Templeton will allow you? Of course there are +chaperons. Maitland would see to that.” + +“I should like awfully to go,” said Adrien eagerly. “We might, for a few +minutes, Mother? Of course, Patricia should be in bed, really.” + +Poor Patricia's face fell. + +“It is no place for any of you,” said the mother, decidedly. “Just think +of that mixed multitude! And you, Patricia, you should be in bed.” + +“But oh, Mamma, dear,” wailed Patricia, “I can rest all day to-morrow.” + +At this point a new voice broke in to the discussion and Doctor +Templeton appeared. “Well, what's the excitement,” he enquired. “Oh, the +match, of course! Well, what was the result?” + +“Oh, Daddy, we won, we won!” cried Patricia, springing at him. “The +most glorious match! Big Jumbo Larson, a perfect monster on the Cornwall +defence, was knocked out! Oh, it was a glorious match! And can't I go +down to see the dance? Adrien and Hugh and Vic are going. Only for a few +minutes,” she begged, with her arms around her father's neck. “Say yes, +Daddy!” + +“Give me time; let me get my breath, Patricia. Now, do begin +somewhere--say, with the score.” + +They all gave him the score. + +“Hurrah!” cried the old doctor. “No one hurt--seriously, I mean?” + +“No,” said Patricia, “except perhaps Jumbo Larson,” she added hopefully. + +“The Lord was merciful to this family when he made you a girl, +Patricia,” said her father. + +“But, Daddy, it was a wonderful game.” Quite breathlessly, she went once +more over the outstanding features of the play. + +“Sounds rather bloody, I must say,” said her father, doubtfully. + +But Hugh said: “It was not really--not quite so bad as Patricia makes +it, sir. Rough at times, of course, but, on the whole, clean.” + +“Clean,” cried Patricia, “what about Jumbo's swing at Snoopy?” + +“Oh, well, Snoopy had the puck, you know. It was a little off-colour, I +must confess.” + +“And now, Daddy,” said Patricia, going at her father again, “we all want +to go down to the dance. There will be speeches, you know, and I do want +to hear Captain Jack,” she added, not without guile. “Won't you let me +go with them? Hugh will take care of me.” + +“I think I should rather like to go myself,” said her father. A shout +of approval rose from the whole company. “But,” continued the doctor, “I +don't think I can. My dear, I think they might go for a few minutes--and +you can bring me in a full account of the speeches, Patricia,” he added, +with a twinkle in his eye. + +“But, my dear,” exclaimed his wife, “this is one of those awful public +affairs. You can't imagine what they are like. The Mill hands will all +be there, and that sort of people.” + +“Well, my dear, Jack Maitland will be there, I fancy, and you were +thinking of going, Hugh?” + +“Yes, sir, I am going. Of course there will be a number of the friends +of both teams, townspeople. Of course the Mill hands will be there, too, +in large numbers. It will be great fun.” + +“Well, my dear,” said the doctor, “I think they might go down for a few +minutes. But be sure to be back before midnight. Remember, Patricia, you +are to do exactly as your sister says.” + +Then Vic said: “I shall keep a firm hand on her, sir.” + +“Oh, you darling,” Patricia cried, hugging her father rapturously. “I +will be so good; and won't it be fun!” + +Odd Fellows' Hall was elaborately decorated with bunting and evergreens. +The party from the Rectory, arriving in time to hear the closing +speeches of the two team captains, took their places in the gallery. The +speeches were brief and to the point. + +The Captain of the visiting team declared that he had greatly enjoyed +the game. He was not quite convinced that the best team had won, but he +would say that the game had gone to the team that had put up the best +play. He complimented Captain Maitland upon his generalship. He had +known Captain Maitland in the old days and he ought to have been on the +lookout for the kind of thing he had put over. The Maitland Mill team +had made a perfectly wonderful recovery in the last quarter, though he +rather thought his friend Macnamara had helped it a little at a critical +point. + +“He did that,” exclaimed Jumbo Larson, with marked emphasis. + +After the roar of laughter had quieted down, the Cornwall Captain closed +by expressing the hope that the Maitland Mill team would try for a place +next season in the senior hockey. In which case he expressed the hope +that he might have the pleasure of meeting them again. + +Captain Maitland's speech was characteristic. He had nothing but praise +for the Cornwalls. They played a wonderful game and a clean game. He +shared in the doubt of their Captain as to which was the better team. He +frankly confessed that in the last quarter the luck came to his team. + +“Not a bit of it,” roared the Cornwalls with one voice. + +As to his own team, he was particularly proud of the way they had taken +the training--their fine self-denial, and especially the never-dying +spirit which they showed. It was a great honour for his team to meet +the Cornwalls. A hard team to meet--sometimes--as Snoopy and himself had +found out that evening--but they were good sports and he hoped some day +to meet them again. + +After the usual cheers for the teams, individually and collectively, for +their supporters, for the Mill management and for the ladies, the dinner +came to an end, the whole party joining with wide open throats and all +standing at attention, in the Canadian and the Empire national anthems. + +While the supper table was being cleared away preparatory to the dance, +Captain Jack rushed upstairs to the party in the gallery. Patricia flung +herself at him in an ecstasy of rapture. + +“Oh! Captain Jack, you did win! You did win! You did win! It was +glorious! And that double-circle play that you and Snoopy put up--didn't +it work beautifully!” + +“We were mighty lucky,” said Captain Jack. + +The others, Hugh, Vic and Rupert, crowded round, offering +congratulations. Adrien waited behind, a wonderful light shining in her +eyes, a faint colour touching her pale cheek. Captain Jack came slowly +forward. + +“Are you not going to congratulate us, too, Adrien?” he said. + +She moved a pace forward. + +“Oh, Jack,” she whispered, leaning toward him and breathing quickly, “it +was so like the old, the dear old days.” + +Into Maitland's eyes there flashed a look of surprise, of wonder, then +of piercing scrutiny, while his face grew white. + +“Adrien,” he said, in a voice low, tense, almost stern, which she alone +heard. “What do you mean? Then do you--” + +“Oh, Captain Jack,” cried Patricia, catching his arm, “are you going to +dance? You are, aren't you? And will you give me--Oh, I daren't ask! You +are such a great hero to-night!” + +“Why, Patsy, will you give me a dance?” + +The girl stood gazing at him with eyes that grew misty, the quick +beating of her loyal heart almost suffocating her. + +“Oh, Captain Jack,” she gasped, “how many?” + +Maitland laughed at her, and turned to her sister. + +“And you, Adrien, may I have a dance?” + +Again Adrien leaned toward him. + +“One?” she asked. + +“And as many more as you can spare.” + +“My program is quite empty, you see,” she said, flinging out her hands +and laughing joyously into his face. + +“What about me? And me? And me?” said the other three men. + +“I suppose we are all nowhere to-night,” added Rupert, with a touch of +bitterness in his voice. + +“Well, there is only one conquering hero, you know,” replied Adrien, +smiling at them all. + +“Now I must run off,” said Maitland. “You see, I am on duty, as it were. +Come down in a few minutes.” + +“Yes, go, Jack,” said Adrien, throwing him a warm smile. “We will follow +you in a few minutes.” + +“Oh, I am so excited!” said Patricia, as Maitland disappeared down the +stairs. “I mean to dance with every one of the team. I know I am going +to have a perfectly lovely time! But I would give them all up if I could +have Captain Jack all the time.” + +“Pig,” said her sister, smiling at her. + +“Wretch,” cried Vic, making a face. + +But Patricia was quite unabashed. “I am going to have him just as often +as I can,” she said, brazenly. + +For a few minutes they stood watching the dancers on the floor below. It +was indeed, as Mrs. Templeton had said, a “mixed multitude.” Mill +hands and their girls, townsfolk whose social standing was sufficiently +assured to endure the venture. A mixed multitude, but thoroughly jolly, +making up in vigour what was lacking in grace in their exposition of the +Terpsichorean art. + +“Rather ghastly,” said Rupert, who appeared to be quite disgusted with +the whole evening's proceedings. + +“Lovely!” exclaimed Patricia. + +“They are enjoying themselves, at any rate,” said Adrien, “and, after +all, that is what people dance for.” + +“Stacks of fun. I am all for it, eh, Pat?” said Vic, making adoring eyes +at the young girl. + +But Patricia severely ignored him. + +“Oh, Adrien, look!” she cried suddenly. “There is Annette, and who is +the big man with her? Oh, what an awful dancer he is! But Annette, isn't +she wonderful! What a lovely dress! I think she is the most beautiful +thing.” And Patricia was right, for Annette was radiant in colour and +unapproachable in the grace of her movement. + +“By Jove! She is a wonder!” said Vic. “Some dancer, if she only had a +chance.” + +“Well, why don't you go down, Vic,” said Patricia sharply. “You know you +are just aching to show off your fox trot. Run away, little boy, I won't +mind.” + +“I don't believe you would,” replied Vic ruefully. + +For some minutes longer they all stood watching the scene below. + +“They are a jolly crowd,” said Adrien. “I don't think we have half the +fun at our dances.” + +“They certainly get a lot for their money,” said Vic. “But wait till +they come to 'turkey-in-the-straw!' That is where they really cut +loose.” + +“Oh, pshaw!” cried Patricia. “I can 'turkey' myself. Just wait and +you'll see.” + +“So can I,” murmured Vic. “Will you let me in on it? Hello,” he +continued, “there is the Captain and Annette. Now look out for high art. +I know the Captain's style. And a two-step! My eye! She is a little airy +fairy!” + +“How beautifully she dances,” said Adrien. “And how charmingly she is +dressed.” + +“They do hit it off, don't they,” said Rupert. “They evidently know each +other's paces.” + +Suddenly Adrien turned to Hugh: “Don't you think we should go down?” she +asked. “You know we must not stay late.” + +“Yes, do come along!” cried Patricia, seizing Victor by the arm and +hurrying to the stairs, the others making their way more leisurely to +the dancing room. + +The hall was a scene of confused hilarity. Maitland was nowhere to be +seen. + +“Oh! let us dance, Vic!” cried Patricia. “There is really no use waiting +for Captain Jack. At any rate, Adrien will claim the first dance.” + +No second invitation was needed and together they swung off into the +medley of dancers. + +“We may as well follow,” said Hugh. “We shall doubtless run into +Maitland somewhere before long.” + +But not in that dance, nor in the three successive dances did Maitland +appear. The precious moments were slipping by. Patricia was becoming +more and more anxious and fretful at the non-appearance of her hero. +Also, Hugh began to notice and detect a lagging in his partner's step. + +“Shall we go out into the corridor?” he said. “This air is beginning to +be rather trying.” + +From the crowded hall they passed into the corridor, from which opened +side rooms which were used as dressing and retiring rooms, and whose +entrances were cleverly screened by a row of thick spruce trees set up +for the occasion. + +“This is better,” said Hugh, drawing a deep breath. “Shall we sit a bit +and rest?” + +“Oh, do let us,” said Adrien. “This has been a strenuous and exciting +evening. I really feel quite done out. Here is a most inviting seat.” + +Wearily she sat down on a bench which faced the entrance to one of the +rooms. + +“Shall I bring you a glass of water or an ice, Adrien?” inquired Hugh, +noting the pallor in her face. + +“Thank you. A glass of water, if you will be so kind. How deliciously +fragrant that spruce is.” + +As her partner set off upon his errand, Adrien stepped to the spruce +tree which screened the open door of the room opposite, and taking +the bosky branches in her hands, she thrust her face into the aromatic +foliage. + +“How deliciously fragrant,” she murmured. + +Suddenly, as if stabbed by a spine in the trees, she started back and +stood gazing through the thick branches into the room beyond There +stood Maitland and Annette, the girl, with her face tearfully pale and +pleading, uplifted to his and with her hands gripped tight and held fast +in his, clasped against his breast. More plainly than words her face, +her eyes, her attitude told her tale. She was pouring out her very soul +to him in entreaty, and he was giving eager, sympathetic heed to her +appeal. + +Swiftly Adrien stepped back from the screening tree, her face white as +if from a stunning blow, her heartbeats checking her breath. Quickly, +blindly, she ran down the corridor. At the very end she met Hugh with a +glass of water in his hand. + +“What is the matter, Adrien? Have you seen a ghost?” he cried in an +anxious voice. + +She caught the glass from his hand and began to drink, at first +greedily, then more slowly. + +“Ah!” she said, drawing a deep breath. “That is good. Do you know, I +was almost overcome. The air of that room is quite deadly. Now I am all +right. Let us get a breath from the outside, Hugh.” + +Taking him by the arm, she hastened him to the farther end of the +corridor and opened the door. “Oh, delicious!” She drew in deep breaths +of the cold, fresh air. + +“How wonderful the night is, Hugh.” She leaned far out, “and the snow +was like a cloth of silver and diamonds in this glorious moon.” She +stooped, and from a gleaming bank beside the door she caught up a double +handful of the snow and, packing it into a little ball, flung it at her +partner, catching him fairly on the ear. + +“Aha!” she cried. “Don't ever say a woman is a poor shot. Now then,” she +added, stamping her feet free from the clinging flakes and waving her +hands in the air to dry them, “I feel fit for anything. Let us have one +more dance before we go home, for I feel we really must go.” + +“You are sure you are quite fit?” inquired Hugh, still anxious for her. + +“Fit? Look at me!” Her cheeks were bright with colour, her eyes with +light. + +“You surely do look fit,” said Hugh, beaming at her with frank +admiration. “But you were all in a few moments ago.” + +“Come along. There is a way into the hall by this door,” she cried, +catching his hand and hurrying him into the dancing room again. + +At the conclusion of their dance they came upon Patricia near the main +entrance, in great distress. “I have not seen Captain Jack anywhere,” + she lamented. “Have you, Adrien? I have just sent Vic for a final +search. I simply cannot go home till I have had my dance.” The girl was +almost in tears. + +“Never mind, dear,” said Adrien. “He has many duties to-night with +all these players to look after. I think we had better go whenever Vic +returns. I am awfully sorry for you, Patricia,” she added. “No! Don't! +You simply must not cry here.” She put her arm around her sister's +shoulder, her own lips trembling, and drew her close. “Where has Vic +gone, I wonder?” + +That young man, however, was having his own trials. In his search for +Maitland he ran across McNish, whom he recognised as Annette's partner +in the first dance. + +“Hello!” he cried. “Do you know where Captain Maitland is, by any +chance?” + +“No, how should I know,” replied McNish, in a voice fiercely guttural. + +“Oh!” said Vic, somewhat abashed. “I saw you dance with Annette--with +Miss Perrotte--and I thought perhaps you might know where the Captain +was.” + +McNish stood glowering at him for a moment or two, then burst forth: + +“They are awa'--he's ta'en her awa'.” + +“Away,” said Vic. “Where?” + +“To hell for all I ken or care.” + +Then with a single stride McNish was close at his side, gripping his arm +with fingers that seemed to reach the bone. + +“Ye're a friend o' his. Let me say tae ye if ony ill cames tae her, by +the leevin' God above us he wull answer tae me.” Hoarse, panting, his +face that of a maniac, he stood glaring wild-eyed at the young man +before him. To say that Vic was shaken by this sudden and violent +onslaught would be much within the truth. Nevertheless he boldly faced +the passion-distracted man. + +“Look here! I don't know who you are or what you mean,” he said, in as +steady tones as he could summon, “but if you suggest that any girl will +come to harm from Captain Maitland, then I say you are a liar and a +fool.” So speaking, little Vic set himself for the rush which he was +firmly convinced would come. McNish, however, stood still, fighting for +control. Then, between his deep-drawn breaths, he slowly spoke: + +“Ye may be richt. A hope tae God A am baith liar and fule.” The agony in +his face moved Vic to pity. + +“I say, old chap,” he said, “you are terribly mistaken somehow, I can +swear to that. Where is Maitland, anyway, do you know?” + +“They went away together.” McNish had suddenly gotten himself in hand. +“They went away in his car, secretly.” + +“Secretly,” said Vic, scornfully. “Now, that is perfect rot. Look here, +do you know Captain Maitland? I am his friend, and let me tell you that +all I ever hope to own, here and hereafter, and all my relatives and +friends, I would gladly trust with him.” + +“Maybe, maybe,” muttered McNish. “Ye may be richt. A apologise, sir, but +if--” His eyes blazed again. + +“Aw, cut out the tragedy stuff,” said Vic, “and don't be an ass. +Good-night.” + +Vic turned on his heel and left McNish standing in a dull and dazed +condition, and made his way toward the ballroom. + +“Who is the Johnny, anyway?” he said to himself. “He is +mad--looney--utterly bughouse. Needs a keeper in the worst way. But what +about the Captain--must think up something. Let's see. Taken +suddenly ill? Hardly--there is the girl to account for. Her +mother--grandmother--or something--stricken--let's see. Annette has +a brother--By Jove! the very thing--I've got it--brother met with an +accident--run over--fell down a well--anything. Hurry call--ambulance +stuff. Good line. Needs working up a bit, though. What has happened to +my grey matter? Let me think. Ah, yes--when that Johnny brought word +of an accident, a serious accident to her brother, Maitland, naturally +enough, the gallant soul, hurries her off in his car, sending word by +aforesaid mad Johnny.” + +Vic went to the outer door, feeling the necessity for a somewhat careful +conning of his tale to give it, as he said himself, a little artistic +verisimilitude. Then, with his lesson--as he thought--well learned, and +praying for aid of unknown gods, he went back to find his partner. + +“If only Patricia will keep out of it,” he said to himself as he neared +the hall door, “or if I could only catch old Hugh first. But he is not +much of a help in this sort of thing. Dash it all! I am quite nervous. +This will never do. Must find a way--good effect--cool and collected +stuff.” So, ruminating and praying and moving ever more slowly, he +reached the door. Coming in sight of his party, he hurried to meet them. +“Awfully sorry!” he exclaimed excitedly. “The most rotten luck! Old +Maitland's just been called off.” + +“Called off!” cried Patricia, in dismay. “Where to!” + +“Now, don't jump at me like that. Remember my heart. Met that +Johnny--the big chap dancing with Annette, you know--just met him--quite +worked up--a hurry call for the girl--for the girl, Annette, you know.” + +“The girl!” exclaimed Patricia. “You said Captain Jack.” + +“I know! I know!” replied Vic, somewhat impatiently. “I am a bit +excited, I confess. Rather nasty thing--Annette's brother, you +know--something wrong--accident, I think. Couldn't get the particulars.” + +“But Annette's brother is in Toronto,” said Adrien, gravely. + +“Exactly!” cried Vic. “That is what I have been telling you. A hurry +call--phone message for Annette--horrible accident. Maitland rushed her +right away in his car to catch the midnight to Toronto.” + +“By Jove! That is too bad,” said Hugh, a genuine sympathy in his honest +voice. “That is hard luck on poor Annette. Tony is not exactly a safe +proposition, you know.” + +“Was he--is he killed?” cried Patricia, in a horror-stricken voice. + +“Killed! Not a bit of it,” said Vic cheerfully. “Slight injury--but +serious, I mean. You know, just enough to cause anxiety.” Vic lit +another cigarette with ostentatious deliberation. “Nasty shock, you +know,” he said. + +“Who told you all this?” inquired Rupert. + +“Who told me?” said Vic. “Why, that mad Johnny.” + +“Mad Johnny? What mad Johnny?” + +Vic said: “Eh! What? You know, that--ahr--big chap who was falling over +her in the fox trot. Looked kind of crazy, you know--big chap--Scotch.” + +“Where is he now?” enquired Rupert. + +“Oh, I fancy about there, somewhere,” replied Vic, remembering that he +had seen McNish moving toward the door. “Better go and look him up and +get more particulars. Might help some, you know.” + +“Oh, Adrien, let us go to her,” said Patricia. “I am sure Annette would +love to have you. Poor Annette!” + +“Oh! I say!” interposed Vic hurriedly. “There is really no necessity. I +shouldn't like to intrude in family affairs and that sort of thing, you +know what I mean.” + +Adrien's grave, quiet eyes were upon Vic's face. “You think we had +better not go, then,” she said slowly. + +“Sure thing!” replied Vic, with cheerful optimism. “There is no +necessity--slight accident--no need to make a fuss about it.” + +“But you said it was a serious accident--a terrible thing,” said +Patricia. + +“Oh, now, Patricia, come out of it. You check a fellow up so hard. Can't +you understand the Johnny was so deucedly worked up over it he +couldn't give me the right of it. Dash it all! Let's have another turn, +Patricia!” + +But Adrien said: “I think we will go home, Hugh.” + +“Very well, if you think so, Adrien. I don't fancy you need worry over +Annette. The accident probably is serious but not dangerous. Tony is a +tough fellow.” + +“Exactly!” exclaimed Vic. “Just as I have been telling you. Serious, but +not dangerous. At least, that was the impression I got.” + +“Oh, Vic, you are so terribly confusing!” exclaimed Patricia. “Why can't +you get things straight? I say, Adrien, we can ride round to Annette's +on our way home, and then we will get things quite clearly.” + +“Certainly,” said Hugh. “It will only take us a minute. Eh, what!” he +added to Vic, who was making frantic grimaces at him. “Well, if you +ladies will get your things, we will go.” + +“But I am so disappointed,” said Patricia to Adrien, as they went to +their dressing room together. + +After they had gone, Hugh turned upon Vic: “Now then, what the deuce and +all are you driving at?” + +“Driving at!” cried Vic, in an exasperated tone. “You are a sweet +support for a fellow in distress. I am a nervous wreck--a perfect mess. +Another word from that kid and I should have run screaming into the +night. And as for you, why the deuce didn't you buck up and help a +fellow out?” + +“Help you out? How in the name of all that is reasonable could I help +you out? What is all the yarn about? Of course I know it isn't true. +Where's Maitland?” + +“Search me,” said Vic. “All I know is that I hit upon that Scotch Johnny +out in the hall--he nearly wrenched an arm off me and did everything +but bite--spitting out incoherent gaspings indicating that Maitland +had 'gone awa' wi' his gur-r-l, confound him!' and suggesting the usual +young Lochinvar stuff. You know--nothing in it, of course. But what was +I to do? Some tale was necessary! Fortunately or unfortunately, brother +Tony sprang to the thing I call my mind and--well, you know the mess +I made of it. But Hugh, remember, for heaven's sake, make talk about +something--about the match--and get that girl quietly home. I bag the +back seat and Adrien. It is hard on me, I know, but fifteen minutes +more of Patsy and I shall be counting my tootsies and prattling nursery +rhymes. Here they come,” he breathed. “Now, 'a little forlorn hope, +deadly breach act, if you love me, Hardy.' Play up, old boy!” + +And with commendable enthusiasm and success, Hugh played up, +supported--as far as his physical and mental condition allowed--by +the enfeebled Vic, till they had safely deposited their charges at the +Rectory door, whence, refusing an invitation to stop for cocoa, they +took their homeward way. + +“'And from famine, pestilence and sudden death,' and from the once-over +by that penetrating young female, 'good Lord, deliver us,'” murmured +Vic, falling into the seat beside his friend. “Take me home to mother,” + he added, and refused further speech till at his own door. He waved a +weak adieu and staggered feebly into the house. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE NEW MANAGER + + +Grant Maitland sat in his office, plainly disturbed in his mind. His +resolute face, usually reflecting the mental repose which arises from +the consciousness of a strength adequate to any emergency, carried lines +which revealed a mind which had lost its poise. Reports from his foremen +indicated brooding trouble, and this his own observation within the last +few weeks confirmed. Production was noticeably falling low. The attitude +of the workers suggested suspicion and discontent. That fine glow of +comradeship which had been characteristic of all workers in the Maitland +Mills had given place to a sullen aloofness and a shiftiness of eye that +all too plainly suggested evil forces at work. + +During the days immediately preceding and following the Great Match, +there had been a return of that frank and open bearing that had +characterised the employees of the Maitland Mills in the old days, but +that fleeting gleam of sunshine had faded out and the old grey shadow +of suspicion, of discontent, had fallen again. To Maitland this attitude +brought a disappointment and a resentment which sensibly added to his +burden, already heavy enough in these days of weakening markets and +falling prices. In his time he had come through periods of financial +depression. He was prepared for one such period now, but he had never +passed through the unhappy experience of a conflict with his own +employees. Not that he had ever feared a fight, but he shrank from a +fight with his own men. It humiliated him. He felt it to be a reflection +upon his system of management, upon his ability to lead and control, +indeed, upon his personality. But, more than all, it grieved him to feel +that he had lost that sense of comradeship which for forty years he +had been able to preserve with those who toiled with him in a common +enterprise. + +A sense of loneliness fell upon him. Like many a man, self-made and +self-sufficing, he craved companionship which his characteristic +qualities of independence and strength seemed to render unnecessary and +undesired. The experience of all leaders of men was his, for the leader +is ever a lonely man. + +This morning the reports he had just received convinced him that a +strike with his workers would not long be delayed. “If I only knew what +they really wanted,” he bitterly mused. “It cannot be wages. Their wages +are two or three times what they were before the war--shop conditions +are all that could be desired--the Lord knows I have spent enough in +this welfare stuff and all that sort of thing during these hard times. +I have heard of no real grievances. I am sick of it all. I guess I am +growing too old for this sort of thing.” + +There was a tap at the door and his son appeared, with a cheery +greeting. + +“Come in, Jack,” said his father, “I believe you are the very man I +want.” + +“Hello, Dad. You look as if you were in trouble.” + +“Well,” replied his father with a keen look at him, “I think I may +return the compliment.” + +“Well, yes, but perhaps I should not bother you. You have all you can +carry.” + +“All I can carry,” echoed Maitland, picking up the reports from his +desk and handing them to his son, who glanced over them. “Things are not +going well at the mills. No, you needn't tell me. You know I never ask +you for any confidences about your brother unionists.” + +“Right you are, Dad. You have always played the game.” + +“Well, I must confess this is beyond me. Everywhere on the men's faces +I catch that beastly look of distrust and suspicion. I hate to work with +men like that. And very obviously, trouble is brewing, but what it is, +frankly, it is beyond me to know.” + +“Well, it is hardly a secret any longer,” said Jack. “Trouble is coming, +Dad, though what form it shall take I am not in a position to say. Union +discipline is a fierce thing. The rank and file are not taken into +the confidence of the leaders. Policies are decided upon in the secret +councils of the Great Ones and handed down to us to adopt. Of course, it +is open to any man to criticise, and I am bound to say that the rankers +exercise that privilege with considerable zest. All the same, however, +it is difficult to overturn an administration, hard to upset established +order. The thing that is, is the thing that ought to be. Rejection of an +administration policy demands revolution.” + +“Well,” said his father, taking the sheets from Jack's hand, “we needn't +go to meet the trouble. Now, let us have yours. What is your particular +grief?” + +“Tony,” said Jack shortly. + +“Tony?” echoed his father in dismay. “Heaven help us! And what now has +come to Tony? Though I must confess I have been expecting this for some +time. It had to come.” + +“It is a long story, Dad, and I shan't worry you with the details. As +you know, after leaving us, Tony went from one job to another with the +curve steadily downwards. For the last few months, I gather, he has +been living on his wits, helped out by generous contributions from his +sister's wages. Finally he was given a subordinate position under +'The Great War Veterans' who have really been very decent to him. This +position involved the handling of funds--no great amount. Then it was +the old story--gambling and drinking--the loss of all control--desperate +straits--hoping to recoup his losses--and you know the rest.” + +“Embezzlement?” asked Maitland. + +“Yes, embezzlement,” said Jack. “Tony is not a thief. He didn't +deliberately steal, you understand.” + +“Jack,” said his father, sharply, “get that out of your head. There is +no such distinction in law or in fact. Stealing is stealing, whatever +the motive behind it, whatever the plan governing it, by whatever name +called.” + +“I didn't really mean anything else, Dad. Tony did the thing, at any +rate, and the cops were on his trail. He got into hiding, sent an S. O. +S. to his sister. Annette, driven to desperation, came to me with her +story the night of the Match. She was awfully cut up, poor girl. I had +to leave the dance and go right off to Toronto. Too late for the train, +I drove straight through,--ghastly roads,--found Tony, fetched him back, +and up till yesterday he has been hiding in his own home. Meantime, +I managed to get things fixed up--paid his debts, the prosecution is +withdrawn and now he wants,--or, rather, he doesn't want but needs, a +job.” + +Maitland listened with a grave face. “Then the little girl was right, +after all,” he said. + +“Meaning?” + +“Patricia,” said his father. “She told me a long story of a terrible +accident to Tony that had called you away to Toronto. I must say it was +rather incoherent.” + +“But who told her? I swear not a soul knew but his people and myself,” + said Jack. + +“Strange how things get out,” said his father. “Well, where is Tony +now?” + +“Here, in the outer office.” + +“But,” said Maitland, desperately, “where can we place him? He is +impossible in any position--dangerous in the office, useless as a +foreman, doubtful and uncertain as a workman.” + +“One thing is quite certain,” said Jack decidedly, “he must be under +discipline. He is useless on his own. I thought that perhaps he might +work beside me. I could keep an eye on him. Tony has nothing in him +to work with. I should like to hear old Matheson on him--the Reverend +Murdo, I mean. That is a great theme of his--'To the man who has nothing +you can give nothing.'” + +“Matheson?” said Maitland. “A chum of yours, I understand. Radical, eh?” + +“A very decent sort, father,” replied Jack. “I have been doing a little +economics with him during the winter. His radicalism is of a sound type, +I think. He is a regular bear at economics and he is even better at the +humanity business, the brother-man stuff. He is really sound there.” + +“I can guess what you mean,” said his father, “though I don't quite +catch on to all your jargon. But I confess that I suspect there is a +whole lot of nonsense associated with these theories.” + +“You will pardon me, Dad,” said Jack, “if I suggest that your education +is really not yet complete.” + +“Whose is?” inquired his father, curtly. + +“But about Tony,” continued Jack, “I wish I had him in a gang under me. +I would work him, or break his neck.” + +His father sat silently pondering for some minutes. Then, as if making +a sudden resolve, he said: “Jack, I have been wanting to speak with +you about something for some weeks. I have come to a place where it is +imperative that I get some relief from my load. You see, I am carrying +the whole burden of management practically alone. I look after the +financing, the markets, I keep an eye on production and even upon the +factory management. In normal conditions I could manage to get along, +but in these critical days, when every department calls for close, +constant and sane supervision, I feel that I must have relief. If I +could be relieved of the job of shop management, I could give myself +to the other departments where the situation at present is extremely +critical. I want a manager, Jack. Why not take the job? Now,” he +continued, holding up his hand, as his son was about to speak, “listen +for a moment or two. I have said the situation is serious. Let me +explain that. The financing of this business in the present crisis +requires a man's full time and energy. Markets, credits, collections, +all demand the very closest attention.” + +Jack glanced at his father's face. For the first time he noticed how +deep-cut were the lines that indicated care, anxiety and worry. A sudden +remorse seized him. + +“I am awfully sorry, sir,” he said, “I have not been of much help to +you.” + +Maitland waved his hand as if dismissing the suggestion. “Now you know +nothing of the financial side, but you do know men and you can handle +them. You proved that in the war, and, in another way, you proved that +during this recent athletic contest. I followed that very closely and I +say without hesitation that it was a remarkably fine bit of work and the +reactions were of the best. Jack, I believe that you would make a great +manager if you gave yourself to it, and thought it worth while. Now, +listen to me.” Thereupon the father proceeded to lay before his son the +immediately pressing problems in the business--the financial obligations +already assumed, the heavy accumulation of stock for which there were no +markets, the increasing costs in production with no hope of relief, but +rather every expectation of added burdens in this direction. + +As he listened to his father, Jack was appalled with what he considered +the overwhelmingly disastrous situation in which the business was +placed. At the same time he saw his father in a new light. This silent, +stern, reserved man assumed a role of hero in his eyes, facing desperate +odds and silently fighting a lonely and doubtful battle. The son was +smitten with a sense of his own futility. In him was born a desire and +a resolve to stand beside his father in this conflict and if the battle +went against them, to share in the defeat. + +“Dad,” cried his son impulsively, “I am a rotter. I have been of no help +to you, but only a burden. I had no idea the situation was so serious.” + Remorse and alarm showed in his tone. + +“Don't misunderstand me,” said his father. “This is new to you and +appears more serious than it is. There is really no ground, or little +ground, for anxiety or alarm. Let me give you the other side.” Then he +proceeded to set forth the resources of the business, the extent of +his credit, his plans to meet the present situation and to prepare for +possible emergencies. “We are not at the wall yet, by any means, Jack,” + he said, his voice ringing out with a resolute courage. “But I am bound +to say that if any sudden or untoward combination of circumstances, a +strike, for instance, should arise, disaster might follow.” + +Jack's heart sank still lower. He was practically certain that a +strike was imminent. Although without any official confirmation of his +suspicions, he had kept his eyes and ears opened and he was convinced +that trouble was unavoidable. As his father continued to set forth his +plans, his admiration for him grew. He brought to bear upon the problems +with which he was grappling a clear head, wide knowledge and steady +courage. He was a general, planning a campaign in the face of serious +odds. He recalled a saying of his old Commander-in-Chief in France: “War +is a business and will be won by the application of business principles +and business methods. Given a body of fighting men such as I command, +the thing becomes a problem of transportation, organization, reserve, +insurance. War is a business and will be won by fighting men directed or +governed by business principles.” He was filled with regret that he had +not given himself more during these last months to the study of these +principles. The prospect of a fight against impending disaster touched +his imagination and stimulated him like a bugle call. + +“I see what you want, father,” he said. “You want to have some good N. +C. O.'s. The N. C. O. is the backbone of the army,” he quoted with a +grin. + +“N. C. O?” echoed his father. He was not sufficiently versed in military +affairs to catch the full meaning of the army rag. + +“What I mean is,” said Jack, “that no matter how able a military +commander is, he must have efficient subordinates to carry on. No +Colonel can do his own company and platoon work.” + +His father nodded: “You've got it, Jack. I want a manager to whom I can +entrust a policy without ever having to think of it again. I don't want +a man who gets on top of the load, but one who gets under it.” + +“You want a good adjutant, father, and a sergeant-major.” + +“I suppose so,” said the father, “although your military terms are +a little beyond me. After all, the thing is simple enough. On the +management side, we want increase in production, which means decrease in +production costs, and this means better organization of the work and the +workers.” + +Jack nodded and after a moment, said: “May I add, sir, one thing more?” + +“Yes,” said his father. + +“Team play,” said Jack. “That is my specialty, you know. Individualism +in a game may be spectacularly attractive, but it doesn't get the goal.” + +“Team play,” said his father. “Co-operation, I suppose you mean. My dear +boy, this is no time for experimentation in profit-sharing schemes, if +that is what you are after. Anyway, the history of profiteering schemes +as I have read it is not such as to warrant entire confidence in their +soundness. You cannot change the economic system overnight.” + +“That is true enough, Dad,” said his son, “and perhaps I am a fool. But +I remember, and you remember, what everybody said, and especially what +the experts said, about the military methods and tactics before the war. +You say you cannot change the economic system overnight, and yet the +whole military system was changed practically overnight. In almost every +particular, there was a complete revolution. Cavalry, fortress defences, +high explosives, the proper place for machine guns, field tactics, +in fact, the whole business was radically changed. And if we hadn't +changed, they would be speaking German in the schools of England, like +enough, by this time.” + +“Jack, you may be right,” said his father, with a touch of impatience, +“but I don't want to be worried just now. It is easy enough for your +friend, Matheson, and other academic industrial directors, to suggest +experiments with other people's money. If we could only get production, +I would not mind very much what wages we had to pay. But I confess when +industrial strife is added to my other burdens, it is almost more than I +can bear.” + +“I am awfully sorry, Dad,” replied his son. “I have no wish to worry +you, but how are you going to get production? Everybody says it has +fallen off terribly during and since the war. How are you going to bring +it up? Not by the pay envelope, I venture to say, and that is why I +suggested team play. And I am not thinking about co-operative schemes +of management, either. Some way must be found to interest the fellows in +their job, in the work itself, as distinct from the financial returns. +Unless the chaps are interested in the game, they won't get the goals.” + +“My boy,” said his father wearily, “that old interest in work is gone. +That old pride in work which we used to feel when I was at the job +myself, is gone. We have a different kind of workman nowadays.” + +“Dad, don't believe that,” said Jack. “Remember the same thing was said +before the war. We used to hear all about that decadent race stuff. The +war proved it to be all rot. The race is as fine as ever it was. Our +history never produced finer fighting men.” + +“You may be right,” said his father. “If we could only get rid of these +cursed agitators.” + +“There again, Dad, if you will excuse me, I believe you are mistaken. +I have been working with these men for the last nine months, I have +attended very regularly the meetings of their unions and I have studied +the whole situation with great care. The union is a great institution. I +am for it heart and soul. It is soundly and solidly democratic, and the +agitators cut very little figure. I size up the whole lot about this +way: Fifty per cent of the men are steady-going fellows with ambition to +climb; twenty-five per cent are content to grub along for the day's pay +and with no great ambition worrying them. Of the remainder, ten per +cent are sincere and convinced reformers, more or less half-baked +intellectuals; ten per cent love the sound of their own voices, hate +work and want to live by their jaw, five per cent only are unscrupulous +and selfish agitators. But, Dad, believe me, fire-brands may light +fires, but solid fagots only can keep fires going. You cannot make +conflagrations out of torches alone.” + +“That is Matheson, I suppose,” said his father, smiling at him. + +“Well, I own up. I have got a lot of stuff from Matheson. All the same I +believe I have fairly sized up the labour situation.” + +“Boy, boy,” said his father, “I am tired of it all. I believe with some +team play you and I could make it go. Alone, I am not so sure. Will you +take the job?” + +There was silence between them for a few minutes. Then Jack answered +slowly: “I am not sure of myself at all, Dad, but I can see you must +have someone and I am willing to try the planing mill.” + +“Thank you, boy,” said his father, stretching his hand quickly across +the table, “I will back you up and won't worry you. Within reasonable +limits I will give you a free hand.” + +“I know you will, Dad,” said Jack, “and of course I have been in the +army long enough to know the difference between the O. C. and the +sergeant-major.” + +“Now, what about Tony?” inquired Maitland, reverting suddenly to what +both felt to be a painful and perplexing problem. “What are we to do +with him?” + +“I will take him on,” said Jack. “I suppose I must.” + +“He will be a heavy handicap to you, boy. Is there no other way?” + +“I see no other way,” Jack replied. “I will give him a trial. Shall I +bring him in?” + +“Bring him in.” + +In a minute or two Jack returned with Tony. As Maitland's eyes fell upon +him, he could not prevent a start of shocked surprise. + +“Why, Tony!” he exclaimed. “What in all the world is wrong with you? You +are ill.” Trembling, pale, obviously unstrung, Tony stood before him, +his shifty eyes darting now at one face, then at the other, his hands +restless, his whole appearance suggesting an imminent nervous collapse. +“Why, Tony, boy, what is wrong with you?” repeated Maitland. The kindly +tone proved too much for Tony's self-control. He gulped, choked, and +stood speechless, his eyes cast down to the floor. + +“Sit down, Tony,” said Maitland. “Give him a chair, Jack.” + +But Jack said, “He doesn't need a chair. He is not here for a visit. You +wanted to say something to him, did you not?” Jack's dry, matter-of-fact +and slightly contemptuous tone had an instant and extraordinary effect +upon the wretched man beside him. + +Instantly, Tony stiffened up. His head went back, he cast a swift glance +at Jack's face, whose smile, slightly quizzical, slightly contemptuous, +appeared to bite into his vitals. A hot flame of colour swept his pale +and pasty face. + +“I want a job, sir,” he said, in a tone low and fierce, looking straight +at Mr. Maitland. + +Maitland, taking his cue from his son, replied in a quiet voice: “Can +you hold a job?” + +“God knows,” said Tony. + +“He does,” replied Maitland, “but what about you?” + +Tony stood for a few moments saying nothing, darting uncertain glances +now and then at Jack, on whose face still lingered the smile which Tony +found so disturbing. + +“If you want work,” continued Mr. Maitland, “and want to make it go, +Tony, you can go with Jack. He will give it to you.” + +“Jack!” exclaimed Tony. His face was a study. Uncertainty, fear, hope, +disappointment were all there. + +“Yes, Jack,” said Mr. Maitland. “He is manager in these works now.” + +Tony threw back his head and laughed. “I guess I will have to work, +then,” he said. + +“You just bet you will, Tony,” replied Jack. “Come along, we will go.” + +“Where?” + +“I am taking you home. See you to-night, sir,” Jack added, nodding to +his father. + +The two young men passed out together to the car. + +“Yes, Tony,” said Jack, “I have taken over your job.” + +“My job? What do you mean by that?” asked Tony, bitter and sullen in +face and tone. + +“I am the new manager of the planing mill. Dad had you slated for that +position, but you hadn't manager-timber in you.” + +Tony's answer was an oath, deep and heartfelt. + +“Yes,” continued Jack, “manager-timber is rare and slow-growing stuff, +Tony.” + +Again Tony swore but kept silence, and so remained till they had reached +his home. Together they walked into the living room. There they found +Annette, and with her McNish. Both rose upon their entrance, McNish +showing some slight confusion, and assuming the attitude of a bulldog on +guard, Annette vividly eager, expectant, anxious. + +“Well,” she cried, her hands going fluttering to her bosom. + +“I have got a job, Annette,” said Tony, with a short laugh. “Here is my +boss.” + +For a moment the others stood looking at Jack, surprised into motionless +silence. + +“I tell you, he is the new manager,” repeated Tony, “and he is my boss.” + +“What does he mean, Jack?” cried the girl, coming forward to Maitland +with a quick, impulsive movement. + +“Just what he says, Annette. I am the new manager of the planing mill +and I have given Tony a job.” + +Again there fell a silence. Into the eyes of the bulldog McNish there +shot a strange gleam of something that seemed almost like pleasure. In +those brief moments of silence life was readjusting itself with them +all. Maitland had passed from the rank and file of the workers into the +class of those who direct and control their work. Bred as they were and +trained as they were in the democratic atmosphere of Canada, they were +immediately conscious of the shifting of values. + +Annette was the first to break silence. “I wish I could thank you,” she +said, “but I cannot. I cannot.” The girl's face had changed. The eager +light had faded from her dark eyes, her hands dropped quietly to her +side. “But I am sure you know,” she added after a pause, “how very, very +grateful I am, how grateful we all are, Mr. Maitland.” + +“Annette,” said Jack severely, “drop that 'Mr.' stuff. I was your friend +yesterday. Am I any less your friend to-day? True enough, I am Tony's +boss, but Tony is my friend--that is, if he wants to have it so. You +must believe this, Annette.” + +He offered her his hand. With a sudden impulse she took it in both of +hers and held it hard against her breast, her eyes meanwhile burning +into his with a look of adoration, open and unashamed. She apparently +forgot the others in the room. + +“Jack,” she cried, her voice thrilling with passion, “I don't care what +you are. I don't care what you think. I will never, never forget what +you have done for me.” + +Maitland flung a swift glance at McNish and was startled at the look of +rage, of agonised rage, that convulsed his face. + +“My dear Annette,” he said, with a light laugh, “don't make too much of +it. I was glad to help Tony and you. Why shouldn't I help old friends?” + +As he was speaking they heard the sound of a door closing and looking +about, Jack found that McNish had gone, to be followed by Tony a moment +or two later. + +“Oh, never mind him,” cried Annette, answering Jack's look of surprise. +“He has to go to work. And it doesn't matter in the least.” + +Jack was vaguely disturbed by McNish's sudden disappearance. + +“But, Annette,” he said, “I don't want McNish to think that I--that +you--” + +“What?” She leaned toward him, her face all glowing with warm and eager +light, her eyes aflame, her bosom heaving. “What, Jack?” she whispered. +“What does it matter what he thinks?” + +He put out his hands. With a quick, light step she was close to him, her +face lifted up in passionate surrender. Swiftly Jack's arms went around +her and he drew her toward him. + +“Annette, dear,” he said, and his voice was quiet and kind, too kind. +“You are a dear girl and a good girl, and I am glad to have helped you +and shall always be glad to help you.” + +The door opened and Tony slipped into the room. With passionate +violence, Annette threw away the encircling arms. + +“Ah!” she cried, a sob catching her voice. “You--you shame me. No--I +shame myself.” Rigid, with head flung back, she stood before him, her +eyes ablaze with passionate anger, her hands clenched tight. She had +flung herself at him and had been rejected. + +“What the devil is this?” cried Tony, striding toward them. “What is he +doing to you, Annette?” + +“He?” cried Annette, her breath coming in sobs. “To me? Nothing! Keep +out of it, Tony.” She pushed him fiercely aside. “He has done nothing! +No! No! Nothing but what is good and kind. Ah! kind. Yes, kind.” Her +voice rose shrill in scorn of herself and of him. “Oh, yes, he is kind.” + She laughed wildly, then broke into passionate tears. She turned from +them and fled to her room, leaving the two men looking at each other. + +“Poor child,” said Jack, the first to recover speech. “She is quite all +in. She has had two hard weeks of it.” + +“Two hard weeks,” repeated Tony, his eyes glaring. “What is the matter +with my sister? What have you done to her?” His voice was like the growl +of a savage dog. + +“Don't be a confounded fool, Tony,” replied Jack. “You ought to know +what is the matter with your sister. You have had something to do with +it. And now your job is to see if you can make it up to her. To-morrow +morning, at seven o'clock, remember,” he said curtly, and, turning on +his heel, he passed out. + +It seemed to Jack as he drove home that life had suddenly become a +tangle of perplexities and complications. First there was Annette. He +was genuinely distressed as he thought of the scene through which they +had just passed. That he himself had anything to do with her state of +mind did not occur to him. + +“Poor little girl,” he said to himself, “she really needs a change of +some sort, a complete rest. We must find some way of helping her. She +will be all right in a day or two.” With which he dismissed the subject. + +Then there was McNish. McNish was a sore puzzle to him. He had come +to regard the Scotchman with a feeling of sincere friendliness. He +remembered gratefully his ready and efficient help against the attacks +of the radical element among his fellow workmen. On several occasions +he, with the Reverend Murdo Matheson, had foregathered in the McNish +home to discuss economic problems over a quiet pipe. He was always +conscious of a reserve deepening at times to a sullenness in McNish's +manner, the cause of which he could not certainly discover. That McNish +was possessed of a mentality of more than ordinary power there was +no manner of doubt. Jack had often listened with amazement to his +argumentation with the Reverend Murdo, against whom he proved over and +over again his ability to hold his own, the minister's superiority as +a trained logician being more than counterbalanced by his antagonist's +practical experience. + +As he thought of these evenings, he was ready to believe that his +suspicion of the Scotchman's ill-will toward himself was due largely to +imagination, and yet he could not rid himself of the unpleasant memory +of McNish's convulsed face that afternoon. + +“What the deuce is the matter with the beggar, anyway?” he said to +himself. + +Suddenly a new suggestion came to him. + +“It can't be,” he added, “surely the idiot is not jealous.” Then he +remembered Annette's attitude at the moment, her hands pressing his hard +to her breast, her face lifted up in something more than appeal. +“By Jove! I believe that may be it,” he mused. “And Annette? Had +she observed it? What was in her heart? Was there a reason for the +Scotchman's jealousy on that side?” + +This thought disturbed him greatly. He was not possessed of a larger +measure of self-conceit than falls to the lot of the average young man, +but the thought that possibly Annette had come to regard him other than +as a friend released a new tide of emotion within him. Rapidly he passed +in review many incidents in their association during the months since he +returned from the war, and gradually the conviction forced itself upon +him that possibly McNish was not without some cause for jealousy. It +was rotten luck and was bound to interfere with their present happy +relations. Yet none the less was he conscious that it was not altogether +an unpleasant thought to him that in some subtle way a new bond had been +established between this charming young girl and himself. + +But he must straighten things out with McNish at the very first +opportunity. He was a decent chap and would make Annette a first-rate +husband. Indeed, it pleased Jack not a little to feel that he would be +able to further the fortunes of both. McNish had good foreman timber in +him and would make a capable assistant. As to this silly prejudice of +his, Jack resolved that he would take steps immediately to have that +removed. That he could accomplish this he had little doubt. + +But the most acutely pressing of the problems that engaged his mind were +those that arose out of his new position as manager. The mere organizing +and directing of men in their work gave him little anxiety. He was sure +of himself as far as that was concerned. He was sure of his ability +to introduce among the men a system of team play that would result in +increased production and would induce altogether better results. He +thought he knew where the weak spots were. He counted greatly upon the +support of the men who had been associated with him in the Maitland +Mills Athletic Association. With their backing, he was certain that he +could eliminate most of that very considerable wastage in time that +even a cursory observation had revealed to him in the shops, due to +such causes as dilatory workers, idle machines, lack of co-ordination, +improper routing of work, and the like. He had the suspicion that a +little investigation would reveal other causes of wastage as well. + +There was one feature in the situation that gave him concern and that +was the radical element in the unions. Simmons and his gang had from the +very first assumed an attitude of hostility to himself, had sought to +undermine his influence and had fought his plans for the promotion of +clean sport among the Mill men. None knew better than Simmons that an +active interest in clean and vigorous outdoor sports tended to produce +contentment of mind, and a contented body of men offered unfertile soil +for radical and socialistic doctrines. Hence, Simmons had from the first +openly and vociferously opposed with contemptuous and bitter indignation +all Jack's schemes and plans for the promotion of athletic sports. But +Jack had been able to carry the men with him and the recent splendid +victory over a famous team had done much to discredit brother Simmons +and his propaganda. + +Already Jack was planning a new schedule of games for the summer. +Baseball, football, cricket, would give occupation and interest to all +classes of Mill workers. And in his new position he felt he might be +able, to an even greater degree, to carry out the plans which he had +in mind. On the other hand, he knew full well that men were apt to be +suspicious of welfare schemes “promoted from above.” His own hockey men +he felt sure he could carry with him. If he could only win McNish to +be his sergeant-major, success would be assured. This must be his first +care. + +He well knew that McNish had no love for Simmons, whom the Scotchman +despised first, because he was no craftsman, and chiefly because he had +no soundly-based system of economics but was governed by the sheerest +opportunism in all his activities. A combination between McNish and +Simmons might create a situation not easy to deal with. Jack resolved +that that combination should be prevented. He would see McNish at once, +after the meeting of his local, which he remembered was set for that +very night. + +This matter being settled, he determined to proceed immediately to the +office for an interview with Wickes. He must get to know as speedily +as possible something of the shop organization and of its effect upon +production. He found Mr. Wickes awaiting him with tremulous and exultant +delight, eager to put himself, his experience, his knowledge and +all that he possessed at the disposal of the new manager. The whole +afternoon was given to this work, and before the day was done, Jack had +in his mind a complete picture of the planing mill, with every machine +in place and an estimate, more or less exact, of the capacity of every +machine. In the course of this investigation, he was surprised to +discover that there was no detailed record of the actual production +of each machine, nor, indeed, anything in the way of an accurate cost +system in any department of the whole business. + +“How do you keep track of your men and their work, Wickes?” he inquired. + +“Oh!” said the old man, “the foremen know all about that, Mr. Jack.” + +“But how can they know? What check have they?” + +“Well, they are always about, Mr. Jack, and keep their eyes on things +generally.” + +“I see,” said Jack. “And do you find that works quite satisfactorily?” + +“Well, sir, we have never gone into details, you know, Mr. Jack, but if +you wish--” + +“Oh, no, Wickes, I am just trying to get the hang of things, you know.” + Jack was unwilling to even suggest a criticism of method at so early +a stage in his managerial career. “I want to know how you run things, +Wickes, and at any time I shall be glad of assistance from you.” + +The old bookkeeper hastened to give him almost tearful assurance of his +desire to assist to the utmost of his power. + +The meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union was largely attended, +a special whip having been sent out asking for a full meeting on the +ground that a matter of vital importance to unionised labour was to be +considered. + +The matter of importance turned out to be nothing less than a +proposition that the Woodworkers' Union should join with all other +unions in the town to make a united demand upon their respective +employers for an increase in wages and better conditions all around, in +connection with their various industries. The question was brought up in +the form of a resolution from their executive, which strongly urged +that this demand should be approved and that a joint committee should be +appointed to take steps for the enforcement of the demand. The executive +had matters thoroughly in hand. Brother Simmons and the more radical +element were kept to the background, the speakers chosen to present the +case being all moderates. There was no suggestion of extreme measures. +Their demands were reasonable, and it was believed that the employers +were prepared to give fair consideration--indeed, members had had +assurance from an authoritative quarter on the other side that such was +the case. + +Notwithstanding the moderate tone adopted in presenting it, the +resolution met with strenuous opposition. The great majority of those +present were quiet, steady-going men who wanted chiefly to be let alone +at their work and who were hostile to the suggested action, which might +finally land them in “trouble.” The old-time workers in the Maitland +Mills had no grievances against their employer. They, of course, would +gladly accept an increase in wages, for the cost of living was steadily +climbing, but they disliked intensely the proposed method of making a +general demand for an increase in wages and for better conditions. + +The sporting element in the meeting were frankly and fiercely +antagonistic to anything that would disturb the present friendly +relation with their employers in the Maitland Mills. “The old man” had +always done the square thing. He had shown himself a “regular fellow” in +backing them up in all their games during the past year. He had always +given them a fair hearing and a square deal. They would not stand for +any hold-up game of this sort. It was a low-down game, anyway. + +The promoters of the resolution began to be anxious for their cause. +They had not anticipated any such a strong opposition and were rather +nonplussed as to the next move. Brother Simmons was in a fury and was on +the point of breaking forth into a passionate denunciation of scabs and +traitors generally when, to the amazement of all and the intense +delight of the supporters of the administration, McNish arose and gave +unqualified support to the resolution. + +His speech was a masterpiece of diplomacy, and revealed his long +practice in the art of oratory in that best of all training schools, +the labour union of the Old Land. He began by expressing entire +sympathy with the spirit of the opposition. The opposition, however, had +completely misunderstood the intent and purport of the resolution. None +of them desired trouble. There need not be, indeed, he hoped there would +not be trouble, but there were certain very ugly facts that must be +faced. He then, in terse, forceful language, presented the facts +in connection with the cost of living, quoting statistics from the +Department of Labour to show the steady rise in the price of articles +of food, fuel and clothing since the beginning of the war, a truly +appalling array. He had secured price lists from dealers in these +commodities, both wholesale and retail, to show the enormous profits +made during the war. There were returned soldiers present. They had not +hesitated at the call of duty to give all they had for their country. +They had been promised great things when they had left their homes, +their families, their business and their jobs. How had they found things +upon their return? He illustrated his argument from the cases of men +present. It was a sore spot with many of them and he pressed hard upon +it. They were suffering to-day; worse, their wives and children were +suffering. Had anyone heard of their employers suffering? Here again he +offered illustrations of men who had made a good thing out of the war. +True, there were many examples of the other kind of employer, but they +must deal with classes and not individuals in a case like this. This was +part of a much bigger thing than any mere local issue. He drew upon his +experience in the homeland with overwhelming effect. His voice rose and +rolled in his richest Doric as he passionately denounced the tyranny of +the masters in the coal and iron industries in the homeland. He was not +an extremist; he had never been one. Indeed, all who knew him would bear +him out when he said that he had been an opponent of Brother Simmons and +those who thought with him on economic questions. This sudden change in +attitude would doubtless surprise his brothers. He had been forced to +change by the stern logic of facts. There was nothing in this resolution +which any reasonable worker might object to. There was nothing in the +resolution that every worker with any sympathy with his fellow workers +should not support. Moreover, he warned them that if they presented +a united front, there would be little fear of trouble. If they were +divided in their ranks, or if they were halfhearted in their demands, +they would invite opposition and, therefore, trouble. He asked them all +to stand together in supporting a reasonable demand, which he felt sure +reasonable men would consider favorably. + +The effect of his speech was overwhelming. The administration supporters +were exuberant in their enthusiastic applause and in their vociferous +demands for a vote. The opposition were paralysed by the desertion of +one whom they had regarded and trusted as a leader against the radical +element and were left without answer to the masterly array of facts and +arguments which he had presented. + +At this point, the door opened and Maitland walked in. A few moments of +tense silence, and then something seemed to snap. The opposition, led +by the hockey men and their supporters, burst into a demonstration +of welcome. The violence of the demonstration was not solely upon +Maitland's account. The leaders of the opposition were quick to realise +that his entrance had created a diversion for them which might save +them from disastrous defeat. They made the most of this opportunity, +prolonging the demonstration and joining in a “chair procession” which +carried Maitland shoulder-high about the room, in the teeth of the +violent protest of Brother Simmons and his following. + +Order being restored, business was again resumed, when Brother Macnamara +rose to his feet and, in a speech incoherent at times, but always +forceful, proposed that the usual order be suspended and that here and +now a motion be carried expressing their gratification at the recent +great hockey victory and referring in highly laudatory terms to the +splendid work of Brother Captain Maitland, to whose splendid efforts +victory was largely due. + +It was in vain that Brother Simmons and those of his way of thinking +sought to stem the tide of disorder. The motion was carried with +acclaim. + +No sooner had this matter been disposed of than Maitland rose to his +feet and said: + +“Mr. President, I wish to thank you all for this very kind reference to +my team and myself. I take very little credit for the victory which we +won. We had a good team, indeed, quite a remarkable team. I have played +in a good many athletic teams of various kinds, but in two particulars +the Maitland Mills Hockey Team is the most remarkable of any I have +known--first, in their splendid loyalty in taking their training and +sticking together; that was beyond all praise; and, secondly, in the +splendid grit which they showed in playing a losing game. Now, Mr. +President, I am going to do something which gives me more regret than +any of you can understand. I have to offer my resignation as a member of +this union. I have accepted the position of manager of the planing mill +and I understand that this makes it necessary that I resign as a member +of this union. I don't really see why this should be necessary. I don't +believe myself that it should, and, brothers, I expect to live long +enough to belong to a union that will allow a fellow like me to be a +member with chaps like you. But meantime, for the present I must resign. +You have treated me like a brother and a chum. I have learned a lot +from you all, but one thing especially, which I shall never forget: +that there is no real difference in men that is due to their position in +life; that a man's job doesn't change his heart.” + +He paused for a few moments as if to gather command of his voice, which +had become suddenly husky. + +“I am sorry to leave you, boys, and I want to say to you from my heart +that though I cannot remain a member of this union, I can be and I will +be a brother to you all the same. And I promise you that, as far as I +can, I will work for the good of the union in the future as I have done +in the past.” + +McNish alone was prepared for this dramatic announcement, although they +all knew that Maitland sooner or later would assume a position +which would link him up with the management of the business. But the +suddenness of the change and the dramatic setting of the announcement +created an impression so profound as to neutralise completely the effect +of McNish's masterly speech. + +Disappointed and enraged at the sudden turn of events, he was too good +a general to allow himself to be routed in disorder. He set about to +gather his disordered forces for a fresh attack, when once more the +hockey men took command of the field. This time it was Snoopy Sykes, the +most voiceless member of the union. + +After a few moments of dazed silence that followed Maitland's +announcement of his resignation, Snoopy rose and, encouraged by the +cheers of his astonished comrades, began the maiden speech of his life. + +“Mr. President,” he shouted. + +“Go to it, Snoopy, old boy.” + +“I never made a speech in my life, never--” + +“Good, old scout, never begin younger! Cheerio, old son!” + +“And I want to say that he don't need to. I once heard of a feller who +didn't. He kept on and he didn't do no harm to nobody. And the Captain +here wouldn't neither. So what I say is he don't need to,” and Snoopy +sat down with the whole brotherhood gazing at him in silence and amazed +perplexity, not one of them being able to attach the faintest meaning to +Snoopy's amazing oration. + +At length Fatty Findlay, another of the voiceless ones, but the very +special pal of Snoopy Sykes, broke forth in a puzzled voice: + +“Say it again, Snoopy.” + +There was a roar of laughter, which only grew in volume as Snoopy turned +toward his brothers a wrathful and bewildered countenance. + +“No,” said another voice. “Say something else, Snoopy. Shoot a goal this +time.” + +Again Snoopy rose. “What I said was this,” he began indignantly. Again +there was a roar of laughter. + +“Say, you fellers, shut up and give a feller a chance. The Captain wants +to resign. I say 'No.' He is a darned good scout. We want him and we +won't let him go. Let him keep his card.” + +“By the powers,” roared Macnamara, “it is a goal, Snoopy. It's a +humdinger. I second the motion.” + +It was utterly in vain that Brother Simmons and his whole following +pointed out unitedly and successively the utter impossibility and +absurdity of the proposal which was unconstitutional and without +precedent. The hockey team had the company with them and with the bit in +their teeth swept all before them. + +At this point, McNish displayed the master-hand that comes from long +experience. He saw his opportunity and seized it. + +“Mr. President,” he said, and at once he received the most complete +attention. “A confess this is a most extraordinary proposal, but A'm +goin' tae support it.” The roar that answered told him that he +had regained control of the meeting. “Brother Simmons says it is +unconstitutional and without precedent. He is no correct in this. A +have known baith maisters and managers who retained their union cards. +A grant ye it is unusual, but may I point oot that the circumstances are +unusual?”--Wild yells of approval--“And Captain Maitland is an unusual +man”--louder yells of approval--“It may that there is something in the +constitution o' this union that stands in the way--Cries of “No! No!” + and consignment of the constitution to a nameless locality.--“A venture +to suggest that a committee be appointed, consisting of Brothers Sykes, +Macnamara and the chairman, wi' poors tae add, tae go into this maitter +with Captain Maitland and report.” + +It was a master-stroke. A true union man regards with veneration the +constitution and hesitates to tamper with it except in a perfectly +constitutional manner. The opposition to the administration's original +resolution had gained what they sought, a temporary stay. The committee +was appointed and the danger to both the resolution and the constitution +for the present averted. + +Again Mr. McNish took command. “And noo, Mr. President,” he said, “the +oor is late. We are all tired and we all wish to give mair thocht to the +main maitter before us. A move, therefore, that we adjourn to the call +o' the Executive.” + +Once more Brother Simmons found himself in a protesting minority, and +the meeting broke up, the opposition jubilant over their victory, the +supporters of the administration determined to await a more convenient +time. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +LIGHT THAT IS DARKNESS + + +At the next monthly meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union, the +executive had little difficulty in finally shelving the report of its +committee appointed to deal with the resignation of Captain Maitland, +and as little difficulty in passing by unanimous vote their resolution +held up at the last meeting. The allied unions had meantime been +extended to include the building trades. Their organization had been +perfected and their discipline immensely strengthened. Many causes +contributed to this result. A month's time had elapsed and the high +emotional tides due to athletic enthusiasm, especially the hockey +victory, had had space to subside. The dead season for all outdoor games +was upon them and the men, losing touch with each other and with their +captain, who was engrossed in studying his new duties, began to spend +their leisure hours in loafing about the streets or lounging in the pool +rooms. + +All over the country the groundswell of unrest was steadily and rapidly +rising. The returned soldiers who had failed to readjust themselves to +the changed conditions of life and to the changes wrought in themselves +by the war, embittered, disillusioned and disappointed, fell an easy +prey to unscrupulous leaders and were being exploited in the interests +of all sorts of fads and foolish movements. Their government bonuses +were long since spent and many of them, through no fault of their own, +found themselves facing a situation full of difficulty, hardship, and +often of humiliation. + +Under the influence of financial inflation and deceived by the abundant +flow of currency in every department of business, industries by the +score started up all over the land. Few could foresee the approach of +dark and stern days. It was in vain that financial leaders began to +sound a note of warning, calling for retrenchment and thrift. And now +the inevitable results were beginning to appear. The great steel and +coal industries began to curtail their operations, while desperately +striving to maintain war prices for their products. Other industries +followed their example. All the time the cost of living continued +to mount. Foodstuffs reached unheard-of prices, which, under the +manipulations of unscrupulous dealers, continued to climb. + +Small wonder that working men with high wages and plenty of money in +their hands cherished exaggerated ideas of their wealth and developed +extravagant tastes in dress, amusements and in standard of living. With +the rest of the world, they failed to recognise the fact that money +was a mere counter in wealth and not wealth itself. To a large extent, +thrift was abandoned and while deposits in the savings banks grew in +volume, the depositors failed to recognise the fact that the value of +the dollar had decreased fifty per cent. Already the reaction from all +this had begun to set in. Nervousness paralysed the great financial +institutions. The fiat went forth “No more money for industrial +enterprises. No more advances on wholesale stocks.” The order was issued +“Retrench. Take your losses, unload your stocks.” This men were slow to +do, and while all agreed upon the soundness of the policy, each waited +for the other to begin. + +Through the month of April anxiety, fear and discontent began to haunt +the minds of business men. In the labour world the High Command was +quick to sense the approach of a crisis and began to make preparations +for the coming storm. The whole industrial and commercial world +gradually crystallised into its two opposing classes. A subsidised press +began earnestly to demand lower cost in productions retrenchment in +expenditure, a cut in labour costs, a general and united effort to meet +the inevitable burden of deflation. + +On the other hand, an inspired press began to raise an outcry against +the increasing cost of living, to point out the effect of the house +famine upon the income of the working man, and to sound a warning as to +the danger and folly of any sudden reduction in the wage scale. + +Increased activity in the ranks of organised labour began to be +apparent. Everywhere the wild and radical element was gaining in +influence and in numbers, and the spirit of faction and internecine +strife became rampant. + +It was due to the dominating forcefulness of McNish, the leader of +the moderates, that the two factions in the allied unions had been +consolidated, and a single policy agreed upon. His whole past had been +a preparation for just a crisis as the present. His wide reading, his +shrewd practical judgment, his large experience in labour movements in +the Old Land, gave him a position of commanding influence which enabled +him to dominate the executives and direct their activities. His sudden +and unexplained acceptance of the more radical program won for him an +enthusiastic following of the element which had hitherto recognised the +leadership of Brother Simmons. Day and night, with a zeal that never +tired, he laboured at the work of organising and disciplining the +various factions and parties in the ranks of labour into a single +compact body of fighting men under a single command. McNish was in the +grip of one of the mightiest of human passions. Since that day in the +Perrotte home, when he had seen the girl that he loved practically offer +herself, as he thought, to another man, he had resolutely kept himself +away from her. He had done with her forever and he had torn out of his +heart the genuine friendship which he had begun to hold toward the man +who had deprived him of her love. But deep in his heart he nourished a +passion for vengeance that became an obsession, a madness with him. He +merely waited the opportunity to gratify his passion. + +He learned that the Maitland Mills were in deep water, financially. His +keen economic instinct and his deep study of economic movements told +him that a serious financial crisis, continent-wide, was inevitable and +imminent. It only needed a successful labour war to give the final touch +that would bring the whole industrial fabric tumbling into ruin. The +desire for immediate revenge upon the man toward whom he had come to +cherish an implacable hatred would not suffer him to await the onset of +a nation-wide industrial crisis. He fancied that he saw the opportunity +for striking an immediate blow here in Blackwater. + +He steadily thwarted Maitland's attempts to get into touch with him, +whether at the works or in his own home, where Maitland had become +a frequent visitor. He was able only partially to allay his mother's +anxiety and her suspicion that all was not well with him. That shrewd +old lady knew her son well enough to suspect that some untoward +circumstance had befallen him, but she knew also that she could do no +more than bide her time. + +With the workers of the Maitland Mills circumstances favoured the plans +of McNish and the Executive of the allied unions. The new manager was +beginning to make his hand felt upon the wheel. Checks upon wastage in +labour time and in machine time were being instituted; everywhere there +was a tightening up of loose screws and a knitting up of loose ends, +with the inevitable consequent irritation. This was especially true in +the case of Tony Perrotte, to whom discipline was ever an external force +and never an inward compulsion. Inexact in everything he did, irregular +in his habits, irresponsible in his undertakings, he met at every turn +the pressure of the firm, resolute hand of the new manager. Deep down +in his heart there was an abiding admiration and affection for Jack +Maitland, but he loathed discipline and kicked against it. + +The first of May is ever a day of uncertainty and unrest in the world +of labour. It is a time for readjustment, for the fixing of wage scales, +for the assertion of labour rights and the ventilating of labour wrongs. +It is a time favourable to upheaval, and is therefore awaited by all +employers of labour with considerable anxiety. + +On the surface there was not a ripple to indicate that as far as the +Maitland Mills were concerned there was beneath a surging tide of +unrest. So undisturbed indeed was the surface that the inexperienced +young manager was inclined to make light of the anxieties of his father, +and was confident in his assurance that the danger of a labour crisis +had, for the present at least, been averted. + +Out of the blue heaven fell the bolt. The mails on May Day morning +brought to the desk of every manager of every industry in Blackwater, +and to every building contractor, a formal document setting forth in +terms courteous but firm the demands of the executives of the allied +unions of Blackwater. + +“Well, it has come, boy,” was Maitland's greeting to his son, who came +into the office for the usual morning consultation. + +“What?” said Jack. + +“War,” replied his father, tossing him the letter and watching his face +as he read it. + +Jack handed him the letter without a word. + +“Well, what do you think of it?” said his father. + +“It might be worse.” + +“Worse?” roared his father. “Worse? How can it be worse?” + +“Well, it is really a demand for an increase in wages. The others, I +believe, are mere frills. And between ourselves, sir, though I haven't +gone into it very carefully, I am not sure but that an increase in wages +is about due.” + +Maitland glowered at his son in a hurt and hopeless rage. + +“An increase in wages due?” he said. “After the increase of six months +ago? The thing is preposterous. The ungrateful scoundrels!” + +At this point the telephone upon his desk rang. Jack took up the +receiver. + +“Good morning, Mr. McGinnis. . . . Yes, he is here. Yes. . . . At least, +I suppose so. . . . Oh, I don't know. . . . It is rather peremptory. +. . . All right, sir, I shall tell him.” + +“Let me talk to him,” said his father, impatiently. + +“Never mind just now, Dad,” said Jack, with his hand over the receiver. +Then through the telephone he said: “All right, sir; he will await you +here. Good morning.” + +“. . . The old boy is wild,” said Jack with a slight laugh. “The wires +are quite hot.” + +“This is no joke, Jack, I can tell you. McGinnis is coming over, is he?” + +“Yes,” replied Jack, “but we won't get much help from him.” + +“Why not?” inquired his father. “He is a very shrewd and able business +man.” + +“He may be all that, sir, but in a case like this, if you really want my +opinion, and I have no wish to be disrespectful, he is a hot-headed ass. +Just the kind of employer to rejoice the heart of a clever labour leader +who is out for trouble. Dad,” and Jack's voice became very earnest, +“let's work this out by ourselves. We can handle our own men better +without the help of McGinnis or any other.” + +“That is just the trouble. Look at this precious document, 'The Allied +Unions.' What have I got to do with them? And signed by Simmons and +McDonough. Who is McDonough, pray?” + +“McDonough? Oh, I know McDonough. He is a little like +McGinnis--big-hearted, hot-headed, good in a scrap, useless in a +conference. But I suggest, sir, that we ignore the slight unpleasant +technicalities in the manner and method of negotiation and try to deal +with our own people in a reasonable way.” + +“I am ready always to meet my own people, but I refuse utterly to deal +with this committee!” It was not often that Mr. Maitland became profane, +but in his description of this particular group of individuals his +ordinary English suffered a complete collapse. + +“Dad, McGinnis will be here in a few minutes. I should like to suggest +one or two things, if you will allow me.” + +“Go on,” said his father quickly. + +“Dad, this is war, and I have learned a little about that game 'over +there.' And I have learned something about it in my athletic activities. +The first essential is to decline to play the enemy's game. Let's +discover his plan of campaign. As I read this document, the thing that +hits my eye is this: do they really want the things they ask for, or +is the whole thing a blind? What I mean is, do they really want war or +peace? I say let's feel them out. If they are after peace, the thing +is easy. If they want war, this may come to be a very serious thing. +Meantime, Dad, let's not commit ourselves to McGinnis. Let's play it +alone.” + +Mr. Maitland's lips had set in a thin, hard line. His face was like a +mask of grey steel. He sat thinking silently. + +“Here he comes,” said Jack, looking out of the window. “Dad, you asked +me to come into this with you. Let's play the game together. I found it +wise to place the weight on the defence line. Will you play defence in +this?” + +The lines in his father's face began to relax. + +“All right, boy, we'll play it together, and meantime I shall play +defence.” + +“By Jove, Dad,” cried Jack, in a tone of exultant confidence, “we'll +beat 'em. And now here comes that old Irish fire-eater. I'll go. No +alliance, Dad, remember.” His father nodded as Jack left the room, to +return almost immediately with Mr. McGinnis, evidently quite incoherent +with rage. + +In the outer office Jack paused beside the desk of the old bookkeeper. +From behind the closed door came the sound of high explosives. + +“Rough stuff in there, eh, Wickes,” said Jack, with a humorous smile. +For some moments he stood listening. “War is a terrible thing,” he added +with a grin. + +“What seems to be the matter, Mr. Jack?” + +Jack laid before him the document sent out by the Allied Unions. + +“Oh, this is terrible, Mr. Jack! And just at this time. I am very much +afraid it will ruin us.” + +“Ruin us? Rot. Don't ever say that word again. We will possibly have +a jolly good row. Someone will be hurt and perhaps all of us, more or +less, but I don't mean to be beaten, if I know myself,” he added, with +the smile on his face that his hockey team loved to see before a match. +“Now, Wickes,” continued Jack, “get that idea of failure out of +your mind. We are going to win. And meantime, let us prepare for our +campaign. Here's a bit of work I want you to do for me. Get four things +for me: the wages for the last three years--you have the sheets?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“--The cost of living from the Labour Gazette for the last three +years--you have them here--and the rates of increase in wages. Plot a +diagram showing all these things. You know what I mean?” + +“Yes, sir, I understand.” + +“And find out the wages paid at our competing points.” + +“All right, Mr. Jack. I know what you want. I can give you the necessary +information in regard to the first three points almost at once. It will +take some days, however, to get the wages of our competing points.” + +“All right, old boy. Carry on!” said Jack, and with the same smile on +his face he passed out of the office into the shops. + +It amused him slightly to observe the change in the attitude and bearing +of his men. They would not look at him fairly in the face. Even Snoopy +Sykes and Macnamara avoided his glance. But he had for everyone his +usual cheery word. Why should he not? These chaps had no hatred for him, +nor he for them. He had come to understand union methods of discipline +and recognised fully the demands for loyalty and obedience imposed upon +its members by the organisation. These men of his were bound to the +union by solemn obligations. He bore them no ill-will on that score. +Rather he respected them the more for it. If a fight was inevitable, he +would do his best to beat them but he would allow no spirit of hatred to +change his mind toward them nor cloud his judgment. + +The day was full of excursions and alarms. A hurry call was sent out by +McGinnis to all employers who had received copies of the document from +the Allied Unions. In the afternoon a meeting was held in the Board +of Trade Building, but it was given over chiefly to vituperation and +threatening directed toward their variously described employees. With +one heart and voice all affirmed with solemn, and in many cases with +profane oaths that they would not yield a jot to the insolent demands of +this newly organised body. + +“I have already sent my answer,” shouted Mr. McGinnis. + +“What did you say, Mac?” + +“Told 'em to go to hell, and told 'em that if any of these highly +coloured committee men came on my premises, I would kick 'em into the +middle of next week.” + +Jack, who was present at the meeting, sat listening with silent and +amused pity. They seemed to him so like a group of angry children whose +game had suddenly been interfered with and whose rage rendered them +incapable of coherent thought. + +Grant Maitland, who, throughout the meeting had sat silent, finally rose +and said: “Gentlemen, the mere expression of feeling may afford a +sort of satisfaction but the question is, What is to be done? That the +situation is grave for all of us we know too well. Not many of us are in +a position to be indifferent to a strike. Let us get down to business. +What shall we do?” + +“Fight them to a finish! Smash the unions!” were the suggestions in +various forms and with various descriptive adjectives. + +“It may come to a fight, gentlemen, but however gratifying a fight may +be to our feelings, a fight may be disastrous to our business. A strike +may last for weeks, perhaps months. Are we in a position to stand that? +And as for smashing the unions, let us once and for all put such +a thought out of our minds. These unions have all international +affiliations. It is absurd to imagine that we here in Blackwater could +smash a single union.” + +Fiercely McGinnis made reply. “I want to tell you right here and now +that I am prepared to close down and go out of business but I will have +no outside committee tell me how to run my job.” + +But no one took this threat seriously, and no one but knew that a +shut-down for any of them might mean disaster. They all recalled those +unfilled orders which they were straining every nerve to complete before +the market should break, or cancellation should come. It added not a +little to their rage that they knew themselves to be held in the grip of +circumstances over which they had little control. + +After much angry deliberation it was finally agreed that they should +appoint a committee to consider the whole situation and to prepare a +plan of action. Meantime the committee were instructed to temporise with +the enemy. + +The evening papers announced the imminence of a strike the extent +and magnitude of which had never been experienced in the history +of Blackwater. Everywhere the citizens of the industrial town were +discussing the disturbing news anxiously, angrily, indifferently, +according as they were variously affected. But there was a general +agreement among all classes of citizens that a strike in the present +industrial and financial situation which was already serious enough, +would be nothing short of a calamity, because no matter what the issue +would be, no matter which of the parties won in the conflict, a fight +meant serious loss not only to the two parties immediately concerned, +but to the whole community as well. With the rank and file of the +working people there was little heart for a fight. More especially, men +upon whom lay the responsibility for the support of homes shrank from +the pain and the suffering, as well as from the loss which experience +taught them a strike must entail. It is safe to say that in every +working man's home in Blackwater that night there was to be found a +woman who, as she put her children to bed, prayed that trouble might +be averted, for she knew that in every war it is upon the women and +children that in the last analysis the sorest burden must fall. To +them even victory would mean for many months a loss of luxuries for the +family, it might be of comforts; and defeat, which would come not until +after long conflict, would mean not only straitened means but actual +poverty, with all the attendant humiliation and bitterness which would +kill for them the joy of life and sensibly add to its already heavy +burden. + +That night Jack Maitland felt that a chat with the Reverend Murdo +Matheson might help to clear his own mind as to the demands of the +Allied Unions. He found the minister in his study and in great distress +of soul. + +“I am glad to see you, Maitland,” he said, giving him a hearty greeting. +“My hope is largely placed in you and you must not fail me in this +crisis. What exactly are the demands of the unions?” + +Maitland spread before him the letter which his father had received that +morning. The Reverend Murdo read it carefully over, then, with a sigh +of relief, he said: “Well, it might be worse. There should not be much +difficulty in coming to an agreement between people anxious for peace.” + +After an hour spent in canvassing the subject from various points of +view, the Reverend Murdo exclaimed: “Let us go and see McNish.” + +“The very thing,” said Maitland. “I have been trying to get in touch +with him for the last month or so, but he avoids me.” + +“Ay,” replied the Reverend Murdo, “he has a reason, no doubt.” + +To Maitland's joy they found McNish at home. They were received with +none-too-cordial a welcome by the son, with kindly, even eager greeting +by the mother. + +“Come awa in, Minister; come awa, Mr. Maitland. You have come to talk +about the 'trouble,' a doot. Malcolm does-na want to talk about it to +me, a bad sign. He declines to converse even, wi' me, Mr. Matheson. +Perhaps ye may succeed better wi' him.” + +“Mr. Matheson can see for himself,” said her son, using his most correct +English, “the impropriety of my talking with an employer in this way.” + +“Nonsense, McNish,” said the minister briskly. “You know me quite well +and we both know Maitland. It is just sheer nonsense to say that you +cannot talk with us. Everyone in town is talking. Every man in your +union is talking, trying to justify their present position, which, I am +bound to say, takes some justifying.” + +“Why?” asked McNish hotly. + +“Because the demands are some of them quite unsound. Some other than you +had a hand in drawing up your Petition of Right, McNish, and some of the +demands are impossible.” + +“How do you--” began McNish indignantly, but the minister held up his +hand and continued: + +“And some of them are both sound and reasonable.” + +“What's wrang with the demands?” said McNish. + +“That's what I am about to show you,” said the minister with grave +confidence. + +“Aye, minister,” said the mother with a chuckle of delight. “That's you! +That's you! Haud at him! Haud at him! That's you!” + +They took seats about the blazing fire for the evening was still shrewd +enough to make the fire welcome. + +“Noo, Mr. Matheson,” said the old lady, leaning toward him with keen +relish in her face, “read me the union demands. Malcolm wadna read nor +talk nor anything but glower.” + +The Reverend Murdo read the six clauses. + +“Um! They're no bad negotiating pints.” + +“Negotiatin' pints!” exclaimed her son indignantly. “Noo, mither, ye +maun play the game. A'm no gaun tae argue with ye to-night. Nor wi' any +of ye,” he added. + +“Nonsense, Malcolm. You can't object to talk over these points with us. +You must talk them over before you're done with them. And you'll talk +them over before the whole town, too.” + +“What do you mean, 'before the whole town'?” said Malcolm. + +“This is a community question. This community is interested and greatly +interested. It will demand a full exposition of the attitude of the +unions.” + +“The community!” snorted McNish in contempt. + +“Aye, the community,” replied the minister, “and you are not to snort at +it. That's the trouble with you labour folk. You think you are the whole +thing. You forget the third and most important party in any industrial +strife, the community. The community is interested first, in justice +being done to its citizens--to all its citizens, mind you; second, +in the preservation of the services necessary to its comfort and +well-being; third, in the continuance of the means of livelihood to wage +earners.” + +“Ye missed one,” said McNish grimly. “The conserving of the profits of +labour for the benefit of the capitalist.” + +“I might have put that in, too,” said the minister, “but it is included +in my first. But I should have added another which, to my mind, is of +the very first importance, the preservation of the spirit of brotherly +feeling and Christian decency as between man and man in this community.” + +“Aye, ye might,” replied Malcolm in bitter irony, “and ye might begin +with the ministers and the churches.” + +“Whisht, laddie,” said his mother sharply, “Mind yer manners.” + +“He doesn't mean me specially, Mrs. McNish, but I will not say but what +he is right.” + +“No,” replied McNish, “I don't mean you exactly, Mr. Matheson.” + +“Don't take it back, McNish,” said the minister. “I need it. We all need +it in the churches, and we will take it, too. But come now, let us look +at these clauses. You are surely not standing for them all, or for them +all alike?” + +“Why not, then?” said McNish, angrily. + +“I'll tell you,” replied the minister, “and won't take long, either.” He +proceeded to read over carefully the various clauses in the demands +of the allied unions, emphasizing and explaining the meaning of each +clause. “First, as to wages. This is purely a matter for adjustment to +the cost of living and general industrial conditions. It is a matter of +arithmetic and common sense. There is no principle involved.” + +“I don't agree with you,” said McNish. “There is more than the cost +of living to be considered. There is the question of the standard of +living. Why should it be considered right that the standard of living +for the working man should be lower than that for the professional man +or the capitalist?” + +“There you are again, McNish,” said the minister. “You are not up to +your usual to-night. You know quite well that every working man in my +parish lives better than I do, and spends more money on his living. +The standard of living has no special significance with the working man +to-day as distinguished from the professional man. We are not speaking +of the wasteful and idle rich. So I repeat that here it is a matter of +adjustment and that there is no principle involved. Now, as regard to +hours. You ask an eight-hour day and a Saturday half-holiday. That, too, +is a matter of adjustment.” + +“What about production, Mr. Matheson?” said Maitland. “And overhead? +Production costs are abnormally high to-day and so are carrying charges. +I am not saying that a ten-hour day is not too long. Personally, I +believe that a man cannot keep at his best for ten hours in certain +industries--not in all.” + +“Long hours do not mean big production, Maitland. Not long hours but +intensive and co-ordinated work bring up production and lower production +costs.” + +“What about idle machines and overhead?” inquired Maitland. + +“A very important consideration,” said the minister. “The only sound +rule governing factory industry especially is this: the longest possible +machine time, the shortest possible man time. But here again it is +a question of organisation, adjustment and co-ordination of work and +workers. We all want education here.” + +“If I remember right,” said McNish, and he could not keep the bitterness +out of his voice, “I have heard you say something in the pulpit at times +in regard to the value of men's immortal souls. What care can men take +of their bodies and minds, let alone their souls, if you work them ten +hours a day?” + +“There is a previous question, McNish,” said the minister. “Why give +more leisure time to men who spend their leisure hours now in pool rooms +and that sort of nonsense?” + +“And whose fault is that,” replied McNish sharply. “Who is responsible +that they have not learned to use their leisure more wisely? And +further, what about your young bloods and their leisure hours?” + +“Ay, A doot he has ye there, minister,” said Mrs. McNish with a quiet +chuckle. + +“He has,” said the minister. “The point is well taken and I acknowledge +it freely. My position is that the men need more leisure, but, more than +that, they need instruction as to how to use their leisure time wisely. +But let us get on to the third point. 'A Joint Committee of References +demanded to which all complaints shall be referred.' Now, that's fine. +That's the Whitley plan. It is quite sound and has proved thoroughly +useful in practice.” + +“I quite agree,” said Maitland frankly. “But certain conditions must be +observed.” + +“Of course, of course,” replied the minister. “Conditions must be +observed everywhere. Now, the fourth point: 'The foreman must be a +member of the union.' Thoroughly unsound. They can't ride two horses at +once. + +“I am not so sure of that,” said Maitland. “For my part, I should like +to have retained my membership in the union. The more that both parties +meet for conference, the better. And the more connecting links between +them, the better. I should like to see a union where employers and +employees should have equal rights of membership.” + +McNish grunted contemptuously. + +“It would be an interesting experiment,” said the minister. “An +interesting experiment, McNish, and you are not to grunt like that. The +human element, of course, is the crux here. If we had the right sort +of foreman he might be trusted to be a member of the union, but a man +cannot direct and be directed at the same time. But that union of yours, +Maitland, with both parties represented in it, is a big idea. It is +worth considering. What do you think about it, McNish?” + +“What do I think of it? It is sheer idealistic nonsense.” + +“It is a noble idea, laddie, and no to be sneered at, but A doot it +needs a better world for it than we hae at the present.” + +“I am afraid that is true,” said the minister. “But meantime a foreman +is a man who gives orders and directs work, and, generally speaking, he +must remain with a directorate in any business. There may be exceptions. +You must acknowledge that, McNish.” + +“I'll acknowledge nothing of the sort,” replied McNish, and entered into +a long argument which convinced no one. + +“Now we come to the next, number five: 'a voice in the management,' it +means. Come now, McNish, this is rather much. Do you want Mr. Maitland's +job here, or is there anyone in your shop who would be anything but an +embarrassment trying running the Maitland Mills, and you know quite well +that the men want nothing of the sort. It may be as Mrs. McNish said, 'a +good negotiating point,' but it has no place in practical politics here +in Blackwater. How would you like, for instance, to take orders from +Simmons?” + +The old lady chuckled delightedly. “He has you there, laddie, he has you +there!” + +But this McNish would not acknowledge, and proceeded to argue at great +length on purely theoretical grounds for joint control of industries, +till his mother quite lost patience with him. + +“Hoots, laddie, haud yer hoofs on mither earth. Would ye want yon +radical bodies to take chairge o' ony business in which ye had a baubee? +Ye're talkin' havers.” + +“Now, let us look at the last,” said Mr. Matheson. “It is practically a +demand for the closed shop. Now, McNish, I ask you, man to man, what is +the use of putting that in there? It is not even a negotiating point.” + +At that McNish fired up. “It is no negotiating point,” he declared. “I +stand for that. It is vital to the very existence of unionised labour. +Everyone knows that. Unionism cannot maintain itself in existence +without the closed shop. It is the ideal toward which all unionised +labour works.” + +“Now, McNish, tell me honestly,” said the minister, “do you expect or +hope for an absolutely closed shop in the factories here in Blackwater, +or in the Building Industries? Have you the faintest shadow of a hope?” + +“We may not get it,” said McNish, “but that is no reason why we should +not fight for it. Men have died fighting for the impossible because they +knew it was right, and, by dying for it, they have brought it to pass.” + +“Far be it from me, McNish, to deny that. But I am asking you now, again +as man to man, do you know of any industry, even in the Old Land, where +the closed shop absolutely prevails, and do you think that conditions in +Blackwater give you the faintest hope of a closed shop here?” + +“Yes,” shouted McNish, springing to his feet, “there is hope. There is +hope even in Blackwater.” + +“Tut, tut, laddie,” said his mother. “Dinna deeve us. What has come ower +ye that ye canna talk like a reasonable man? Noo, Mr. Matheson, ye've +had enough of the labour matters. A'll mak ye a cup of tea.” + +“Thank you, Mrs. McNish,” said the minister gravely, “but I cannot +linger. I have still work to do to-night.” He rose from his chair and +found his coat. His manner was gravely sad and gave evidence of his +disappointment with the evening's conversation. + +“Dinna fash yerself, minister,” said the old lady, helping him on with +his coat. “The 'trouble' will blow ower, a doot. It'll a' come oot +richt.” + +“Mrs. McNish, what I have seen and heard in this house to-night,” said +the minister solemnly, “gives me little hope that it will all come +right, but rather gives me grave concern.” Then, looking straight into +the eyes of her son, he added: “I came here expecting to find help and +guidance in discovering a reasonable way out of a very grave and serious +difficulty. I confess I have been disappointed.” + +“Mr. Matheson,” said McNish, “I am always glad to discuss any matter +with you in a reasonable and kindly way.” + +“I am afraid my presence has not helped very much, Mrs. McNish,” said +Maitland. “I am sorry I came tonight. I did come earnestly desiring and +hoping that we might find a way out. It seems I have made a mistake.” + +“You came at my request, Maitland,” said the minister. “If a mistake has +been made, it is mine. Good-night, Mrs. McNish. Good-night, Malcolm. +I don't pretend to know or understand what is in your heart, but I am +going to say to you as your minister that where there is evil passion +there can be no clear thinking. And further, let me say that upon you +will devolve a heavy responsibility for the guidance you give these +men. Good-night again. Remember that One whom we both acknowledge as +the source of all true light said: 'If the light that is in thee be +darkness, how great is that darkness.'” He shook hands first with +the mother, then with the son, who turned away from him with a curt +“Good-night” and nodded to Maitland. + +For a moment or two neither of the men spoke. They were both grievously +disappointed in the interview. + +“I never saw him like that,” said the Reverend Murdo at length. “What +can be the matter with him? With him passion is darkening counsel.” + +“Well,” said Maitland, “I have found out one thing that I wanted.” + +“And what is that?” + +“These men clearly do not want what they are asking for. They want +chiefly war--at least, McNish does.” + +“I am deeply disappointed in McNish,” replied the minister, “and I +confess I am anxious. McNish, above all others, is the brains of this +movement, and in that mood there is little hope of reason from him. I +fear it will be a sore fight, with a doubtful issue.” + +“Oh, I don't despair,” said Maitland cheerily. “I have an idea he has a +quarrel with me. He wants to get me. But we can beat him.” + +The Reverend Murdo waited for a further explanation, but was too much +of a gentleman to press the point and kept silent till they reached his +door. + +“You will not desert us, Mr. Matheson,” said Maitland earnestly. + +“Desert you? It is my job. These people are my people. We cannot desert +them.” + +“Right you are,” said Maitland. “Cheerio. We'll carry on. He shook hands +warmly with the minister and went off, whistling cheerily. + +“That is a man to follow,” said the minister to himself. “He goes +whistling into a fight.” + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE STRIKE + + +The negotiations between the men and their employers, in which the chief +exponents of the principles of justice and fair play were Mr. McGinnis +on the one hand and Brother Simmons on the other, broke down at the +second meeting, which ended in a vigorous personal encounter between +these gentlemen, without, however, serious injury to either. + +The following day a general strike was declared. All work ceased in the +factories affected and building operations which had begun in a moderate +way were arrested. Grant Maitland was heartily disgusted with the course +of events and more especially with the humiliating and disgraceful +manner in which the negotiations had been conducted. + +“You were quite right, Jack,” he said to his son the morning after which +the strike had been declared. “That man McGinnis is quite impossible.” + +“It really made little difference, Dad. The negotiations were hopeless +from the beginning. There was no chance of peace.” + +“Why not?” + +“Because McNish wants war.” He proceeded to give an account of the +evening spent at the McNish home. “When McNish wants peace, we can +easily end the strike,” concluded Jack. + +“There is something in what you say, doubtless,” replied his father, +“but meantime there is a lot to be done.” + +“What do you mean exactly, Father?” + +“We have a lot of stock made up on hand. The market is dead at present +prices. There is no hope of sales. The market will fall lower still. I +propose that we take our loss and unload at the best rate we can get.” + +“That is your job, Dad. I know little about that, but I believe you are +right. I have been doing a lot of reading in trade journals and that +sort of thing, and I believe that a big slump is surely coming. But +there is a lot to do in my department at the Mills, also. I am not +satisfied with the inside arrangement of our planing mill. There is +a lot of time wasted and there is an almost complete lack of +co-ordination. Here is a plan I want to show you. The idea is to improve +the routing of our work.” + +Maitland glanced at the plan perfunctorily, more to please his son than +anything else. But, after a second glance, he became deeply interested +and began to ask questions. After half an hour's study he said: + +“Jack, this is really a vast improvement. Strange, I never thought of a +great many of these things.” + +“I have been reading up a bit, and when I was on my trip two weeks ago I +looked in upon two or three of the plants of our competitors. I believe +this will be more up-to-date and will save time and labour.” + +“I am sure it will, boy. And we will put this in hand at once. But what +about men?” + +“Oh, we can pick up labourers, and that is all we want at the present +time.” + +“All right, go at it. I will give you a hand myself.” + +“Then there is something else, Dad. We ought to have a good athletic +field for our men.” + +His father gasped at him. + +“An athletic field for those ungrateful rascals?” + +“Father, they are not rascals,” said his son. “They are just the same +to-day as they ever were. A decent lot of chaps who don't think the same +as we do on a number of points. But they are coming back again some time +and we may as well be ready for them. Look at this.” + +And before Grant Maitland could recover his speech he found himself +looking at a beautifully-drawn plan of athletic grounds set out with +walks, shade trees and shrubbery, and with a plain but commodious +club-house appearing in the background. + +“And where do you get this land, and what does it cost you?” + +“The land,” replied Jack, “is your land about the old mill. It will cost +us nothing, I hope. The old mill site contains two and one-half acres. +It can be put in shape with little work. The mill itself is an eyesore; +ought to have been removed long ago. Dad, you ought to have seen the +plant at Violetta, that is in Ohio, you know. It is a joy to behold. But +never mind about that. The lumber in the old mill can be used up in +the club-house. The timbers are wonderful; nothing like them to-day +anywhere. The outside finishing will be done with slabs from our own +yard. They will make a very pretty job.” + +“And where do you get the men for this work?” inquired his father. + +“Why, our men. It is for themselves and they are our men.” + +“Voluntary work, I suppose?” inquired Maitland. + +“Voluntary work?” said Jack. “We couldn't have men work for us for +nothing.” + +“And you mean to pay them for the construction of their own athletic +grounds and club-house?” + +“But why not?” inquired Jack in amazement. + +His father threw back his head and began to laugh. + +“This is really the most extraordinary thing I have ever heard of in all +my life,” he said, after he had done with his laugh. “Your men strike; +you prepare for them a beautiful club-house and athletic grounds as a +reward for their loyalty. You pay them wages so that they may be able +to sustain the strike indefinitely.” Again he threw back his head and +continued laughing as Jack had never in his life heard him laugh. + +“Why not, Dad?” said Jack, gazing at his father in half-shamed +perplexity. “The idea of athletic grounds and club-house is according +to the best modern thought. These are our own men. You are not like +McGinnis. You are not enraged at them. You don't hate them. They are +going to work for us again in some days or weeks. They are idle and +therefore available for work. You can get better work from them than +from other men. And you wouldn't take their work from them for nothing.” + +Again his father began to laugh. “Your argument, Jack,” he said when he +was able to control his speech, “is absolutely unanswerable. There is +no answer possible on any count; but did ever man hear of such a scheme? +Did you?” + +“I confess not. But, Dad, you are a good sport. We are out to win this +fight, but we don't want to injure anybody. We are going to beat them, +but we don't want to abuse them unnecessarily. Besides, I think it is +good business. And then, you see, I really like these chaps.” + +“Simmons, for instance?” said his father with an ironical smile. + +“Well, Simmons, just as much as you can like an ass.” + +“And McNish?” inquired Maitland. + +“McNish,” echoed Jack, a cloud falling upon his face. “I confess I don't +understand McNish. At least,” he added, “I am sorry for McNish. But what +do you say to my scheme, Dad?” + +“Well, boy,” said his father, beginning to laugh again, “give me a night +to think it over.” + +Then Jack departed, not quite sure of himself or of the plan which +appeared to give his father such intense amusement. “At any rate,” he +said to himself as he walked out of the office, “if it is a joke it is +a good one. And it has given the governor a better laugh than he has had +for five years.” + +The Mayor of Blackwater was peculiarly sensitive to public opinion and +acutely susceptible of public approval. In addition, he was possessed +of a somewhat exalted idea of his powers as the administrator in public +affairs, and more particularly as a mediator in times of strife. He had +been singularly happy in his mediation between the conflicting elements +in his Council, and more than once he had been successful in the +composing of disputes in arbitration cases submitted to his judgment. +Moreover, he had an eye to a second term in the mayor's chair, which +gubernatorial and majestical office gave full scope to the ruling +ambition of his life, which was, in his own words, “to guard the +interests and promote the well-being of my people.” + +The industrial strike appeared to furnish him with an opportunity to +gratify this ambition. He resolved to put an end to this unnecessary and +wasteful struggle, and to that end he summoned to a public meeting his +fellow citizens of all classes, at which he invited each party in the +industrial strife to make a statement of their case, in the hope that a +fair and reasonable settlement might be effected. + +The employers were more than dubious of the issue, having but a small +idea of the mayor's power of control and less of his common-sense. +Brother Simmons, however, foreseeing a magnificent field for the display +of his forensic ability, a thing greatly desired by labour leaders +of his kidney, joyfully welcomed the proposal. McNish gave hesitating +assent, but, relying upon his experience in the management of public +assemblies and confident of his ability to shape events to his own +advantage, he finally agreed to accept the invitation. + +The public meeting packed the City Hall, with representatives of both +parties in the controversy in about equal numbers and with a great body +of citizens more or less keenly interested in the issue of the meeting +and expectant of a certain amount of “fun.” The Mayor's opening speech +was thoroughly characteristic. He was impressed with the responsibility +that was his for the well-being of his people. Like all right-thinking +citizens of this fair town of Blackwater, he deeply regretted this +industrial strife. It interfered with business. It meant loss of +money to the strikers. It was an occasion of much inconvenience to the +citizens and it engendered bitterness of feeling that might take months, +even years, to remove. He stood there as the friend of the working man. +He was a working man himself and was proud of it. He believed that on +the whole they were good fellows. He was a friend also of the employers +of labour. What could we do without them? How could our great industries +prosper without their money and their brains? The one thing necessary +for success was co-operation. That was the great word in modern +democracy. In glowing periods he illustrated this point from their +experiences in the war. All they wanted to do was to sit down together, +and, man to man, talk their difficulties over. He would be glad to +assist them, and he had no doubt as to the result. He warned the working +man that hard times were coming. The spectre of unemployment was already +parading their streets. Unemployment meant disorder, rioting. This, +he assured them, would not be permitted. At all costs order would be +maintained. He had no wish to threaten, but he promised them that the +peace would be preserved at all costs. He suggested that the strikers +should get back at once to work and the negotiations should proceed in +the meantime. + +At this point Brother Simmons rose. + +“The mayor (h)urges the workers to get back to work,” he said. “Does 'e +mean at (h)increased pay, or not? 'E says as 'ow this strike interferes +with business. 'E doesn't tell us what business. But I can tell 'im +it (h)interferes with the business of robbery of the workin' man. 'E +deplores the loss of money to the strikers. Let me tell 'im that the +workin' men are prepared to suffer that loss. True, they 'ave no big +bank accounts to carry 'em on, but there are things that they love more +than money--liberty and justice and the rights of the people. What are +we strikin' for? Nothin' but what is our own. The workin' man makes +(h)everything that is made. What percentage of the returns does 'e get +in wages? They won't tell us that. Last year these factories were busy +in the makin' o' munitions. Mr. McGinnis 'ere was makin' shells. I'd +like to (h)ask, Mr. Mayor, what profit Mr. McGinnis made out of these +shells.” + +Mr. McGinnis sprang to his feet, “I want to tell you,” he said in +a voice choking with rage, “that it is none of your high-explosive +business.” + +“'E says as it is none o' my business,” cried Brother Simmons, joyously +taking Mr. McGinnis on. “Let me (h)ask 'im who paid for these shells? I +did, you did, all of us did. Not my business? Then 'ose business is +it? (H)If 'e was paid a fair price for 'is shells, (h)all right, I say +nothin' against it. If 'e was paid more than a fair price, then 'e is +a robber, worse, 'e is a blood robber, because the price was paid in +blood.” + +At once a dozen men were on their feet. Cries of “Order! Order!” and +“Put him out!” arose on every hand. The mayor rose from his chair +and, in an impressive voice, said: “We must have order. Sit down, +Mr. Simmons.” Simmons sat down promptly. Union men are thoroughly +disciplined in points of order. “We must have order,” continued the +mayor. “I will not permit any citizen to be insulted. We all did our +bit in this town of Blackwater. Some of us went to fight, and some +that could not go to fight 'kept the home fires burning'.” A shout of +derisive laughter from the working men greeted this phrase. The mayor +was deeply hurt. “I want to say that those who could not go to the war +did their bit at home. Let the meeting proceed, but let us observe the +courtesies that are proper in debate.” + +Again Simmons took the floor. “As I was sayin', Mr. Mayor--” + +Cries of “Order! Order! Sit down!” + +“--Mr. Mayor, I believe I 'ave the floor?” + +“Yes, you have. Go on. But you must not insult.” + +“(H)Insult? Did I (h)insult anybody? I don't know what Mr. McGinnis made +from 'is shells. I only said that if--you (h)understand--if 'e made more +than e ought to, 'e is a robber. And since the price of our freedom was +paid in blood, if 'e made more than was fair, 'e's a blood robber.” + +Again the cries arose. “Throw him out!” Once more the mayor rose. “You +must not make insinuations, sir,” he cried angrily. “You must not make +insinuations against respectable citizens.” + +“(H)Insinooations,” cried Simmons. “No, sir, I never make no +(h)insinooations. If I knew that (h)any man 'ere 'ad made (h)unfair +profits I wouldn't make no (h)insinooations. I would charge 'im right +'ere with blood robbery. And let me say,” shouted Simmons, taking a step +into the aisle, “that the time may come when the working men of this +country will make these charges, and will (h)ask the people who kept the +''ome fires burning'--” + +Yells of derisive laughter. + +“--what profits came to them from these same 'ome fires. The people +will (h)ask for an (h)explanation of these bank accounts, of these new +factories, of these big stores, of these (h)autermobiles. The people +that went to the war and were (h)unfortoonate enough to return came back +to poverty, while many of these 'ere 'ome fire burners came (h)out with +fortunes.” At this point brother Simmons cast a fierce and baleful eye +upon a group of the employers who sat silent and wrathful before him. +“And now, what I say,” continued Brother Simmons-- + +At this point a quiet voice was heard. + +“Mr. Mayor, I rise to a point of order.” + +Immediately Simmons took his seat. + +“Mr. Farrington,” said the mayor, recognising one of the largest +building contractors in the town. + +“Mr. Mayor, I should like to ask what are we discussing this afternoon? +Are we discussing the war records of the citizens of Blackwater? If so, +that is not what I came for. It may be interesting to find out what each +man did in the war. I find that those who did most say least. I don't +know what Mr. Simmons did in the war. I suppose he was there.” + +With one spring Simmons was on his feet and in the aisle. He ripped +off coat and vest, pulled his shirt over his head and revealed a back +covered with the network of ghastly scars. “The gentleman (h)asks,” he +panted, “what I done in the war. I don't know. I cannot say what I +done in the war, but that is what the war done to me.” The effect was +positively overwhelming. + +A deadly silence gripped the audience for a single moment. Then upon +every hand rose fierce yells, oaths and strange cries. Above the uproar +came Farrington's booming voice. Leaving his seat, which was near the +back of the hall, he came forward, crying out: + +“Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! I demand attention!” As he reached Simmons's +side, he paused and, facing about, he looked upon the array of faces +pale and tense with passion. “I want to apologise to this gentleman,” + he said in a voice breaking with emotion. “I should not have said what +I did. The man who bears these scars is a man I am proud to know.” He +turned swiftly toward Simmons with outstretched hand. “I am proud to +know you, sir. I could not go to the war. I was past age. I sent my two +boys. They are over there still.” As the two men shook hands, for +once in his life Simmons was speechless. His face was suffused with +uncontrollable feeling. On every side were seen men, strong men, with +tears streaming down their faces. A nobler spirit seemed to fall upon +them all. In the silence that followed, Mr. Maitland rose. + +“Mr. Mayor,” he said quietly, “we have all suffered together in this +war. I, for one, want to do the fair thing by our men. Let us meet them +and talk things over before any fair-minded committee. Surely we who +have suffered together in war can work together in peace.” It was a +noble appeal, and met with a noble response. On all sides and from all +parties a storm of cheers broke forth. + +Then the Reverend Murdo Matheson rose to his feet. “Mr. Mayor,” he said, +“I confess I was not hopeful of the result of this meeting. But I am +sure we all recognise the presence and influence of a mightier Spirit +than ours. From the outset I have been convinced that the problems in +the industrial situation here are not beyond solution, and should yield +to fair and reasonable consideration. I venture to move that a committee +of five be appointed, two to be chosen by each of the parties in this +dispute, who would in turn choose a chairman; that this committee meet +with representatives of both parties; and that their decision in all +cases be final.” + +Mr. Farrington rose and heartily seconded the motion. + +At this point Jack, who was sitting near the platform and whose eyes +were wandering over the audience, was startled by the look on the face +of McNish. It was a look in which mingled fear, anxiety, wrath. He +seemed to be on the point of starting to his feet when McGinnis broke +in: + +“Do I understand that the decision of this committee is to be final on +every point?” + +“Certainly,” said the Reverend Murdo. “There is no other way by which we +can arrive at a decision.” + +“Do you mean,” cried McGinnis, “that if this committee says I must hire +only union men in my foundry that I must do so?” + +“I would reply,” said the Reverend Murdo, “that we must trust this +committee to act in a fair and reasonable way.” + +But Mr. McGinnis was not satisfied with this answer. + +“I want to know,” he cried in growing anger, “I want to know exactly +where we are and I want a definite answer. Will this committee have the +right to force me to employ only union men?” + +“Mr. Mayor,” replied the Reverend Murdo, “Mr. McGinnis is right in +asking for definiteness. My answer is that we must trust this committee +to do what is wise and reasonable, and we must accept their decision as +final in every case.” + +Thereupon McGinnis rose and expressed an earnest desire for a tragic and +unhappy and age-long fate if he would consent to any such proposition. +With terrible swiftness the spirit of the meeting was changed. The +moment of lofty emotion and noble impulse passed. The opportunity for +reason and fair play to determine the issue was lost, and the old evil +spirit of suspicion and hate fell upon the audience like a pall. + +At this point McNish, from whose face all anxiety had disappeared, rose +and said: + +“For my part, and speaking for the working men of this town, I am ready +to accept the proposal that has been made. We have no fear for the +justice of our demands like some men here present. We know we have the +right on our side and we are willing to accept the judgment of such a +committee as has been proposed.” The words were fair enough, but +the tone of sneering contempt was so irritating that immediately the +position assumed by McGinnis received support from his fellow employers +on every hand. Once more uproar ensued. The mayor, in a state of angry +excitement, sought in vain to restore order. + +After some minutes of heated altercation with Mr. McGinnis, whom he +threatened with expulsion from the meeting, the mayor finally left +the chair and the meeting broke up in disorder which threatened to +degenerate into a series of personal encounters. + +Again McNish took command. Leaping upon a chair, with a loud voice which +caught at once the ears of his following, he announced that a meeting +was to be held immediately in the union rooms, and he added: “When these +men here want us again, they know where to find us.” He was answered +with a roar of approval, and with an ugly smile on his face he led his +people in triumph from the hall, leaving behind the mayor, still engaged +in a heated argument with McGinnis and certain employers who sympathised +with the Irishman's opinions. Thus the strike passed into another and +more dangerous phase. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +GATHERING CLOUDS + + +On the Rectory lawn a hard-fought game had just finished, bringing to +a conclusion a lengthened series of contests which had extended over a +whole week, in which series Patricia, with her devoted cavalier, Victor +Forsythe, had been forced to accept defeat at the hands of her sister +and her partner, Hugh Maynard. + +“Partner, you were wonderful in that last set!” said Patricia, as they +moved off together to offer their congratulations to their conquerors. + +“Patsy,” said her partner, in a low voice, “as ever, you are superb in +defeat as in victory. Superb, unapproachable, wonderful.” + +“Anything else, Vic?” inquired Patsy, grinning at the youth. + +“Oh, a whole lot more, Pat, if you only give me a chance to tell you.” + +“No time just now,” cried Patricia as she reached the others. “Well, you +two deserved to win. You played ripping tennis,” she continued, offering +Hugh her hand. + +“So did you, Pat. You were at the very top of your form.” + +“Well, some other day,” said Vic. “I think we are improving a bit, +partner. A little more close harmony will do the trick.” + +“Come away, children,” said Mrs. Templeton, calling to them from the +shade at the side of the courts. “You must be very tired and done out. +Why, how hot you look, Patricia.” + +“Stunning, I should say!” murmured Vic, looking at her with adoring +eyes. + +And a truly wonderful picture the girl made, in her dainty muslin +frock, her bold red hair tossed in a splendid aureole about her face. +Care-free, heart-free, as she flashed from her hearty blue eyes her +saucy and bewitching glances at her partner's face, her mother sighed, +thinking that her baby girl was swiftly slipping away from her and +forever into that wider world of womanhood where others would claim her. + +In lovely contrast stood her sister, dressed in flannel skirt and +sweater of old gold silk, fair, tall, beautiful, a delicate grace in +every line of her body and a proud, yet gentle strength in every +feature of her face. There dwelt in her deep blue eyes a look of hidden, +mysterious power which had wrought in her mother a certain fear of her +eldest daughter. The mother never quite knew what to expect from Adrien. +Yet, for all, she carried an assured confidence that whatever she might +do, her daughter never would shame the high traditions of her race. + +The long shadows from the tall elms lay across the velvet sward of the +Rectory lawn. The heat of the early June day had given place to the cool +air of the evening. The exquisitely delicate colouring from the setting +sun flooded the sky overhead and deepened into blues and purples behind +the elms and the church spire. A deep peace had fallen upon the world +except that from the topmost bough of the tallest elm tree a robin sang, +pouring his very heart out in a song of joyous optimism. + +The little group, disposed upon the lawn according to their various +desires, stood and sat looking up at the brave little songster. + +“How happy he is,” said Mrs. Templeton, a wistful cadence of sadness in +her voice. + +“I wonder if he is, Mamma. Perhaps he is only pretending,” said Adrien. + +“Cheerio, old chap!” cried Vic, waving his hand at the gallant little +songster. “You are a regular grouch killer.” + +“He has no troubles,” said Mrs. Templeton, with a sigh. + +“I wonder, Mamma. Or is he just bluffing us all?” + +“He has no strike, at any rate, to worry him,” said Patricia, “and, +by the way, what is the news to-day? Does anybody know? Is there any +change?” + +“Oh,” cried Vic, “there has been a most exciting morning at the E. D. +C.--the Employers' Defence Committee,” he explained, in answer to Mrs. +Templeton's mystified look. + +“Do go on!” cried Patricia impatiently. “Was there a fight? They are +always having one.” + +“Of course there was the usual morning scrap, but with a variation +to-day of a deputation from the brethren of the Ministerial Association. +But, of course, Mrs. Templeton, the Doctor must have told you already.” + +“I hardly ever see him these days. He is dreadfully occupied. There is +so much trouble, sickness and that sort of thing. Oh, it is all terribly +sad. The Doctor is almost worn out.” + +“He made a wonderful speech to the magnates, my governor says.” + +“Oh, go on, Vic!” cried Patricia. “Why do you stop? You are so +deliberate.” + +“I was thinking of that speech,” replied Victor more quietly than was +his wont. “It came at a most dramatic moment. The governor was quite +worked up over it and gave me a full account. They had just got all +their reports in--'all safe along the Potomac'--no break in the front +line--Building Industries slightly shaky due to working men's groups +taking on small contracts, which excited great wrath and which McGinnis +declared must be stopped.” + +“How can they stop them? This is a free country,” said Adrien. + +“Aha!” cried Victor. “Little you know of the resources of the E. D. C. +It is proposed that the supply dealers should refuse supplies to all +builders until the strike is settled. No more lumber, lime, cement, +etc., etc.” + +“Boycott, eh? I call that pretty rotten,” said Adrien. + +“The majority were pretty much for it, however, except Maitland and my +governor, they protesting that this boycott was hardly playing the game. +Your friend Captain Jack came in for his licks,” continued Vic, turning +to Patricia. “It appears he has been employing strikers in some work +or other, which some of the brethren considered to be not according to +Hoyle.” + +“Nonsense!” cried Patricia indignantly. “Jack took me yesterday to see +the work. He showed me all the plans and we went over the grounds. It is +a most splendid thing, Mamma! He is laying out athletic grounds for his +men, with a club house and all that sort of thing. They are going to be +perfectly splendid! Do you mean to say they were blaming him for this? +Who was?” And Patricia stood ready for battle. + +“Kamerad!” cried Vic, holding up his hands. “Not me! However, Jack was +exonerated, for it appears he sent them a letter two weeks ago, +telling them what he proposed to do, to which letter they had raised no +objection.” + +“Well, what then?” inquired Patricia. + +“Oh, the usual thing. They all resolved to stand pat--no surrender--or, +rather, let the whole line advance--you know the stuff--when into +this warlike atmosphere walked the deputation from the Ministerial +Association. It gave the E. D. C. a slight shock, so my Dad says. The +Doctor fired the first gun. My governor says that it was like a breath +from another world. His face was enough. Everybody felt mean for just +being what they were. I know exactly what that is, for I know the way he +makes me feel when I look at him in church. You know what I mean, Pat.” + +“I know,” said Patricia softly, letting her hand fall upon her mother's +shoulder. + +“Well,” continued Vic, “the Doctor just talked to them as if they were +his children. They hadn't been very good and he was sorry for them. +He would like to help them to be better. The other side, too, had been +doing wrong, and they were having a bad time. They were suffering, and +as he went on to tell them in that wonderful voice of his about the +women and children, every man in the room, so the governor said, was +wondering how much he had in his pocket. And then he told them of how +wicked it was for men whose sons had died together in France to be +fighting each other here in Canada. Well, you know my governor. As he +told me this tale, we just both of us bowed our heads and wept. It's the +truth, so help me, just as you are doing now, Pat.” + +“I am not,” cried Patricia indignantly. “And I don't care if I am. He is +a dear and those men are just--” + +“Hush, dear,” said Mrs. Templeton gently. “And did they agree to +anything?” + +“Alas, not they, for at that moment some old Johnny began asking +questions and then that old fire-eater, McGinnis, horned in again. No +Arbitration Committee for him--no one could come into his foundry and +tell him how to run his business--same old stuff, you know. Well, then, +the Methodist Johnny took a hand. What's his name? Haynes, isn't it?” + +“Yes, Haynes,” said Hugh Maynard. + +“Well, Brother Haynes took up the tale. He is an eloquent chap, all +right. He took the line 'As you are strong, be pitiful,' but the +psychological moment had gone and the line still held strong. Campbell +of the woollen mills invited him up to view his $25,000.00 stock 'all +dressed up and nowhere to go.' 'Tell me how I can pay increased wages +with this stock on my hands.' And echo answered 'How?' Haynes could not. +Then my old chief took a hand--the Reverend Murdo Matheson. He is a good +old scout, a Padre, you know--regular fire-eater--a rasping voice and +grey matter oozing from his pores. My governor says he abandoned the +frontal attack and took them on the flank. Opened up with a dose of +economics that made them sit up. And when he got through on this line, +he made every man feel that it was entirely due to the courtesy and +forbearance of the union that he was allowed to carry on business at +all. He spiked Brother McGinnis's guns by informing him that if he +was harbouring the idea that he owned a foundry all on his own, he was +labouring under a hallucination. All he owned was a heap of brick and +mortar and some iron and steel junk arranged in some peculiar way. In +fact, there was no foundry there till the workmen came in and started +the wheels going round. Old McGinnis sat gasping like a chicken with +the pip. Then the Padre turned on the 'Liberty of the subject' stop as +follows: 'Mr. McGinnis insists upon liberty to run his foundry as he +likes; insists upon perfect freedom of action. There is no such thing +as perfect freedom of action in modern civilisation. For instance, Mr. +McGinnis rushing to catch a train, hurls his Hudson Six gaily down Main +Street thirty miles an hour, on the left-hand side of the street. A +speed cop sidles up, whispers a sweet something in his ear, hails him +ignominiously into court and invites him to contribute to the support +of the democracy fifty little iron men as an evidence of his devotion +to the sacred principle of personal liberty. In short, there is no such +thing as personal liberty in this burg, unless it is too late for the +cop to see.' The governor says McGinnis's face afforded a perfect study +in emotions. I should have liked to have seen it. The Padre never took +his foot off the accelerator. He took them all for an excursion +along the 'Responsibility' line: personal responsibility, mutual +responsibility, community responsibility and every responsibility known +to the modern mind. And then when he had them eating out of his hand, +he offered them two alternatives: an Arbitration Committee as formerly +proposed, or a Conciliation Board under the Lemieux Act. My governor +says it was a great speech. He had 'em all jumping through the hoops.” + +“What DO you mean, Vic?” lamented Mrs. Templeton. “I have only the very +vaguest idea of what you have been saying all this time.” + +“So sorry, Mrs. Templeton. What I mean is the Padre delivered a most +effective speech.” + +“And did they settle anything?” inquired Patricia. + +“I regret to say, Patricia, that your friend Rupert--” + +“My friend, indeed!” cried Patricia. + +“Who comforts you with bonbons,” continued Vic, ignoring her words, +“and stays you with joy rides, interposed at this second psychological +crisis. He very cleverly moves a vote of thanks, bows out the +deputation, thanking them for their touching addresses, and promising +consideration. Thereupon, as the door closed, he proceeded to sound +the alarm once more, collected the scattered forces, flung the gage +of battle in the teeth of the enemy, dared them to do their worst, and +there you are.” + +“And nothing done?” cried Adrien. “What a shame.” + +“What I cannot understand is,” said Hugh, “why the unions do not invoke +the Lemieux Act?” + +“Aha!” said Vic. “Why? The same question rose to my lips.” + +“The Lemieux Act?” inquired Mrs. Templeton. + +“Yes. You know, Mrs. Templeton, either party in dispute can ask for a +Board of Conciliation, not Arbitration, you understand. This Board has +power to investigate--bring out all the facts--and failing to effect +conciliation, makes public its decision in the case, leaving both +parties at the bar of public opinion.” + +“But I cannot understand why the unions do not ask for this Conciliation +Board.” + +“I fear, Hugh,” said Victor in an awed and solemn voice, “that there is +an Ethiopian in the coal bin.” + +“What DOES he mean, Patricia?” + +“He means that there is something very dark and mysterious, Mamma.” + +“So there is,” said Hugh. “The unions will take an Arbitration +Committee, which the employers decline to give, but they will not ask +for a Conciliation Board.” + +“My governor says it's a bluff,” said Vic. “The unions know quite +well that McGinnis et hoc genus omne will have nothing to do with an +Arbitration Committee. Hence they are all for an Arbitration Committee. +On the other hand, neither the unions nor McGinnis are greatly in love +with the prying methods of the Conciliation Board, and hence reject the +aid of the Lemieux Act.” + +“But why should they all be dominated by a man like McGinnis?” demanded +Adrien. “Why doesn't some employer demand a Conciliation Board? He can +get it, you know.” + +“They naturally stand together,” said Hugh. + +“But they won't long. Maitland declares that he will take either board, +and that if the committee cannot agree which to choose, he will withdraw +and make terms on his own. He furthermore gave them warning that if any +strike-breakers were employed, of which he had heard rumours, he would +have nothing to do with the bunch.” + +“Strike-breakers?” said Adrien. “That would certainly mean serious +trouble.” + +“Indeed, you are jolly well right,” said Vic. “We will all be in it +then. Civic guard! Special police! 'Shun! Fix bayonets! Prepare for +cavalry! Eh?” + +“Oh, how terrible it all is,” said Mrs. Templeton. + +“Nonsense, Vic,” said Hugh. “Don't listen to him, Mrs. Templeton. We +will have nothing of that sort.” + +“Well, it is all very sad,” said Mrs. Templeton. “But here is Rupert. He +will give us the latest.” + +But Rupert appeared unwilling to talk about the meeting of the morning. +He was quite certain, however, that the strike was about to break. He +had inside information that the resources of the unions were almost +exhausted. The employers were tightening up all along the line, credits +were being refused at the stores, the unions were torn with dissension, +the end was at hand. + +“It would be a great mercy if it would end soon,” said Mrs. Templeton. +“It is a sad pity that these poor people are so misguided.” + +“It is a cruel shame, Mrs. Templeton,” said Rupert indignantly. “I have +it from scores of them that they didn't want to strike at all. They were +getting good wages--the wage scale has gone up steadily during the war +to the present extravagant height.” + +“The cost of living has gone up much more rapidly, I believe,” said +Adrien. “The men are working ten hours a day, the conditions under which +they labour are in some cases deplorable; that McGinnis foundry is a +ghastly place, terribly unhealthy; the girls in many of the factories +are paid wages so shamefully low that they can hardly maintain +themselves in decency, and they are continually being told that they are +about to be dismissed. The wrong's not all on one side, by any means. To +my mind, men like McGinnis who are unwilling to negotiate are a menace +to the country.” + +“You are quite right, Adrien,” replied Hugh. “I consider him a most +dangerous man. That sort of pig-headed, bull-headed employer of labour +does more to promote strife than a dozen 'walking delegates.' I am not +terribly strong for the unions, but the point of vantage is always with +the employers. And they have a lot to learn. Oh, you may look at me, +Adrien! I am no bolshevist, but I see a lot of these men in our office.” + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE STORM + + +Slowly the evening was deepening into night, but still the glow from the +setting sun lingered in the western sky. The brave little songster had +gone from the top of the elm tree, but from the shrubbery behind the +church a whippoorwill was beginning to tune his pipe. + +“Oh, listen to the darling!” cried Patricia. “I haven't heard one for a +long, long time.” + +“There used to be a great many in the shrubbery here, and in the old +days the woods nearby were full of them in the evenings,” said Mrs. +Templeton. + +As they sat listening for the whippoorwill's voice, they became aware of +other sounds floating up to their ears from the town. The hum of passing +motors, the high, shrill laughter of children playing in the streets, +the clang of the locomotive bell from the railroad station, all softened +by distance. But as they listened there came another sound like nothing +they had ever heard in that place before. A strange, confused rumbling, +with cries jutting out through the dull, rolling noise. A little later +came the faint clash of rhythmic, tumultuous cheering. Patricia's quick +ears were the first to catch the sound. + +“Hush!” she cried. “What is that noise?” + +Again came the rumbling sound, punctuated with quick volleys of +cheering. The men glanced at each other. They knew well that sound, a +sound they had often heard during the stirring days of the war, in the +streets of the great cities across the seas, and in other places, too, +where men were wont to crowd. As they listened in tense silence, there +came the throbbing of a drum. + +“My dear,” said Mrs. Templeton faintly to her eldest daughter, “I think +I shall go in.” + +At once Hugh offered her his arm, while Adrien took the other, and +together they led her slowly into the house. + +Meanwhile the others tumbled into Rupert's car and motored down to the +gate, and there waited the approach of what seemed to be a procession of +some sort or other. + +At the gate Dr. Templeton, returning from his pastor visitations, found +them standing. + +“Come here, Papa!” cried Patricia. “Let us wait here. There is something +coming up the street.” + +“But what is it?” asked Dr. Templeton. “Does anybody know?” + +“I guess it is a strikers' parade, sir. I heard that they were to +organise a march-out to-night. It is rather a ridiculous thing.” + +Through the deepening twilight they could see at the head of the column +and immediately before the band, a double platoon of young girls dressed +in white, under the command of an officer distinguished from the others +by her red sash, all marching with a beautiful precision to the tap +of the drum. As the head of the column drew opposite, Patricia touched +Vic's arm. + +“Vic!” she cried. “Look! Look at that girl! It is Annette!” + +“My aunt! So it is!” cried Vic. “Jove! What a picture she makes! What a +swing!” + +Behind that swinging company of girls came the band, marching to the +tapping of the drum only. Then after a space came a figure, pathetic, +arresting, moving--a woman, obviously a workman's wife, of middle age, +grey, workworn, and carrying a babe of a few months in her arms, marched +alone. Plainly dressed, her grey head bare, she walked proudly erect +but with evident signs of weariness. The appearance of that lone, weary, +grey-haired woman and her helpless babe struck hard upon the heart with +its poignant appeal, choking men's throats and bringing hot tears to +women's eyes. Following that lonely figure came one who was apparently +the officer in command of the column. As he came opposite the gate, +his eye fell upon the group there. Swiftly he turned about, and, like a +trumpet, his voice rang out in command: + +“Ba-t-t-a-a-lion, halt!! R-r-r-i-g-h-t turn!” + +Immediately the whole column came to a halt and faced toward the side of +the street where stood the group within the shadow of the gate. + +“I am going to get Annette,” said Patricia to her father, and she darted +off, returning almost immediately with the leader of the girls' squad. + +“What does this mean, Annette? What are you doing? It is a great lark!” + cried Patricia. + +“Well, it is not exactly a lark,” answered Annette, with a slight laugh. +“You see, we girls want to help out the boys. We are strikers, too, you +know. They asked us to take part in the parade, and here we are. But +it's got away past being a lark,” she continued, her voice and face +growing stern. “There is a lot of suffering among the workers. I know +all my money has gone,” she added, after a moment, with a gay laugh. + +Meantime, the officer commanding the column had spoken a few words to +the leader of the band, and in response, to the surprise and dismay of +the venerable Doctor, the band struck up that rollicking air associated +with the time-honoured chorus, “For He's a Jolly Good Fellow.” Then all +stood silent, gazing at the Doctor, who, much embarrassed, could only +gaze back in return. + +“Papa, dear,” said Adrien, who with Hugh Maynard had joined them at the +gate, “you will have to speak to them.” + +“Speak to them, my dear? What in the world could I say? I have nothing +to say to them.” + +“Oh, but you must, Papa! Just thank them.” + +“And tell them you are all for them, Daddy!” added Patricia impulsively. + +Then the old Doctor, buttoning his coat tightly about him and drawing +himself erect, said: + +“Rupert, please run your car out to the road. Thank you.” Mounting +the car, he stood waiting quietly till the cheering had died down into +silence, his beautiful, noble, saintly face lit with the faint glow +that still came from the western sky but more with the inner light that +shines from a soul filled with high faith in God and compassion for man. + +“Gentlemen--” he began. + +“Ladies, too, Papa,” said Patricia in a clear undertone. + +“Ah!” corrected the Doctor. “Ladies and Gentlemen:” while a laugh ran +down the line. “One generally begins a speech with the words 'I am glad +to see you here.' These words I cannot say this evening. I regret more +deeply than you can understand the occasion of your being here at all. +And in this regret I know that you all share. But I am glad that I +can say from my heart that I feel honoured by and deeply moved by +the compliment you have just paid me through your band. I could wish, +indeed, that I was the 'jolly good fellow' you have said, but as I look +at you I confess I am anything but 'jolly.' I have been in too many of +your homes during the last three weeks to be jolly. The simple truth +is, I am deeply saddened and, whatever be the rights or wrongs, and +all fair-minded men will agree that there are rights and wrongs on +both sides, my heart goes out in sympathy to all who are suffering and +anxious and fearful for the future. I will try to do my best to bring +about a better understanding.” + +“We know that, sir,” shouted a voice. “Ye done yer best.” + +“But so far I and those labouring with me have failed. But surely, +surely, wise and reasonable men can find before many days a solution for +these problems. And now let me beg your leaders to be patient a little +longer, to banish angry and suspicious feelings and to be willing to +follow the light. I see that many of you are soldiers. To you my heart +goes out with a love as true as if you were my own sons, for you were +the comrades of my son. Let me appeal to you to preserve unbroken that +fine spirit of comradeship that made the Canadian Army what it was. And +let me assure you all that, however our weak and erring human hearts may +fail and come short, the great heart of the Eternal Father is unchanging +in Its love and pity for us all. Meantime, believe me, I shall never +cease to labour and pray that very soon peace may come to us again.” + Then, lifting his hands over them while the men uncovered, he said a +brief prayer, closing with the apostolic blessing. + +Startled at the burst of cheering which followed shortly after the +conclusion of the prayer, the babe broke into loud crying. Vainly the +weary mother sought to quiet her child, she herself well-nigh exhausted +with her march, being hardly able to stand erect. Swiftly Adrien sprang +from the car and ran out to her. + +“Let me carry the babe,” she cried, taking the child in her arms. “Come +into the car with me.” + +“No,” said the woman fiercely. “I will go through with it.” But even as +she spoke she swayed upon her feet. + +With gentle insistence, however, Adrien caught her arm and forced her +toward the car. + +“I will not leave them,” said the woman stubbornly. + +“Speak to her, Annette,” said Adrien. “She cannot walk.” + +“Mrs. Egan,” said Annette, coming to her, “it will be quite all right +to go in the car. It will be all the better. Think of the fine parade it +will make.” + +But, still protesting, the old woman hung back, crying, “Let me go! I +will go through!” + +“Sure thing!” cried Patricia. “We will take you along. Where's Rupert?” + +But Rupert, furious and disgusted, hung back in the shadow. + +“Here, Vic!” cried Patricia. “You take the wheel!” + +“Delighted, I am sure!” cried Vic, climbing into the seat. “Get in here, +Patsy. All set, Colonel,” he added, saluting to the officer in command +of the parade, and again the column broke into cheering as they moved +off to the tap of the drum, Rupert's elegant Hudson Six taking a place +immediately following the band. + +“All my life I have longed for the spotlight,” murmured Vic to his +companion, a delighted grin on his face. “But one can have too much of +a good thing. And, with Wellington, I am praying that night may come +before I reach the haunts of my comrades in arms.” + +“Why, Vic, do you care?” cried Patricia. “Not I! And I think it was just +splendid of Adrien!” + +“Oh, topping! But did you see the gentle Rupert's face? Oh, it was +simply priceless! Fancy this sacred car leading a strikers' parade.” And +Vic's body shook with delighted chuckles. + +“Don't laugh, Vic!” said Patricia, laying her hand upon his arm. “The +lady behind will see you.” + +“Steady it is,” said Vic. “But I feel as if I were the elephant in the +circus. I say, can we execute a flank movement, or must we go through to +the bitter end?” + +“Adrien,” said Patricia, “do you think this night air is good for the +baby?” + +“We shall go on a bit yet,” said Adrien. “Mrs. Egan is very tired and I +am sure will want to go home presently.” + +But Mrs. Egan was beginning to recover her strength and, indeed, to +enjoy the new distinction of riding in a car, and in this high company. + +“No,” she said, “I must go through.” She had the look and tone of a +martyr. “They chose me, you see, and I must go through!” + +“Oh, very well,” said Adrien cheerfully. “We shall just go along, Vic.” + +Through the main streets of the town the parade marched and +countermarched till, in a sudden, they found themselves in front of the +McGinnis foundry. Before the gate in the high board fence which enclosed +the property, a small crowd had gathered, which greeted the marching +column with uproarious cheers. From the company at the gate a man rushed +forward and spoke eagerly to the officer in command. + +“By Jove, there's Tony!” said Vic. “And that chap McDonough. What does +this mean?” + +After a brief conversation with Tony, who apparently was passionately +pressing his opinion, the officer shook his head and marched steadily +forward. Suddenly Tony, climbing upon the fence, threw up his hand and, +pointing toward the foundry, shouted forth the single word, “Scabs!” + Instantly the column halted. Again Tony, in a yell, uttered the same +word, “Scabs!” From hundreds of throats there was an answering roar, +savage, bloodthirsty as from a pack of wild beasts. Tony waved his hand +for silence. + +“Scabs!” he cried again. “McGinnis strike-breakers! They came to-night. +They are in there!” He swung his arm around and pointed to the foundry. +“Shall we give them a welcome? What do you say, boys?” Again and more +fiercely than before, more terribly cruel, came the answering roar. + +“Here, this is no place for you!” cried Vic. “Let's get out.” At his +touch the machine leaped forward, clear of the crowd. + +“Annette!” cried Adrien, her hand on Vic's shoulder. “Go and get her!” + +Halting the car, Vic leaped from the wheel, ran to where the girls' +squad was halted and caught Annette by the arm. + +“Annette,” he said, “get your girls away from here quick! Come with us!” + +But Annette laughed scornfully at him. + +“Go with you? Not I! But,” she added in a breathless undertone, “for +God's sake, get your ladies and the baby away. These people won't know +who you are. Move quick!” + +“Come with us, Annette!” implored Vic. “If you come, the rest will +follow.” + +“Go! Go!” cried Annette, pushing him. Already the crowd were tearing the +fence to pieces with their hands, and rocks were beginning to fly. + +Failing to move the girl, Vic sprang to the wheel again. + +“I will get you away from this, anyway,” he said. + +“But Annette!” cried Patricia. “We can't leave her!” + +But Vic made no reply, and at his touch the machine leaped forward, +and none too soon, for already men were crowding about the car on every +side. + +“We are well out of that!” said Vic coolly. “And now I will take you all +home. Hello! They're messing up McGinnis's things a bit,” he added, as +the sound of crashing glass came to their ears. + +Through the quiet streets the car flew like a hunted thing, and in a +very few minutes they were at the Rectory door. + +“No fuss, now, Patricia,” said Adrien, “we must not alarm Mamma. All +steady.” + +“Right you are! Steady it is!” said Patricia springing from the car. +Quietly but swiftly they got the woman and the child indoors. + +“Hugh! Rupert!” said Adrien, speaking in a quiet voice. “Vic needs you +out there. That is a wild car of yours, Rupert,” she added with a laugh. +“It fairly flies.” Gathering in her hands the men's hats and sticks, she +hurried them out of the door. + +“Cheerio!” cried Vic. “A lovely war is going on down at the McGinnis +plant. Get in and let us plan a campaign. First, to Police Headquarters, +I suppose.” As they flew through the streets Vic gave them in a few +words a picture of the scenes he had just witnessed. + +They found the Chief of Police in his office. At their first word he was +on the move. + +“I was afraid of this thing when that fool parade started,” he said. +“Sergeant, send out the general alarm!” + +“How many men have you, Chief?” inquired Hugh. + +“About twenty-five, all told. But they are all over the town. How many +men are down there?” + +“There are five hundred, at least; possibly a thousand, raging like wild +bulls of Bashan.” + +As he spoke, another car came tearing up and Jack Maitland sprang from +the wheel. + +“Are you in need of help, Chief?” he asked quietly. + +“All the good men we can get,” said the Chief curtly. “But first we must +get the Mayor here. Sergeant, get him on the phone.” + +“You go for him, Vic,” said Jack. + +“Righto!” cried Vic. “But count me in on this.” + +In fifteen minutes Vic was back with the Mayor, helpless with nervous +excitement. + +“Get your men out, Chief!” he shouted, as he sprang from the car. “Get +them out quick, arrest those devils and lock 'em up! We'll show them a +thing or two! Hurry up! What are you waiting for?” + +“Mr. Mayor,” Jack's clear, firm, cool voice arrested the Mayor's +attention. “May I suggest that you swear in some special constables? The +Chief will need help and some of us here would be glad to assist.” + +“Yes! Yes! For God's sake, hurry up! Here's the clerk. How do you swear +them in, clerk?” + +“The Chief of Police has all the necessary authority.” + +“All right, Chief. Swear them! Swear them! For heaven's sake, swear +them! Here, you, Maitland--and you, Maynard--and Stillwell--” + +With cool, swift efficiency born of his experience in the war, the Chief +went on with his arrangements. In his hands the process of swearing in +a number of special constables was speedily accomplished. Meantime many +cars and a considerable number of men had gathered about the Police +Headquarters. + +“What is that light?” cried the Mayor suddenly, pointing in the +direction of the foundry. “It's a fire! My God, Chief, do you see that +fire? Hurry up! Why don't you hurry up? They will burn the town down.” + +“All right, Mr. Mayor,” said the Chief. “We shall be there in a few +minutes now. Captain Maitland,” said the Chief, “I will take the men I +have with me. Will you swear in all you can get within the next fifteen +or twenty minutes, and report to me at the foundry? Sergeant, you come +along with me! I'm off!” So saying, the Chief commandeered as many cars +as were necessary, packed them with the members of his police force +available and with the specials he had secured, and hurried away. + +After the Chief had retired, Jack stood up in his car. “Any of you chaps +want to get into this?” he said, addressing the crowd. His voice was +cheery and cool. At once a dozen voices responded. “Righto!” “Here +you are!” “Put me down!” In less than fifteen minutes, he had secured +between forty and fifty men. + +“I want all these cars,” he said. “Get in, men. Hold on!” he shouted at +a driver who had thrown in his clutch. “Let no man move without orders! +Any man disobeying orders will be arrested at once! Remember that no +guns are to be used, no matter what provocation may be given. Even if +you are fired on, don't fire in return! Does any man know where we can +get anything in the shape of clubs?” + +“Hundreds of axe handles in our store,” said Rupert. + +“Right you are! Drivers, fall in line. Keep close up. Now, Mr. Mayor, if +you please.” + +Armed with axe handles from Stillwell & Son's store, they set off for +the scene of action. Arrived at the foundry they found the maddest, +wildest confusion raging along the street in front of the foundry, and +in the foundry yard which was crowded with men. The board fence along +the front of the grounds had been torn down and used as fagots to fire +the foundry, which was blazing merrily in a dozen places. Everywhere +about the blazing building parties of men like hounds on the trail +were hunting down strike-breakers and, on finding them, were brutally +battering them into insensibility. + +Driving his car through the crowd, Maitland found his way to the +Chief. In a few short, sharp sentences, the Chief explained his plan of +operations. “Clear the street in front, and hold it so! Then come and +assist me in clearing this yard.” + +“All right, sir!” replied Maitland, touching his hat as to a superior +officer, and, wheeling his car, he led his men back to the thronging +street. + +Meantime, the Fire Department had arrived upon the scene with a couple +of engines, a hose reel and other fire-fighting apparatus, the firemen +greatly hampered in their operations. + +Swinging his car back through the crowd, Maitland made his way to the +street, and set to work to clear the space immediately in front of the +foundry. Parking his cars at one end of the street, and forming his men +up in a single line, he began slowly to press back the crowd. It +was slow and difficult work, for the crowd, unable to recognise his +ununiformed special constables, resented their attack. + +He called Victor to his side. “Get a man with you,” he said, “and bring +up two cars here.” + +“Come along, Rupert,” cried Victor, seizing Stillwell, and together they +darted back to where the cars stood. Mounting one of the cars, Maitland +shouted in a loud voice: + +“The Chief of Police wants this street cleared. So get back, please! We +don't wish to hurt anyone. Now, get back!” And lining up level with the +cars, the special constables again began to press forward, using their +axe handles as bayonets and seeking to prod their way through. + +High up on a telegraph pole, his foot on one of the climbing spikes, was +a man directing and encouraging the attack. As he drew near, Maitland +discovered this man to be no other than Tony, wildly excited and vastly +enjoying himself. + +“Come down, Tony!” he said. “Hurry up!” + +“Cheerio, Captain!” shouted Tony. “What about Festubert?” + +“Come down, Tony,” said Maitland, “and be quick about it!” + +“Sorry, can't do it, Captain. I am a fixture here.” + +Like a cat, Maitland swarmed up the pole and coming to a level with +Tony, struck him swiftly and unexpectedly a single blow. It caught Tony +on the chin. He swung off from the post, hung a moment, then dropped +quietly to the ground. As he fell, a woman's shriek rang out from the +crowd and tearing her way through the line came Annette, who flung +herself upon her brother. + +“Here you,” said Jack, seizing a couple of men from the crowd, “get this +man in my car. Now, Annette,” he continued, “don't make a fuss. Tony +isn't hurt. We'll send him quietly home. Now then, men, let's have no +nonsense,” he shouted. “I want this street cleared, and quick!” + +As he spoke, a huge man ran out from the crowd and, with an oath, flung +himself at Maitland. But before he came within striking distance, an axe +handle flashed and the man went down like a log. + +“Axe handles!” shouted Maitland. “But steady, men!” + +Over the heads of the advancing line, the axe handles swung, men +dropping before them at every step. At once the crowd began a hasty +retreat, till the pressure upon the back lines made it impossible for +those in front to escape. From over the heads of the crowd rocks began +to fly. A number of his specials were wounded and for a moment the +advance hung fire. Down through the crowd came a fireman, dragging with +him a hose preparatory to getting into action. + +“Hello, there!” called Maitland. The fireman looked up at him. Jack +sprang down to his side. “I want to clear this street,” he said. “You +can do it for me.” + +“Well, I can try,” said the fireman with a grin, and turning his hose +toward the crowd, gave the signal for the water, holding the nozzle at +an angle slightly off the perpendicular. In a very few moments the +crowd in the rear found themselves under a deluge of falling water, and +immediately they took to their heels, followed as rapidly as possible +by those in front. Then, levelling his nozzle, the fireman proceeded +to wash back from either side of the street those who had sought refuge +there, and before many minutes had elapsed, the street was cleared, and +in command of Maitland's specials. + +Leaving the street under guard, Maitland and his specials went to the +help of the Chief, who was hampered more or less by His Worship, the +Mayor, and very considerably by Mr. McGinnis, who had meantime arrived, +mad with rage and demanding blood, and proceeded to clear up the foundry +yard, and rescue the strike-breakers who had taken refuge within the +burning building and in holes and corners about the premises. It was no +light matter, but under the patient, good-natured but resolute direction +of the Chief, they finally completed their job, rounding up the +strike-breakers in a corner of the yard and driving off their assailants +to a safe distance. + +There remained still the most difficult part of their task. The +strike-breakers must be got to the Police Headquarters, the nearest +available place of safety. For, on the street beyond the water line, the +crowd was still waiting in wrathful mood. The foundry was a wreck, +but even this did not satisfy the fury of the strikers, which had been +excited by the presence of the strike-breakers imported by McGinnis. +For the more seriously injured, ambulances were called, and these were +safely got off under police guard to the General Hospital. + +The Chief entered into consultation with the Mayor: + +“The only safe place within reach,” he said, “is Police Headquarters. +And the shortest and best route is up the hill to the left. But +unfortunately, that is where the big crowd is gathered. There are not so +many if we take the route to the right, but that is a longer way round.” + +“Put the men in your cars, Chief,” said McGinnis, “and smash your way +through. They can't stop you.” + +“Yes, and kill a dozen or so,” said the Chief. + +“Why not? Aren't they breaking the law?” + +“Oh, well, Mr. McGinnis,” said the Chief, “it is easy to kill men. The +trouble is they are no use to anybody after they are dead. No, we must +have no killing to-night. To-morrow we'd be sorry for it.” + +“Let us drive up and see them,” suggested the Mayor. “Let me talk to the +boys. The boys know me.” + +The Chief did not appear to be greatly in love with the suggestion of +the Mayor. + +“Well,” he said, “it would do no harm to drive up and have a look at +them. We'll see how they are fixed, anyway. I think, Mr. McGinnis, you +had better remain on guard here. The Mayor and Captain Maitland will +come with me.” + +Commandeering Rupert and his car, the Chief took his party at a moderate +pace up the street, at the top of which the crowd stood waiting in +compact masses. Into these masses Rupert recklessly drove his car. + +“Steady there, Stillwell,” warned the Chief. “You'll hurt someone.” + +“Hurt them?” said Rupert. “What do you want?” + +“Certainly not to hurt anyone,” replied the Chief quietly. “The function +of my police force is the protection of citizens. Halt there!” + +The Chief stepped out among the strikers and stood in the glare of the +headlights. + +“Well, boys,” he said pleasantly, “don't you think it is time to get +home? I think you have done enough damage to-night already. I am going +to give you a chance to get away. We don't want to hurt anyone and we +don't want to have any of you down for five years or so.” + +Then the Mayor spoke up. “Men, this is a most disgraceful thing. Most +deplorable. Think of the stain upon the good name of our fair city.” + +Howls of derision drowned his further speech for a time. + +“Now, boys,” he continued, “can't we end this thing right here? Why +can't you disperse quietly and go to your homes? What do you want here, +anyway?” + +“Scabs!” yelled a voice, followed by a savage yell from the crowd. + +“Men,” said the Chief sharply, “you know me. I want this street cleared. +I shall return here in five minutes and anyone seeking to stop me will +do so at his own risk. I have a hundred men down there and this time +they won't give you the soft end of the club.” + +“We want them sulphurously described scabs,” yelled a voice. “We ain't +goin' to kill them, Chief. They're lousy. We want to give 'em a bath.” + And a savage yell of laughter greeted the remark. On every hand the +word was taken up: “A bath! A bath! The river! The river!” The savage +laughter of the crowd was even more horrible than their rage. + +“All right, boys. We are coming back and we are going through. Leave +this street clear or take your chances! It's up to you!” So saying, the +car was turned about and the party proceeded back to the foundry. + +“What are you going to do, Chief?” inquired the Mayor anxiously. + +“There are a lot of soldiers in that crowd,” said the Chief. “I don't +like the looks of them. They are too steady. I hate to smash through +them.” + +Arrived at the foundry, the Chief paced up and down, pondering his +problem. He called Maitland to his side. + +“How many cars have we here, Maitland?” he inquired. + +“Some fifteen, I think. And there are five or six more parked down on +the street.” + +“That would be enough,” said the Chief. “I hate the idea of smashing +through that crowd. You see, some of those boys went through hell with +me and I hate to hurt them.” + +“Why not try a ruse?” suggested Maitland. “Divide your party. You take +five or six cars with constables up the hill to that crowd there. Let me +take the strikebreakers and the rest of the cars and make a dash to the +right. It's a longer way round but with the streets clear, we can arrive +at Headquarters in a very few minutes.” + +The Chief considered the plan for a few minutes in silence. + +“It's a good plan, Maitland,” he said at length. “It's a good plan. +And we'll put it through. I'll make the feint on the left; you run +them through on the right. I believe we can pull it off. Give me a few +minutes to engage their attention before you set out.” + +Everything came off according to plan. As the Chief's detachment of +cars approached the solid mass of strikers, they slowly gave back before +them. + +“Clear the way there!” said the Chief. “We are going through!” + +Step by step the crowd gave way, pressed by the approaching cars. +Suddenly, at a word of command, the mass opened ranks and the Chief saw +before him a barrier across the street, constructed of fencing torn from +neighbouring gardens, an upturned delivery wagon, a very ugly and very +savage-looking field harrow commandeered from a neighbouring market +garden, with wicked-looking, protruding teeth and other debris of +varied material, but all helping to produce a most effective barricade. +Silently the Chief stood for a few moments, gazing at the obstruction. +A curious, ominous growl of laughter ran through the mob. Then came a +sharp word of command: + +“Unload!” + +As with one movement his party of constables were on the ground and +lined up in front of their cars, with their clubs and axe handles ready +for service. Still the mob waited in ominous silence. The Chief drew his +gun and said in a loud, clear voice: + +“I am going to clear away this barricade. The first man that offers to +prevent me I shall shoot on the spot.” + +“I wouldn't do that, Chief,” said a voice quietly from the rear. “There +are others, you know. Listen.” + +Three shots rang out in rapid succession, and again silence fell. + +Meantime from the corner of the barricade a man had been peering into +the cars. + +“Boys!” he shouted. “They ain't there! There ain't no scabs.” + +The Chief laughed quietly. + +“Who said there were?” he asked. + +“Sold, by thunder!” said the man. Then he yelled: “We'll get 'em yet. +Come on, boys, to the main street.” + +Like a deer, he doubled down a side street, followed by the crowd, +yelling, cursing, swearing deep oaths. + +“Let 'em go,” said the Chief. “Maitland's got through by this time.” As +he spoke, two shots rang out, followed by the crash of glass, and the +headlights of the first car went black. + +“Just as well you didn't get through, Chief,” said the voice of the +previous speaker. “Might've got hurt, eh?” + +“Give it to him, Chief,” said Rupert savagely. + +“No use,” said the Chief. “Let him go.” + +Meanwhile, Maitland, with little or no opposition, had got his cars +through the crowd, which as a matter of fact were unaware of the +identity of the party until after they had broken through. + +Their way led by a circuitous route through quiet back streets, +approaching Police Headquarters from the rear. A ten-minute run brought +them to a short side street which led past the Maitland Mills, at the +entrance to which they saw under the glare of the arc lights over the +gateway a crowd blocking their way. + +“Now, what in thunder is this? Hold up a minute,” said Maitland to his +driver. “Let me take a look.” He ran forward to the main entrance. +There he found the gateway, which stood a little above the street +level, blocked by a number of his own men, some of whom he recognised +as members of his hockey team, and among them, McNish. Out in the street +among the crowd stood Simmons, standing on a barrel, lashing himself +into a frenzy and demanding blood, fire, revolution, and what not. + +“McNish, you here?” said Maitland sharply. “What is it, peace or war? +Speak quick!” + +“A'm haudden these fules back fra the mill,” answered McNish with a +scowl. Then, dropping into his book English, he continued bitterly: +“They have done enough to-night already. They have wrecked our cause for +us!” + +“You are dead right, McNish,” answered Maitland. “And what do they want +here?” + +“They are some of McGinnis's men and they are mad at the way you handled +them over yonder. They are bound to get in here. They are only waiting +for the rest of the crowd. Yon eejit doesn't know what he is saying. +They are all half-drunk.” + +Maitland's mind worked swiftly. “McNish, listen!” he said. “I am in a +deuce of a fix. I have the scabs in those cars there with me. The crowd +are following me up. What shall I do?” + +“My God, man, you're lost. They'll tear ye tae bits.” + +“McNish, listen. I'll run them into the office by the side gate down the +street. Keep them busy here. Let that fool Simmons spout all he wants. +He'll help to make a row.” + +His eyes fell upon a crouching figure at his feet. + +“Who is this? It's Sam, by all that's holy! Why, Sam, you are the very +chap I want. Listen, boy. Slip around to the side door and open it wide +till I bring in some cars. Then shut and bar it quick.” Carefully he +repeated his instructions. “Can you do it, Sam?” + +“I'm awful scared, Captain,” replied the boy, his teeth chattering, “but +I'll try it.” + +“Good boy,” said Maitland. “Don't fail me, Sam. They might kill me.” + +“All right, Captain. I'll do it!” And Sam disappeared, crawling under +the gate, while Maitland slipped back to his cars and passed the word +among the drivers. “Keep close up and stop for nothing!” + +They had almost made the entry when some man hanging on the rear of the +crowd caught sight of them. + +“Scabs! Scabs!” cried the man, dashing after the cars. But Sam was equal +to his task, and as the last car passed through the gateway he slammed +and bolted the door in their faces. + +Disposing of the strike-breakers in the office, Maitland and his guard +of specials passed outside to the main gate and took their places beside +McNish and his guard. Before them the mob had become a mad, yelling, +frenzied thing, bereft of power of thought, swaying under the fury of +their passion like tree tops blown by storm, reiterating in hoarse and +broken cries the single word “Scabs! Scabs!” + +“Keep them going somehow, McNish,” said Maitland. “The Chief won't be +long now.” + +McNish climbed up upon the fence and, held in place there by two +specials, lifted his hand for silence. But Simmons, who all too +obviously had fallen under the spell of the bootleggers, knew too well +the peril of his cause. Shrill and savage rose his voice: + +“Don't listen to 'im. 'E's a traitor, a blank and double-blank traitor. +'E sold us (h)up, 'e 'as. Don't listen to 'im.” + +Like a maniac he spat out the words from his foam-flecked lips, waving +his arms madly about his head. Relief came from an unexpected source. +Sam Wigglesworth, annoyed at Simmons's persistence and observing that +McNish, to whom as a labour leader he felt himself bound, regarded the +orating and gesticulating Simmons with disfavour, reached down and, +pulling a sizable club from beneath the bottom of a fence, took careful +aim and, with the accuracy of the baseball pitcher that he was, hurled +it at the swaying figure upon the barrel. The club caught Simmons fair +in the mouth, who, being, none too firmly set upon his pedestal, itself +affording a wobbling foothold, landed spatting and swearing in the arms +of his friends below. With the mercurial temper characteristic of a +crowd, they burst into a yell of laughter. + +“Go to it now, McNish!” said Maitland. + +Echoing the laughter, McNish once more held up his hand. “Earth to +earth, ashes to ashes,” he said in his deepest and most solemn tone. The +phenomenal absurdity of a joke from the solemn Scotchman again tickled +the uncertain temperament of the crowd into boisterous laughter. + +“Men, listen tae me!” cried McNish. “Ye mad a bad mistake the nicht. +In fact, ye're a lot of fules. And those who led ye are worse, for they +have lost us the strike, if that is any satisfaction tae ye. And now +ye want to do another fule thing. Ye're mad just because ye didn't know +enough to keep out of the wet.” + +But at this point, a man fighting his way from the rear of the crowd, +once more raised the cry “Scabs!” + +“Keep that fool quiet,” said McNish sharply. + +“Keep quiet yourself, McNish,” replied the man, still pushing his way +toward the front. + +“Heaven help us now,” said Maitland. “It's Tony, and drunk at that!” + +It was indeed Tony, without hat, coat or vest. + +“McNish, we want those scabs,” said Tony, in drunken gravity. + +“There are nae scabs here. Haud ye're drunken tongue,” said McNish +savagely. + +“McNish,” persisted Tony in a grave and perfectly courteous tone, +“you're a liar. The scabs are in that office.” A roar again swept the +crowd. + +“Men, listen to me,” pleaded McNish. “A'll tell ye about the scabs. They +are in the office yonder. But I have Captain Maitland's word o' honour +that they will be shipped out of town by the first train.” + +A savage yell answered him. + +“McNish, we'll do the shipping,” said Tony, moving still nearer the +speaker. + +“Officer,” said Maitland sharply to a uniformed policeman standing by +his side, “arrest that man!” pointing to Tony. + +The policeman drew his baton, took two strides forward, seized Tony by +the back of the neck and drew him in. An angry yell went up from the +mob. Maitland felt a hand upon his arm. Looking down, he saw to his +horror and dismay Annette, her face white and stricken with grief and +terror. + +“Oh, Jack,” she pleaded, “don't let Tony be arrested. He broke away from +us. Let me take him. He will come with me. Oh, let me take him!” + +“Rescue! Rescue!” shouted the crowd, rushing the cordon of police lining +the street. + +“Kill him! Kill the traitor!” yelled Simmons, struggling through and +waving unsteadily the revolver in his hand. “Down with that tyrant, +Maitland! Kill him!” he shrieked. + +He raised his arm, holding his gun with both hands. + +“Look out, Jack,” shrieked Annette, flinging herself on him. + +Simultaneously with the shot, a woman's scream rang out and Annette fell +back into Maitland's arms. A silence deep as death fell upon the mob. + +With a groan McNish dropped from the fence beside the girl. + +Annette opened her eyes and, looking up into Maitland's face, whispered: +“He didn't get you, Jack. I'm so glad.” + +“Oh, Annette, dear girl! He's killed you!” + +“It's--all--right--Jack,” she whispered. “I--saved--you.” + +Meanwhile McNish, with her hand caught in his, was sobbing: “God, have +mercy! She's deed! She's deed!” + +Annette again opened her eyes. “Poor Malcolm,” she whispered. “Dear +Malcolm.” Then, closing her eyes again, quietly as a tired child, she +sank into unconsciousness. The big Scotchman, still kissing her hand, +sobbed: + +“Puir lassie, puir lassie! Ma God! Ma God! What now? What now?” + +“She is dead. The girl is dead.” The word passed from lip to lip among +the crowd, which still held motionless and silent. + +“We'll get her into the office,” said Maitland. + +“A'll tak her,” said McNish, and, stopping down, he lifted her tenderly +in his arms, stood for a moment facing the crowd, and then in a voice of +unutterable sadness that told of a broken heart, he said: “Ye've killed +her. Ye've killed the puir lassie. Are ye content?” And passed in +through the gate, holding the motionless form close to his heart. + +As he passed with his pathetic burden, the men on guard at the gate +bared their heads. Immediately on every hand throughout the crowd men +took off their hats and stood silent till he had disappeared from their +sight. In the presence of that poignant grief their rage against him +ceased, swept out of their hearts by an overwhelming pity. + +In one swift instant a door had opened from another and unknown world, +and through the open door a Presence, majestic, imperious, had moved +in upon them, withering with His icy breath their hot passions, smiting +their noisy clamour to guilty silence. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A GALLANT FIGHT + + +In the Rectory the night was one long agony of fear and anxiety. Adrien +had taken Mrs. Egan and her babe home in a taxi as soon as circumstances +would warrant, and then, lest they should alarm their mother, they made +pretense of retiring for the night. + +After seeing their mother safely bestowed, they slipped downstairs, and, +muffling the telephone, sat waiting for news, slipping out now and then +to the street, one at a time, to watch the glare of the fire in the sky +and to listen for the sounds of rioting from the town. + +At length from Victor came news of the tragedy. With whitening face, +Adrien took the message. Not for nothing had she walked the wards in +France. + +“Listen, Victor,” she said, speaking in a quick, firm voice. “It is +almost impossible to get a nurse in time and quite impossible to get one +skilled in this sort of case. Come for me. I shall be ready and shall +take charge. Tell Dr. Meredith I am quite free.” + +“All right. Lose no time.” + +“Oh, what is it, Adrien?” said Patricia, wringing her hands. “Is it +Jack? Or Victor?” + +Adrien caught her by the shoulders: “Patricia, I want your help. No +talk! Come with me. I will tell you as I dress.” + +Swiftly, with no hurry or flurry, Adrien changed into her uniform, +packed her bag, giving Patricia meantime the story of the tragedy which +she had heard over the telephone. + +“And to think it might have been Jack,” said Patricia, wringing her +hands. “Oh, dear, dear Annette. Can't I help in some way, Adrien?” + +“Patricia, listen to me, child. The first thing is keep your head. You +can help me greatly. You will take charge here and later, perhaps, you +can help me in other ways. Meantime you must assume full responsibility +for them all here. Much depends on you!” + +The girl stood gazing with wide-open blue eyes at her sister. Then +quietly she answered: + +“I'll do my best, Adrien. There's Vic.” She rushed swiftly downstairs. +Suddenly she stopped, steadied her pace, and received him with a calm +that surprised that young man beyond measure. + +“Adrien is quite ready, Vic,” she said. + +“Topping,” said Vic. “What a brick she is! Dr. Meredith didn't know +where to turn for a nurse. The hospital is full. Every nurse is +engaged. So much sickness, you know, in town. Ah, here she is. You are a +lightning-change artist, Adrien.” + +“How is Annette, Vic? Is she still living?” asked Patricia. + +“I don't know,” replied Vic, wondering at the change in the girl before +him. + +“Darling,” said Adrien, “I will let you know at once. I hate to leave +you.” + +“Leave me!” cried Patricia. “Nonsense, Adrien, I shall be quite all +right. Only,” she added, clasping her hands, “let me know when you can.” + +When the ambulance arrived at the Maitland home, Adrien was at the door. +All was in readiness--hot water, bandages, and everything needful to the +doctor's hand. + +McNish carried Annette up to the room prepared for her, laid her down +and stood in dumb grief looking down upon her. + +Adrien touched him on the arm. + +“Come,” she said. And, taking his arm, led him downstairs. “Stay here,” + she said. “I will bring you word as soon as possible.” + +An hour later she returned, and found him sitting in the exact position +in which she had left him. He apparently had not moved hand or foot. At +her entrance he looked up, eager, voiceless. + +“She is resting,” said Adrien. “The bullet is extracted. It had gone +quite through to the outer skin--a clean wound.” + +“How long,” said McNish, passing his tongue over his dry lips, “how long +does the doctor say--” + +“The doctor says nothing. She asked for you.” + +McNish started up and went toward the door. + +“But you cannot go to her now.” + +“She asked for me?” said McNish. + +“Yes. But she must be kept quite quiet. The very least excitement might +hurt her.” + +“Hurt her?” said McNish, and sat down quietly. + +After a moment's silence, he said: + +“You will let me see her--once more--before she--she--” He paused, his +lips quivering, his great blue eyes pitifully beseeching her. + +“Mr. McNish,” said Adrien, “she may not die.” + +“Ma God!” he whispered, falling on his knees and catching her hand in +both of his. “Ma God! Dinna lee tae me.” + +“Believe me, I would not,” said Adrien, while the great eyes seemed to +drag the truth from her very soul. “The doctor says nothing, but I have +seen many cases of bullet wounds, and I have hope.” + +“Hope,” he whispered. “Hope! Ma God! hope!” His hands went to his face +and his great frame shook with silent sobbing. + +“But you must be very quiet and steady.” + +Immediately he was on his feet and standing like a soldier at attention. + +“Ay, A wull,” he whispered eagerly. “Tell me what tae do?” + +“First of all,” said Adrien, “we must have something to eat.” + +A shudder passed through him. “Eat?” he said, as if he had never heard +the word. + +“Yes,” said Adrien. “Remember, you promised.” + +“Ay. A'll eat.” Like a man under a mesmeric spell, he went through the +motions of eating. His mind was far away, his eyes eager, alert, forever +upon her face. + +When they had finished their meal, Adrien said: + +“Now, Mr. McNish, is there anything I can do for you?” + +“A would like to send word to ma mither,” he said. “She disna ken +onything--aboot--aboot Annette--aboot Annette an' me,” a faint touch of +red coming slowly up in his grey face. + +“I shall get word to her. I know the very man. I shall phone the +Reverend Murdo Matheson.” + +“Ay,” said McNish, “he is the man.” + +“Now, then,” said Adrien, placing him in an easy chair, “you must rest +there. Remember, I am keeping watch.” + +With the promise that he would do his best to rest, she left him sitting +bolt upright in his chair. + +Toward morning, Maitland appeared, weary and haggard. Adrien greeted him +with tender solicitude; it was almost maternal in its tone. + +“Oh, Adrien,” said Maitland, with a great sight of relief, “you don't +know how good it is to see you here. It bucks one tremendously to feel +that you are on this job.” + +“I shall get you some breakfast immediately,” she answered in a calm, +matter-of-fact voice. “You are done out. Your father has come in and has +gone to lie down. McNish is in the library.” + +“And Annette?” said Maitland. He was biting his lips to keep them from +quivering. “Is she still--” + +“She is resting. The maid is watching beside her. Dear Jack,” she +uttered with a quick rush of sympathy, “I know how hard this is for you. +But I am not without hope for Annette.” + +A quick light leaped into his eyes. “Hope, did you say? Oh, thank the +good Lord.” His voice broke and he turned away from her. “You know,” he +said, coming back, “she gave her life for me. Oh, Adrien, think of it! +She threw herself in the way of death for me. She covered me with her +own body.” He sat down suddenly as if almost in collapse, and buried his +head in his arms, struggling for control. + +Adrien went to him and put her arm round his shoulder--she might have +been his mother. “Dear Jack,” she said, “it was a wonderful thing she +did. God will surely spare her to you.” + +He rose wearily from his chair and put his arms around her. + +“Oh, Adrien,” he said, “it is good to have you here. I do need, we all +need you so.” + +Gently she put his arms away from her. “And now,” she said briskly, +“I am going to take charge of you, Jack, of you all, and you must obey +orders.” + +“Only give me a chance to do anything for you,” he said, “or for anyone +you care for.” + +There was a puzzled expression on Adrien's face as she turned away. But +she asked no explanation. + +“My first order, then,” she said, “is this: you must have your breakfast +and then go to bed for an hour or two.” + +“I shall be glad to breakfast, but I have a lot of things to do.” + +“Can't they wait? And won't you do them better after a good sleep?” + +“Some of them can't wait,” he replied. “I have just got Tony to bed. The +doctor has sent him to sleep. His father and mother are watching him. +Oh, Adrien, that is a sad home. It was a terrible experience for me. +Tony I must see when he wakes and the poor old father and mother will be +over here early. I must be ready for them.” + +“Very well, Jack,” said Adrien in a prompt, businesslike tone. “You have +two clear hours for sleep. You must sleep for the sake of others, you +understand. I promise to wake you in good time.” + +“And what about yourself, Adrien?” + +“Oh, this is my job,” she said lightly. “I shall be relieved in the +afternoon, the doctor has promised.” + +When the Employers' Defence Committee met next morning there were many +haggard faces among its members. In the large hall outside the committee +room a considerable number of citizens, young and old, had gathered and +with them the Mayor, conversing in voices tinged with various emotions, +anxiety, pity, wrath, according to the temper and disposition of each. + +In the committee room Mr. Farrington was in the chair. No sooner had +the meeting been called to order than Mr. Maitland arose, and, speaking +under deep but controlled feeling, he said: + +“Gentlemen, I felt sure none of us would wish to transact ordinary +business this morning. I was sure, too, that in the very distressing +circumstances under which we meet you would feel as I do the need +of guidance and help. I therefore took the liberty of inviting the +deputation from the Ministerial Association which waited on us the other +day to join us in our deliberation. Mr. Haynes is away from town, but +Dr. Templeton and Mr. Matheson have kindly consented to be present. They +will be here in half an hour's time.” + +A general and hearty approval of his action was expressed, after which +the Chairman invited suggestions as to the course to be pursued. But +no one was ready with a suggestion. Somehow the outlook upon life +was different this morning, and readjustment of vision appeared to be +necessary. No man felt himself qualified to offer advice. + +From this dilemma they were relieved by a knock upon the door and the +Mayor appeared. + +“Gentlemen,” he said, “I have no wish to intrude, but a great many of +our citizens are in the larger hall. They are anxious to be advised upon +the present trying situation. It has been suggested that your committee +might join with us in a general public meeting.” + +After a few moments' consideration, the Mayor's proposition was accepted +and the committee adjourned to the larger hall, Mr. Farrington resigning +the chair to His Worship, the Mayor. + +The Mayor's tongue was not so ready this morning. He explained the +circumstances of the meeting and thanked the committee for yielding to +his request. He was ready to receive any suggestions as to what the next +step should be. + +The silence which followed was broken by Mr. McGinnis, who arose and, in +a voice much shaken, he inquired: + +“Can anyone tell us just what is the last word concerning the young girl +this morning?” + +Mr. Maitland replied: “Before I left the house, the last report was that +she was resting quietly and, while the doctor was not able to offer any +hope of her recovery, he ventured to say that he did not quite despair. +And that from Dr. Meredith, as we know, means something.” + +“Thank God for that,” said McGinnis, and leaning his head upon his hand, +he sat with his eyes fixed upon the floor. + +Again the Mayor asked for suggestions, but no one in the audience +appeared willing to assume the responsibility of offering guidance. + +At length Rupert Stillwell arose. He apologised for speaking in the +presence of older men, but something had to be done and he ventured to +offer one suggestion at least. + +“It occurs to me,” he said, “that one thing at least should be +immediately done. Those responsible for the disgraceful riot of last +evening, and I mean more than the actual ringleaders in the affair, +should be brought to justice.” He proceeded to elaborate upon the +enormity of the crime, the danger to the State of mob rule, the +necessity for stern measures to prevent the recurrence of such +disorders. He suggested a special citizens' committee for the +preservation of public order. + +His words appeared to meet the approval of a large number of those +present, especially of the younger men. + +While he was speaking, the audience appeared to be greatly relieved to +see Dr. Templeton and the Reverend Murdo Matheson walk in and quietly +take their seats. They remembered, many of them, how at a recent similar +gathering these gentlemen had advised a procedure which, if followed, +would have undoubtedly prevented the disasters of the previous night. + +Giving a brief account of the proceedings of the meeting to the present +point, the Mayor suggested that Dr. Templeton might offer them a word of +advice. + +Courteously thanking the Mayor for his invitation, the Doctor said: + +“As I came in this room, I caught the words of my young friend, who +suggested a committee for the preservation of public order. May I +suggested that the preservation of public order in the community is +something that can be entrusted to no committee? It rests with the whole +community. We have all made mistakes, we are constantly making mistakes. +We have yielded to passion, and always to our sorrow and hurt. We have +vainly imagined that by the exercise of force we can settle strife. +No question of right or justice is settled by fighting, for, after the +fighting is done, the matter in dispute remains to be settled. We have +tried that way and to-day we are fronted with disastrous failure. I +have come from a home over which the shadow of death hangs low. There a +father and mother lie prostrate with sorrow, agonising for the life of +their child. But a deeper shadow lies there, a shadow of sin, for the +sting of death is sin. A brother torn with self-condemnation, his heart +broken with grief for his sister, who loved him better than her own +life, lies under that shadow of sin. But, gentlemen, can any of us +escape from that shadow? Do we not all share in that sin? For we all +have a part in the determining of our environment. Can we not, by God's +grace, lift that shadow at least from our lives? Let us turn our faces +from the path of strife toward the path of peace, for the pathway of +right doing and of brotherly kindness is the only path to peace in this +world.” + +The Chairman then called upon the Reverend Murdo Matheson to express +his mind. But at this point, the whole audience were galvanised into an +intensity of confused emotion by the entrance of the Executive of the +Allied Unions, led by McNish himself. Simmons alone was absent, being +at that moment, with some half dozen others, in the care of the police. +Silently the Executive Committee walked to the front and found seats, +McNish alone remaining standing. Grey, gaunt, hollow-eyed, he met with +steady gaze the eyes of the audience, some of them aflame with hostile +wrath, for in him they recognised the responsible head of the labour +movement that had wrought such disaster and grief in the community. + +Without apology or preface McNish began: “I am here seeking peace,” he +said, in his hoarse, hard, guttural voice. “I have made mistakes. Would +I could suffer for them alone, but no, others must suffer with me. I +have only condemnation for the outrages of last night. We repudiate +them, we lament them. We tried to prevent them, but human passion and +circumstances were too strong for us. We would undo the ill--would to +God could undo the ill. How gladly would I suffer all that has come to +others.” His deep, harsh voice shook under the stress of his emotion. +He lifted his head: “I cannot deny my cause,” he continued, his voice +ringing out clear. “Our cause was right, but the spirit was wrong.” He +paused a few moments, evidently gathering strength to hold his voice +steady. “Yes, the spirit was wrong and this day is a black day to me. We +come to ask for peace. God knows I have no heart for war.” + +Again he paused, his strong stern face working strangely under the +stress of the emotions which he was fighting to subdue. “We suggest a +committee of three, with powers to arbitrate, and we name as our man one +who till recently was one of our Union, a man of fair and honest mind, +a man without fear and with a heart for his comrades. Our man is Captain +Maitland.” + +His words, and especially the name of the representative of the labour +unions produced an overwhelming effect upon the audience. No sooner had +he finished than the Reverend Murdo Matheson took the floor. He spoke no +economics. He offered no elaborate argument for peace. In plain, simple +words he told of experiences through which he had recently passed: + +“Like one whom I feel it an honour to call my father,” he began, bowing +toward Dr. Templeton, “I, too, have made a visit this morning. Not to +a home, but to a place the most unlike a home of any spot in this sad +world, a jail. Seven of our fellow-citizens are confined there, six +of them boys, mere boys, dazed and penetrated with sorrow for their +folly--they meant no crime--I am not relieving them of the blame--the +other, a man, embittered with a long, hard fight against poverty, +injustice and cruel circumstance in another land, with distorted views +of life, crazed by drink, committed a crime which this morning fills him +with horror and grief. Late last night I was sent to the home of one of +my people. There I found an aged lady, carrying with a brave heart the +sorrows and burdens of nearly seventy years, waiting in anxiety and +grief and fear for her son, who was keeping vigil at what may well be +the deathbed of the girl he loves. You have just heard his plea for +peace. Some of you are inclined to lay the blame for the ills that have +fallen upon us upon certain classes and individuals in this community. +They have their blame and they must bear the responsibility. But, +gentlemen, a juster estimate of the causes of these ills will convince +us that they are the product of our civilisation and for these things +we must all accept our share of responsibility. More, we must seek to +remove them from among us. They are an affront to our intelligence, an +insult to our holy religion, an outrage upon the love of our brother man +and our Father, God. Let us humbly, resolutely seek the better way, +the way we have set before us this morning, the way of right doing, of +brotherly kindness and of brotherly love which is the way of peace.” + +It was a subdued company of men that listened to his appeal. In silence +they sat looking straight before them with faces grave and frowning, as +is the way with men of our race when deeply stirred. + +It was a morning of dramatic surprises, but none were so startling, none +so dramatic as the speech of McGinnis that followed. + +“This is a day for confessions,” he said, “and I am here to make one for +myself. I have been a fighter, too much of a fighter, all my life, and +I have often suffered for it. I suffered a heavy loss last night and +to-day I am sick of fighting. But I have found this: that you can't +fight men in this world without fighting women and children, too. God +knows I have no war with the old, grey-haired lady the Padre has just +told us about. I have no war with that broken-hearted father and mother. +And I have no war with Annette Perrotte, dear girl, God preserve her.” + At this point, McGinnis's command quite forsook him. His voice utterly +broke down, while the tears ran down his rugged fighting face. “I am +done with fighting,” he cried. “They have named Captain Maitland. We +know him for a straight man and a white man. Let me talk with Captain +Jack Maitland, and let us get together with the Padre there,” pointing +to the Reverend Murdo Matheson, “and in an hour we will settle this +matter.” + +In a tumult of approval the suggestion was accepted. It was considered +a perfectly fitting thing, though afterwards men spoke of it with +something of wonder, that the Mayor should have called upon the Reverend +Doctor to close the meeting with prayer, and that he should do so +without making a speech. + +That same afternoon the three men met to consider the matter submitted +to them. Captain Jack Maitland laid before the committee his figures and +his charts setting forth the facts in regard to the cost of living and +the wage scale during the past five years. In less than an hour they +had agreed upon a settlement. There was to be an increase of wages in +keeping with the rise of the cost of living, with the pledge that the +wage scale should follow the curb of the cost of living should any +change occur within the year. The hours of labour were shortened from +ten to nine for a day's work, with the pledge that they should be +governed by the effect of the change upon production and general +conditions. And further, that a Committee of Reference should be +appointed for each shop and craft, to which all differences should be +submitted. To this committee also were referred the other demands by the +Allied Unions. + +It was a simple solution of the difficulty and upon its submission to +the public meeting called for its consideration, it was felt that the +comment of the irrepressible Victor Forsythe was not entirely unfitting: + +“Of course!” said Victor, cheerfully. “It is the only thing. Why didn't +the Johnnies think of it before, or why didn't they ask me?” + +The committee, however, did more than settle the dispute immediately +before them. They laid before the public meeting and obtained its +approval for the creation of a General Board of Industry, under whose +guidance the whole question of the industrial life of the community +should be submitted to intelligent study and control. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +SHALL BE GIVEN + + +For one long week of seven long days and seven long nights Annette +fought out her gallant fight for life, fought and won. Throughout the +week at her side Adrien waited day and night, except for a few hours +snatched for rest, when Patricia took her place, for there was not a +nurse to be had in all that time and Patricia begged for the privilege +of sharing her vigil with her. + +Every day and in the darkest days all day long, it seemed to Adrien, +McNish haunted the Maitland home--for he had abandoned all pretence of +work--his gaunt, grey face and hollow eyes imploring a word of hope. + +But it was chiefly to Jack throughout that week that Adrien's heart +went out in compassionate pity, for in his face there dwelt a misery so +complete, so voiceless that no comfort of hers appeared to be able to +bring relief. Often through those days did Annette ask to see him, but +the old doctor was relentless. There must be absolute quiet and utter +absence of all excitement. No visitors were to be permitted, especially +no men visitors. + +But the day came when the ban was lifted and with smiling face, Adrien +came for Jack. + +“You have been such a good boy,” she cried gaily, “that I am going to +give you a great treat. You are to come in with me.” + +With face all alight Jack followed her into the sick room. + +“Here he is, Annette,” cried Adrien. “Now, remember, no fussing, +no excitement, and just one quarter of an hour--or perhaps a little +longer,” she added. + +For a moment or two Jack stood looking at the girl lying upon the bed. + +“Oh, Annette, my dear, dear girl,” he cried in a breaking voice as he +knelt down by her side and took her hand in his. + +So much reached Adrien's ears as she closed the door and passed to her +room with step weary and lifeless. + +“Why, Adrien,” cried her sister, who was waiting to relieve her, “you +are like a ghost! You poor dear. You are horribly done out.” + +“I believe I am, Patricia,” said Adrien. “I believe I shall rest +awhile.” She lay down on the bed, her face turned toward the wall, and +so remained till Patricia went softly away, leaving her, as she thought, +to sleep. + +Downstairs Patricia found Victor Forsythe awaiting her. + +“Poor Adrien is really used up,” she said. “She has a deathly look in +her face. Just the same look as she had that night of the hockey match. +Do you remember?” + +“The night of the hockey dance? Do I remember? A ghastly night--a horrid +night--a night of unspeakable wretchedness.” + +As Vic was speaking, Patricia kept her eyes steadily upon him with a +pondering, puzzled look. + +“What is it, Patricia? I know you want to ask me something. Is it about +that night?” + +“I wonder if you would really mind very much, Vic, if I asked you?” + +“Not in the very least. I shall doubtless enjoy it after it's out. +Painless dentistry effect. Go to it, Patsy.” + +“It is very serious, Vic. I always think people in books are so stupid. +They come near to the truth and then just miss getting it.” + +“The truth. Ah! Go on, Pat.” + +“Well, Vic,” said Patricia with an air of one taking a desperate +venture, “why did you not give Adrien her note that night? It would have +saved her and me such pain. I cried all night long. I had so counted +on a dance with Jack--and then never a word from him. But he did send a +note. He told me so. I never told Adrien that, for she forbade me, oh, +so terribly, never to speak of it again. Why didn't you give her or me +the note, Vic?” Patricia's voice was very pathetic and her eyes very +gentle but very piercing. + +All the laughter died out of Victor's face. “Pat, I lied to you once, +only once, and that lie has cost me many an hour's misery. But now +I shall tell you the truth and the whole truth.” And he proceeded to +recount the tribulations which he endured on the night of the hockey +dance. “I did it to help you both out, Pat. I thought I could make it +easy for you. It was all a sheer guess, but it turned out to be pretty +well right.” + +Patricia nodded her head. “But you received no note?” + +“Not a scrap, Patricia, so help me. Not a scrap. Patricia, you believe +me?” + +The girl looked straight into Vic's honest eyes. “Yes, Vic,” she said, +“I believe you. But Jack sent a note.” + +Vic sprang to his feet. “Good-bye, Watson. You shall hear from me within +an hour.” + +“Whatever do you mean? Where are you going?” + +“Dear lady, ask no questions. I am about to Sherlock. Farewell.” + +At the door he overtook Jack. “Aha! The first link in the chain. Hello, +old chap, a word with you. May I get into your car?” + +“Certainly. Get in.” + +“Now then, about that note. Nothing like diplomacy. The night of the +hockey dance you sent a note to a lady?” + +Jack glanced at him in amazement. + +“Don't be an ass, Vic. I don't feel like that stuff just now.” + +“This is serious. Did you send a note by me that night of the hockey +dance?” + +“By you? No. Who said I did?” + +“Aha! The mystery deepens. By whom? Nothing like finesse.” + +“It is none of your business,” said Jack crossly. + +“Check,” cried Vic. + +“What are you talking about, anyway?” inquired Jack. + +“A note was sent by you,” said Vic impressively, “through some agency at +present unknown. So far, so good.” + +“Unknown? What rubbish. I sent a note by Sam Wigglesworth, who gave it +to some of you for Adrien. What about it?” + +As they approached the entrance to the Maitland Mills Vic saw a stream +of employees issue from the gate. + +“Nothing more at present,” he said. “This is my corner. Let me out. I am +in an awful hurry, Jack.” + +“Will you tell me, please, what all this means?” said Jack angrily. + +“Sorry, old chap. Awfully hurried just now. See you later.” + +“You are a vast idiot,” grumbled Jack, as Vic ran down the street. + +He took his place at the corner which commanded the entrance to +the Maitland works. “Here I shall wait, abstractedly gazing at the +passers-by, until the unhappy Sam makes his appearance,” mused Vic to +himself. “And by the powers, here Sam is now.” + +From among the employees as they poured from the gate Victor pounced +upon his victim and bore him away down a side street. + +“Sam,” he said, “it may be you are about to die, so tell me the truth. +I hate to take your young life.” Sam grinned at his captor, unafraid. +“Cast your mind back to the occasion of the hockey dance. You remember +that?” + +“You bet I do, Mister. I made a dollar that night.” + +“Ah! A dollar. Yes, you did, for delivering a note given you by Captain +Jack Maitland,” hissed Vic, gripping his arm. + +“Huh-huh,” said Sam. “Look out, Mister, that's me.” + +“Villain!” cried Vic. “Boy, I mean. Now, Sam, did you deliver that +note?” + +“Of course I did. Didn't Captain Jack give me a dollar for it? I didn't +want his dollar.” + +“The last question, Sam,” said Vic solemnly, “to whom did you deliver +the note?” + +“To that chap, the son of the storekeeper.” + +“Rupert Stillwell?” suggested Vic. + +“Huh-huh, that's his name. That's him now,” cried Sam. “In that Hudson +car--see--there--quick!” + +“Boy,” said Vic solemnly, “you have saved your life. Here's a dollar. +Now, remember, not a word about this.” + +“All right, sir,” grinned Sam delightedly, as he made off down the +street. + +“Now then, what?” said Vic to himself. “This thing has got past the joke +stage. I must do some thinking. Shall I tell Pat or not? By Jove, by +Jove, that's not the question. When that young lady gets those big eyes +of hers on me the truth will flow in a limpid stream. I must make sure +of my ground. Meantime I shall do the Kamerad act.” + +That afternoon Annette had another visitor. Her nurse, though somewhat +dubious as to the wisdom of this indulgence, could not bring herself to +refuse her request that McNish should be allowed to see her. + +“But you must be tired. Didn't Jack tire you?” inquired Adrien. + +A soft and tender light stole into the girl's dark eyes. + +“Ah, Jack. He could not tire me,” she murmured. “He makes so much of +what I did. How gladly would I do it again. Jack is wonderful to me. +Wonderful to me,” she repeated softly. Her lip trembled and she lay back +upon her pillow and from her closed eyes two tears ran down her cheek. + +“Now,” said Adrien briskly, “you are too tired. We shall wait till +to-morrow.” + +“No, no, please,” cried Annette. “Jack didn't tire me. He comforts me.” + +“But Malcolm will tire you,” said Adrien. “Do you really want to see +him?” + +A faint colour came up into the beautiful face of her patient. + +“Yes, Adrien, I really want to see him. I am sure he will do me good. +You will let him come, please?” The dark eyes were shining with another +light, more wistful, more tender. + +“Is he here, Adrien?” + +“Is he here?” echoed Adrien scornfully. “Has he been anywhere else the +last seven days?” + +“Poor Malcolm,” said the girl, the tenderness in her voice becoming +protective. “I have been very bad to him, and he loves me so. Oh, he is +just mad about me!” A little smile stole round the corners of her mouth. + +“Oh, you needn't tell me that, Annette,” said Adrien. “It is easy for +you to make men mad about you.” + +“Not many,” said the girl, still softly smiling. + +McNish went toward the door of the sick room as if approaching a holy +shrine, walking softly and reverently. + +“Go in, lucky man,” said Adrien. “Go in, and thank God for your good +fortune.” + +He paused at the door, turned about and looked at her with grave eyes. +“Miss Templeton,” he said in slow, reverent tones, “all my life shall I +thank God for His great mercy tae me.” + +“Don't keep her waiting, man,” said Adrien, waving him in. Then McNish +went in and she closed the door softly upon them. + +“There are only a few great moments given to men,” she said, “and this +is one of them for those two happy people.” + +In ten days Annette was pronounced quite fit to return to her family. +But Patricia resolved that they should have a grand fete in the Maitland +home before Annette should leave it. She planned a motor drive in the +cool of the day, and in the evening all their special friends who had +been brought together through the tragic events of the past weeks should +come to bring congratulations and mutual felicitations for the recovery +of the patient. + +Patricia was arranging the guest list, in collaboration with Mr. +Maitland and the assistance of Annette and Victor. + +“We will have our boys, of course,” she began. + +“Old and young, I hope?” suggested Mr. Maitland. + +“Of course!” she cried. “Although I don't know any old ones. That will +mean all the fathers and Vic, Jack, Hugh and Rupert, and Malcolm--” + +“Ah! It has come to Malcolm, then?” murmured Vic. “Certainly, why not? +He loves me to call him Malcolm. And then we will have Mr. Matheson. And +we must have Mr. McGinnis--they have become such great friends. And I +should like to have the Mayor, he is so funny. But perhaps he wouldn't +fit. He DOES take up a lot of attention.” + +“Cut him out!” said Victor with decision. + +“And for ladies,” continued Patricia, “just the relatives--all the +mothers and the sisters. That's enough.” + +“How lovely!” murmured Vic. + +“Oh, if you want any other ladies, Vic,” said Patricia severely, “we +shall be delighted to invite them for you.” + +“Me? Other ladies? What could I do with other ladies? Is not my young +life one long problem as it is? Ah! Speaking of problems, that reminds +me. I have a communication to make to you young lady.” Vic's manner +suggested a profound and deadly mystery. He led Patricia away from the +others. “I have something to tell you, Patricia,” he said, abandoning +all badinage. “I hate to do it but it is right for you, for myself, for +Adrien, and by Jove for poor old Jack, too. Though, perhaps--well, let +that go.” + +“Oh, Vic!” cried Patricia. “It is about the note!” + +“Yes, Patricia. That note was given by Jack to Sam Wigglesworth, who +gave it to Rupert Stillwell.” + +“And he forgot?” gasped Patricia. + +“Ah--ah--at least, he didn't deliver it. No, Patricia, we are telling +the whole truth. He didn't forget. You remember he asked about Jack. +There, I have given you all I know. Make of it what you like.” + +“Shall I tell Adrien?” asked Patricia. + +“I think certainly Adrien ought to know.” + +“Then I'll tell her to-night,” said Patricia. “I want it all over before +our fete, which is day after to-morrow.” + +Rupert Stillwell had been in almost daily attendance upon Adrien during +the past two weeks, calling for her almost every afternoon with his car. +The day following he came for her according to his custom. Upon Adrien's +face there dwelt a gentle, tender, happy look as if her heart were +singing for very joy. That look upon her face drove from Rupert all the +hesitation and fear which had fallen upon him during these days of her +ministry to the wounded girl. He took a sudden and desperate resolve +that he would put his fate to the test. + +Adrien's answer was short and decisive. + +“No, Rupert,” she said. “I cannot. I thought for a little while, long +ago, that perhaps I might, but now I know that I never could have loved +you.” + +“You were thinking of that note of Jack Maitland's which I sent you last +night?” + +“Oh, no,” she said gently. “Not that.” + +“I felt awfully mean about that, Adrien. I feel mean still. I thought +that as you had learned all about it from Victor, it was of no +importance.” + +“Yes,” she replied gently, “but I was the best judge of that.” + +“Adrien, tell me,” Rupert's voice shook with the intensity of his +passion, “is there no hope?” + +“No,” she said, “there is no hope, Rupert.” + +“There is someone else,” he said, savagely. + +“Yes,” she said, happily, “I think so.” + +“Someone,” continued Rupert, his voice trembling with rage, “someone who +distributes his affections.” + +“No,” she said, a happy smile in her eyes, “I think not.” + +“You love him?” he asked. + +“Oh, yes,” she whispered, with a little catch in her breath, “I love +him.” + +At the door on their return Jack met them. A shadow fell upon his face, +but with a quick resolve, he shouted a loud welcome to them. + +“Hello, Adrien,” he cried, as she came running up the steps. “You +apparently have had a lovely drive.” + +“Oh, wonderful, Jack. A wonderful drive,” she replied. + +“Yes, you do look happy.” + +“Oh, so happy. I was never so happy.” + +“Then,” said Jack, dropping his voice, “may I congratulate you?” + +“Yes, I think so,” she said. “I hope so.” And then laughed aloud for +very glee. + +Jack turned from her with a quick sharp movement, went down the steps +and offering his hand to Rupert, said: + +“Good luck, old chap. I wish you good luck.” + +“Eh? What? Oh, all right,” said Rupert in a dazed sort of way. But he +didn't come into the house. + +Never was there such a day in June, never such a fete. The park never +looked so lovely and never a party so gay disported themselves in it +and gayest of them all was Adrien. All day long it seemed as if her very +soul were laughing for joy. And all day long she kept close beside +Jack, chaffing him, laughing at him, rallying him on his solemn face and +driving him half-mad with her gay witchery. + +Then home they all came to supper, where waited them McNish and his +mother with Mr. McGinnis, for they had been unable to join in the motor +drive. + +“Ma certie, lassie! But ye're a sight for sare een. What hae ye bin +daein tae her, Mr. Jack,” said Mrs. McNish, as she welcomed them at the +door. + +“The Lord only knows,” said Jack. + +“But, man, look at her!” exclaimed the old lady. + +“I have been, all day long,” replied Jack with a gallant attempt at +gaiety. + +“Oh, Mrs. McNish,” cried the girl, rippling with joyous laughter, +“he won't even look at me. He just--what do you say--glowers, that's +it--glowers at me. And we have had such a wonderful day. Come, Jack, get +yourself ready for supper. You have only a few minutes.” + +She caught her arm through his and laughing shamelessly into his eyes, +drew him away. + +“I say, Adrien,” said Jack, driven finally to desperation and drawing +her into the quiet of the library, “I am awfully glad you are so happy +and all that, but I don't see the necessity of rubbing it into a fellow. +You know how I feel. I am glad for you and--I am glad for Rupert. Or, at +least I told him so.” + +“But, Jack,” said the girl, her eyes burning with a deep inner glow, +“Rupert has nothing to do with it. Rupert, indeed,” and she laughed +scornfully. “Oh, Jack, why can't you see?” + +“See what?” he said crossly. + +“Jack,” she said softly, turning toward him and standing very near him, +“you remember the note you sent me?” + +“Note?” + +“The note you sent the night of the hockey dance?” + +“Yes,” said Jack bitterly, “I remember.” + +“And you remember, too, how horrid I was to you the next time I saw you? +How horrid? Oh, Jack, it broke my heart.” Her voice faltered a moment +and her shining eyes grew dim. “I was so horrid to you.” + +“Oh, no,” said Jack coolly, “you were kind. You were very kind and +sisterly, as I remember.” + +“Jack,” she said and her breath began to come hurriedly, “I got that +note yesterday. Only yesterday, Jack.” + +“Yesterday?” + +“Yes, only yesterday. And I read it, Jack,” she added with a happy +laugh. “And in that note, Jack, you said--do you remember--” + +But Jack stood gazing stupidly at her. She pulled the note from her +bosom. + +“Oh, Jack, you said--” + +Still Jack gazed at her. + +“Jack, you will kill me. Won't you hurry? Oh, I can't wait a moment +longer. You said you were going to tell me something, Jack.” She stood +radiant, breathless and madly alluring. “And oh, Jack, won't you tell +me?” + +“Adrien,” said Jack, his voice husky and uncontrolled. “Do you mean that +you--” + +“Oh, Jack, tell me quick,” she said, swaying toward him. And while she +clung to him taking his kisses on her lips, Jack told her. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of To Him That Hath, by Ralph Connor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO HIM THAT HATH *** + +***** This file should be named 3244-0.txt or 3244-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/3244/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/3244-0.zip b/3244-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e9d6484 --- /dev/null +++ b/3244-0.zip diff --git a/3244-h.zip b/3244-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bf5d6fb --- /dev/null +++ b/3244-h.zip diff --git a/3244-h/3244-h.htm b/3244-h/3244-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..60bf3c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/3244-h/3244-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12482 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + To Him That Hath, by Ralph Connor + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of To Him That Hath, by Ralph Connor + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: To Him That Hath + A Novel Of The West Of Today + +Author: Ralph Connor + +Release Date: June 3, 2006 [EBook #3244] +Last Updated: March 5, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO HIM THAT HATH *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + TO HIM THAT HATH + </h1> + <h2> + A NOVEL OF THE WEST OF TODAY <br /> <br /> By Ralph Connor + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + + <tr><td><a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </td><td> THE GAME</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a + href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </td><td> THE COST OF SACRIFICE</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> + CHAPTER III </td><td> THE HEATHEN QUEST</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </td><td> ANNETTE</a></td></tr><tr><td> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </td><td> THE RECTORY</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> + CHAPTER VI </td><td> THE GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </td><td> THE FOREMAN</a></td></tr><tr><td> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </td><td> FREE SPEECH</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a + href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </td><td> THE DAY BEFORE</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> + CHAPTER X </td><td> THE NIGHT OF VICTORY</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </td><td> THE NEW MANAGER</a></td></tr><tr><td> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </td><td> LIGHT THAT IS DARKNESS</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a + href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </td><td> THE STRIKE</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> + CHAPTER XIV </td><td> GATHERING CLOUDS</a></td></tr><tr><td> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </td><td> THE STORM</a></td></tr><tr><td> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </td><td> A GALLANT FIGHT</td><td> </a></td></tr><tr><td> <a + href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </td><td> SHALL BE GIVEN</a></td></tr> + + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + TO HIM THAT HATH + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + THE GAME + </h3> + <p> + “Forty-Love.” + </p> + <p> + “Game! and Set. Six to two.” + </p> + <p> + A ripple of cheers ran round the court, followed by a buzz of excited + conversation. + </p> + <p> + The young men smiled at each other and at their friends on the side lines + and proceeded to change courts for the next set, pausing for refreshments + on the way. + </p> + <p> + “Much too lazy, Captain Jack. I am quite out of patience with you,” cried + a young girl whose brown eyes were dancing with mock indignation. + </p> + <p> + Captain Jack turned with a slightly bored look on his thin dark face. + </p> + <p> + “Too lazy, Frances?” drawled he. “I believe you. But think of the + temperature.” + </p> + <p> + “You have humiliated me dreadfully,” she said severely. + </p> + <p> + “Humiliated you? You shock me. But how, pray?” Captain Jack's eyes opened + wide. + </p> + <p> + “You, a Canadian, and our best player—at least, you used to be—to + allow yourself to be beaten by a—a—” she glanced at his + opponent with a defiant smile—“a foreigner.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I say, Miss Frances,” exclaimed that young man. + </p> + <p> + “A foreigner?” exclaimed Captain Jack. “Better not let Adrien hear you.” + He turned toward a tall fair girl standing near. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” said the girl. “Did I hear aright?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he's not a Canadian, I mean,” said Frances, sticking to her guns. + “Besides, I can't stand Adrien crowing over me. She is already far too + English, don-che-know. You have given her one more occasion for triumph + over us Colonials.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, this is serious,” said Captain Jack. “But really it is too hot you + know for—what shall I say?—International complications.” + </p> + <p> + “Jack, you are plain lazy,” said Frances. “You know you are. You don't + deserve to win, but if you really would put your back into it—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, Frances. Why! You don't know that my cousin played for his + College at Oxford. And that is saying something,” said Adrien. + </p> + <p> + “There you are, Jack! That's the sort of thing I have to live with,” said + Frances. “She thinks that settles everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, doesn't it rather?” smiled Adrien. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack, if you have any regard for your country, not to say my unworthy + self, won't you humble her?” implored Frances. “If you would only buck + up!” + </p> + <p> + “He will need to, eh, Adrien?” said a young fellow standing near, slowly + sipping his drink. + </p> + <p> + “I think so. Indeed, I am quite sure of it,” coolly replied the girl + addressed. “But I really think it is quite useless.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! Ha! Cheer up, Jack,” laughed the young man, Stillwell by name. + </p> + <p> + “Really, old chap, I feel I must beat you this set,” said Captain Jack to + the young Englishman. “My country's credit as well as my own is at stake, + you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Both are fairly assured, I should say,” said the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “Not to-day,” said Stillwell, with a suspicion of a polite sneer in his + voice. “My money says so.” + </p> + <p> + “Canada vs. the Old Country!” cried a voice from the company. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Jack, Jack, remember,” implored Frances. + </p> + <p> + “You have no mercy, Miss Frances, I see,” said the Englishman, looking + straight into her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely none,” she replied, smiling saucily at him. + </p> + <p> + “Vae victis, eh, old chap?” said Sidney, as they sauntered off together to + their respective courts. “By the way, who is that Stillwell chap?” he + asked in a low voice of Captain Jack as they moved away from the others. + “Of any particular importance?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you've got him all right,” replied Jack carelessly. The + Englishman nodded. + </p> + <p> + “He somehow gets my goat,” said Jack. The Englishman looked mystified. + </p> + <p> + “Rubs me the wrong way, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very good, very good. I must remember that.” + </p> + <p> + “He rather fancies his own game, too,” said Jack, “and he has come on the + last year or two. In more ways than one,” he added as an afterthought. + </p> + <p> + As they faced each other on the court it was Stillwell's voice that rang + out: + </p> + <p> + “Now then, England!” + </p> + <p> + “Canada!” cried a girl's voice that was easily recognised as that of + Frances Amory. + </p> + <p> + “Thumbs down, eh, Maitland?” said the Englishman, waving a hand toward his + charming enemy. + </p> + <p> + Whatever the cause, whether from the spur supplied by the young lady who + had constituted herself his champion or from the sting from the man for + whom for reasons sufficient for himself he had only feelings of hostility + and dislike, the game put up by Captain Jack was of quite a different + brand from that he had previously furnished. From the first service he + took the offensive and throughout played brilliant, aggressive, even + smashing tennis, so much so that his opponent appeared to be almost + outclassed and at the close the figures of the first set were exactly + reversed, standing six to two in Captain Jack's favour. + </p> + <p> + The warmth of the cheers that followed attested the popularity of the win. + </p> + <p> + “My word, old chap, that is top-hole tennis,” said the Englishman, warmly + congratulating him. + </p> + <p> + “Luck, old boy, brilliant luck!” said Captain Jack. “Couldn't do it again + for a bet.” + </p> + <p> + “You must do it just once more,” said Frances, coming to meet the players. + “Oh, you dear old thing. Come and be refreshed. Here is the longest, + coolest thing in drinks this Club affords. And one for you, too,” she + added, turning to the Englishman. “You played a great game.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I not? I was at the top of my form,” said the Englishman gallantly. + “But all in vain, as you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Now for the final,” cried Frances eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Dear lady,” said Captain Jack, affecting supreme exhaustion, “as you are + mighty, be merciful! Let it suffice that we appear to have given you an + exposition of fairly respectable tennis. I am quite done.” + </p> + <p> + “A great win, Jack,” said Adrien, offering her hand in congratulation. + </p> + <p> + “All flukes count, eh, Maitland?” laughed Stillwell, unable in spite of + his laugh to keep the bite out of his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Fluke?” exclaimed the Englishman in a slow drawling voice. “I call it + ripping good tennis, if I am a judge.” + </p> + <p> + A murmur of approval ran through the company, crowding about with + congratulations to both players. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, of course, of course,” said Stillwell, noting the criticism of his + unsportsmanlike remark. “What I mean is, Maitland is clearly out of + condition. If he were not I wouldn't mind taking him on myself,” he added + with another laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Now, do you mean?” said Captain Jack lazily. + </p> + <p> + “We will wait till the match is played out,” said Stillwell with easy + confidence. “Some other day, when you are in shape, eh?” he added, smiling + at Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “Now if you like, or after the match, or any old time,” said Captain Jack, + looking at Stillwell with hard grey, unsmiling eyes. “I understand you + have come up on your game during the war.” + </p> + <p> + Stillwell's face burned a furious red at the little laugh that went round + among Captain Jack's friends. + </p> + <p> + “Frankly, I have had enough for to-day,” said the Englishman to Jack. + </p> + <p> + “All right, old chap, if you don't really mind. Though I feel you would + certainly take the odd set.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it, by Jove. I am quite satisfied to let it go at that. We + will have another go some time.” + </p> + <p> + “Any time that suits you—to-morrow, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow be it,” said the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, Stillwell,” said Captain Jack, with a curt nod at him. + “Whenever you are ready.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, Maitland. I was only joshing, you know. You don't want to play + with me to-day,” said Stillwell, not relishing the look on Maitland's + face. “We can have a set any time.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said Maitland shortly. “It's now or never.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right,” said Stillwell, with an uneasy laugh, going into the Club + house for his racquet. + </p> + <p> + The proposed match had brought a new atmosphere into the Club house, an + atmosphere of contest with all the fun left out. + </p> + <p> + “I don't like this at all,” said a man with iron grey hair and deeply + tanned face. + </p> + <p> + “One can't well object, Russell,” said a younger man, evidently a friend + of Stillwell's. “Maitland brought it on, and I hope he gets mighty well + trimmed. He is altogether too high and mighty these days.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't agree with you at all,” broke in Frances, in a voice coldly + proper. “You heard what Mr. Stillwell said?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, not exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I might have guessed you had not,” answered the young lady, turning + away. + </p> + <p> + Edwards looked foolishly round upon the circle of men who stood grinning + at him. + </p> + <p> + “Now will you be good?” said a youngster who had led the laugh at Edwards' + expense. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil are you laughing at, Menzies?” he asked hotly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, don't you see the joke?” enquired Menzies innocently. “Well, carry + on! You will to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Edwards growled out an oath and took himself off. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the match was making furious progress, with the fury, it must be + confessed, confined to one side only of the net. Captain Jack was playing + a driving, ruthless game, snatching and employing without mercy every + advantage that he could legitimately claim. He delivered his service with + deadly precision, following up at the net with a smashing return, which + left his opponent helpless. His aggressive tactics gave his opponent + almost no opportunity to score, and he kept the pace going at the height + of his speed. The onlookers were divided in their sentiments. Stillwell + had a strong following of his own who expressed their feelings by their + silence at Jack's brilliant strokes and their loud approval of Stillwell's + good work when he gave them opportunity, while many of Maitland's friends + deprecated his tactics and more especially his spirit. + </p> + <p> + At whirlwind pace Captain Jack made the first three games a “love” score, + leaving his opponent dazed, bewildered with his smashing play and blind + with rage at his contemptuous bearing. + </p> + <p> + “I think I must go home, Frances,” said Adrien to her friend, her face + pale, her head carried high. + </p> + <p> + Frances seized her by the arm and drew her to one side. + </p> + <p> + “Adrien, you must not go! You simply must not!” she said in a low tense + voice. “It will be misunderstood, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I am going, Frances,” said her friend in a cold, clear voice. “I have had + enough tennis for this afternoon. Where is Sidney? Ah, there he is across + the court. No! Let me go, Frances!” + </p> + <p> + “You simply must not go like that in the middle of a game, Adrien. Wait at + least till this game is over,” said her friend, clutching hard at her arm. + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Let us go to Sidney,” said Adrien. + </p> + <p> + Together they made their way round the court almost wholly unobserved, so + intent was the crowd upon the struggle going on before them. As the game + finished Adrien laid her hand upon her cousin's arm. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you had enough of this?” she said. Her voice carried clear across + the court. + </p> + <p> + “What d'ye say? By Jove, no!” said her cousin in a joyous voice. “This is + the most cheering thing I've seen for many moons, Adrien. Eh, what? Oh, I + beg pardon, are you seedy?” he added glancing at her. “Oh, certainly, I'll + come at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. Don't think of it. I have a call to make on my way home. + Please don't come.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Adrien, I say, this will be over now in a few minutes. Can't you + really wait?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am not in the least interested in this—this kind of tennis,” + she said in a bored voice. + </p> + <p> + Her tone, pitched rather higher than usual, carried to the ears of the + players who were changing ends at the moment. Both of the men glanced at + her. Stillwell's face showed swift gratitude. On Jack's face the shadow + darkened but except for a slight straightening of the line of his lips he + gave no sign. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite sure you don't care?” said Sidney. “You don't want me? This + really is great, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Not for worlds would I drag you away,” said Adrien in a cool, clear + voice. “Frances will keep you company.” She turned to her friend. “Look + after him, Frances,” she said. “Good-bye. Dinner at seven to-night, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Right-o!” said Sidney, raising his hat in farewell. “By Jove, I wouldn't + miss this for millions,” he continued, making room for Frances beside him. + “Your young friend is really somewhat violent in his style, eh, what?” + </p> + <p> + “There are times when violence is the only possible thing,” replied + Frances grimly. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, who is the victim? I mean, what is he exactly?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Stillwell? Oh, he is the son of his father, the biggest merchant in + Blackwater. Oh, lovely! Beautiful return! Jack is simply away above his + form! And something of a merchant and financier on his own account, to be + quite fair. Making money fast and using it wisely. But I'm not going to + talk about him. You see a lot of him about the Rectory, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, something,” replied Sidney. “I can't quite understand the + situation, I confess. To be quite frank, I don't cotton much to him. A bit + sweetish, eh, what?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, at the Rectory doubtless. I would hardly attribute to him a sweet + disposition. Oh, quit talking about him. He had flat feet in the war, I + think it was. Jack's twin brother was killed, you know—and mine—well, + you know how mine is.” + </p> + <p> + A swift vision of a bright-faced, cheery-voiced soldier, feeling his way + around a darkened room in the Amory home, leaped to Sidney's mind and + overwhelmed him with pity and self-reproach. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Miss Frances, will you forgive me? I hadn't quite got on to the + thing. I understand the game better now.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, I don't want to poison your mind. I shouldn't have said that—about + the flat feet, I mean. He goes to the Rectory, you know. I want to be fair—” + </p> + <p> + “Please don't worry. We know all about that sort at home,” said Sidney, + touching her hand for a moment. “My word, that was a hot one! The + flat-footed Johnnie is obviously bewildered. The last game was sheer + massacre, eh, what?” + </p> + <p> + If Maitland was not in form there was no sign of it in his work on the + court. There was little of courtesy, less of fun and nothing at all of + mercy in his play. From first to last and without reprieve he drove his + game ruthlessly to a finish. So terrific, so resistless were his attacks, + so coldly relentless the spirit he showed, ignoring utterly all attempts + at friendly exchange of courtesy, that the unhappy and enraged Stillwell, + becoming utterly demoralized, lost his nerve, lost his control and + hopelessly lost every chance he ever possessed of winning a single game of + the set which closed with the score six to nothing. + </p> + <p> + At the conclusion of the set Stillwell, with no pretense of explanation or + apology, left the courts to his enemy who stood waiting his appearance in + a silence so oppressive that it seemed to rest like a pall upon the side + lines. So overwhelming was Stillwell's defeat, so humiliating his + exhibition of total collapse of morale that the company received the + result with but slight manifestation of feeling. Without any show of + sympathy even his friends slipped away, as if unwilling to add to his + humiliation by their commiseration. On the other side, the congratulations + offered Maitland were for the most part lacking in the spontaneity that is + supposed to be proper to such a smashing victory. Some of his friends + seemed to feel as if they had been called upon to witness an unworthy + thing. Not so, however, with either Frances Amory or Sidney Templeton. + Both greeted Captain Jack with enthusiasm and warmth, openly and freely + rejoicing in his victory. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, Maitland, that was tremendous, appalling, eh, what?” + </p> + <p> + “I meant it to be so,” said Maitland grimly, “else I should not have + played with him.” + </p> + <p> + “It was coming to him,” said Frances. “I am simply completely delighted.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I give you a lift home, Frances?” said Maitland. “Let us get away. + You, too, Templeton,” he added to Sidney, who was lingering near the young + lady in obvious unwillingness to leave her side. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thanks! Sure you have room?” he said. “All right. You know my cousin + left me in your care.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed! Well, come along then, since our hero is so good. Really, I + am uplifted to quite an unusual height of glorious exultation.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't rub it in, Frank,” said Jack gloomily. “I made an ass of myself, I + know quite well.” + </p> + <p> + “What rot, Jack. Every one of your friends was tickled to death.” + </p> + <p> + “Adrien, for instance, eh?” said Jack with a bitter little laugh, taking + his place at the wheel. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Adrien!” replied Frances. “Well, you know Adrien! She is—just + Adrien.” + </p> + <p> + As he turned into the street there was a sound of rushing feet. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Captain Jack! Oh, Captain Jack! Wait for me! You have room, + haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + A whirlwind of flashing legs and windblown masses of gold-red hair, which + realised itself into a young girl of about sixteen, bore down on the car. + It was Adrien's younger sister, Patricia, and at once her pride and her + terror. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Patsy, where on earth did you come from? Of course! Get in! Glad to + have you, old chap.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Captain Jack, what a game! What a wonderful game! And Rupert has been + playing all summer and awfully well! And you have hardly played a game! I + was awfully pleased—” + </p> + <p> + “Were you? I'm not sure that I was,” replied Captain Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you WERE savage, you know. You looked as if you were in a fight.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I? That was very rotten of me, wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know exactly. But it was a wonderful game. Of course, one + doesn't play tennis like a fight, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “No! You are quite right, Pat,” replied Captain Jack. “You see, I'm afraid + I lost my temper a bit, which is horribly bad form I know, and—well, + I wanted to fight rather than play, and of course one couldn't fight on + the tennis court in the presence of a lot of ladies, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm glad you didn't fight, Captain Jack. You have had enough of + fighting, haven't you? And Rupert is really very nice, you know. He has a + wonderful car and he lets me drive it, and he always brings a box of + chocolates every time he comes.” + </p> + <p> + “He must be perfectly lovely,” said Captain Jack, with a grin at her. + </p> + <p> + The girl laughed a laugh of such infectious jollity that Captain Jack was + forced to join with her. + </p> + <p> + “That's one for you, Captain Jack,” she cried. “I know I am a pig where + chocs are concerned, and I do love to drive a car. But, really, Rupert is + quite nice. He is so funny. He makes Mamma laugh. Though he does tease me + a lot.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jack drove on in silence for some moments. + </p> + <p> + “I was glad to see you playing though to-day, Captain Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “Where were you? I didn't see you anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Not likely!” She glanced behind her at the others in the back seat. She + need not have given them a thought, they were too deeply engrossed to heed + her. “Do you know where I was? In the crutch of the big elm—you + know!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't I!” said Captain Jack. “A splendid seat, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't Adrien be shocked?” said the girl, with a deliciously + mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Or, at least, she would pretend to be. + Adrien thinks she must train me down a bit, you know. She says I have most + awful manners. She wants Mamma to send me over to England to her school. + But I don't want to go, you bet. Besides, I don't think Dad can afford it + so they can't send me. Anyway, I could have good manners if I wanted to. I + could act just like Adrien if I wanted to—I mean, for a while. But + that was a real game. I felt sorry for Rupert, a little. You see, he + didn't seem to know what to do or how to begin. And you looked so + terrible! Now in the game with Cousin Sidney you were so different, and + you played so awfully well, too, but differently. Somehow, it was just + like gentlemen playing, you know—” + </p> + <p> + “You have hit it, Patsy,—a regular bull!” said Captain Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mean—” began the girl in confusion, rare with her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you do, Pat. Stick to your guns.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will. The first game everybody loved to watch. The second game—somehow + it made me wish Rupert had been a Hun. I'd have loved it then.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, Patsy, you're right on the target. You've scored again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm not saying just what I want—but I hope you know what I + mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Your meaning hits me right in the eye. And you are quite right. The + tennis court is no place for a fight, eh? And, after all, Rupert Stillwell + is no Hun.” + </p> + <p> + “But you haven't been playing this summer at all, Captain Jack,” said the + girl, changing the subject. “Why not?” The girl's tone was quite severe. + “And you don't do a lot of things you used to do, and you don't go to + places, and you are different.” The blue eyes earnestly searched his face. + </p> + <p> + “Am I different?” he asked slowly. “Well, everybody is different. And + then, you know, I am busy. A business man has his hours and he must stick + to them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't believe you a bit. You don't need to be down at the mills all + the time. Look at Rupert. He doesn't need to be at his father's office.” + </p> + <p> + “Apparently not.” + </p> + <p> + “He gets off whenever he wants to.” + </p> + <p> + “Looks like it.” + </p> + <p> + “And why can't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, I am not Rupert,” said Captain Jack, grinning at her. + </p> + <p> + “Now you are horrible. Why don't you do as you used to do? You know you + could if you wanted to.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I suppose, if I wanted to,” said Captain Jack, suddenly grave. + </p> + <p> + “You don't want to,” said the girl, quick to catch his mood. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know, Patsy dear, things are different, and I suppose I am too. + I don't care much for a lot of things.” + </p> + <p> + “You just look as if you didn't care for anything or anybody sometimes, + Captain Jack,” said Patricia quietly. Then after a few moments she burst + forth: “Oh, don't you remember your hockey team? Oh! oh! oh! I used to sit + and just hold my heart from jumping. It nearly used to choke me when you + would tear down the ice with the puck.” + </p> + <p> + “That was long ago, Pat dear. I guess I was—ah—very young + then, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” nodded the girl. “I feel the same way—I was just a + kid then.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes,” said Captain Jack, with never a smile. “You were just—let's + see—twelve, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, twelve. And I felt just a kid.” + </p> + <p> + “And now?” Captain Jack's voice was quite grave. + </p> + <p> + “Now? Well, I am not exactly a kid. At least, not the same kind of kid. + And, as you say, a lot of things are different. I think I know how you + feel. I was like that, too—after—after—Herbert—” + The girl paused, with her lips quivering. “It was all different—so + different. Everything we used to do, I didn't feel like doing. And I + suppose that's the way with you, Captain Jack, with Andy—and then + your Mother, too.” She leaned close to him and put her hand timidly on his + arm. + </p> + <p> + Captain Jack, sitting up very straight and looking very grave, felt the + thrill of the timid touch run through his very heart. A rush of warm, + tender emotion such as he had not allowed himself for many months suddenly + surprised him, filling his eyes and choking his throat. Since his return + from the war he had without knowledge been yearning for just such an + understanding touch as this child with her womanly instinct had given him. + He withdrew one hand from the wheel and took the warm clinging fingers + tight in his and waited in silence till he was sure of himself. He drove + some blocks before he was quite master of his voice. Then, releasing the + fingers, he turned his face toward the girl. + </p> + <p> + “You are a real pal, aren't you, Patsy old girl?” he said with a very + bright smile at her. + </p> + <p> + “I want to be! Oh, I would love to be!” she said, with a swift intake of + breath. “And after a while you will be just as you were before you went + away.” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly, I fear, Patsy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, not the same, but different from what you are now. No, I don't mean + that a bit, Captain Jack. But perhaps you know—I do want to see you + on the ice again. Oh, it would be wonderful! Of course, the old team + wouldn't be there—Herbert and Phil and Andy. Why! You are the only + one left! And Rupert.” She added the name doubtfully. “It WOULD be + different! oh, so different! Oh! I don't wonder you don't care, Captain + Jack. I won't wonder—” There was a little choke in the young voice. + “I see it now—” + </p> + <p> + “I think you understand, Patsy, and you are a little brick,” said Captain + Jack in a low, hurried tone. “And I am going to try. Anyway, whatever + happens, we will be pals.” + </p> + <p> + The girl caught his arm tight in her clasped hands and in a low voice she + said, “Always and always, Captain Jack, and evermore.” And till they drew + up at the Rectory door no more was said. + </p> + <p> + Maitland drove homeward through the mellow autumn evening with a warmer, + kindlier glow in his heart than he had known through all the dreary weeks + that had followed his return from the war. For the war had wrought + desolation for him in a home once rich in the things that make life worth + while, by taking from it his mother, whose rare soul qualities had won and + held through her life the love, the passionate, adoring love of her sons, + and his twin brother, the comrade, chum, friend of all his days, with + whose life his own had grown into a complete and ideal unity, deprived of + whom his life was left like a body from whose raw and quivering flesh + one-half had been torn away. + </p> + <p> + The war had left his life otherwise bruised and maimed in ways known only + to himself. + </p> + <p> + Returning thus from his soul-devastating experience of war to find his + life desolate and maimed in all that gave it value, he made the appalling + discovery that he was left almost alone of all whom he had known and loved + in past days. For of his close friends none were left as before. For the + most part they were lying on one or other of the five battle fronts of the + war. Others had found service in other spheres. Only one was still in his + home town, poor old Phil Amory, Frances' brother, half-blind in his + darkened room, but to bring anything of his own heart burden to that brave + soul seemed sacrilege or worse. True enough, he was passing through the + new and thrilling experience of making acquaintance with his father. But + old Grant Maitland was a hard man to know, and they were too much alike in + their reserve and in their poverty of self-expression to make mutual + acquaintance anything but a slow and in some ways a painful process. + </p> + <p> + Hence in Maitland's heart there was an almost extravagant gratitude toward + this young generous-hearted girl whose touch had thrilled his heart and + whose voice with its passionate note of loyal and understanding + comradeship still sang like music in his soul, “Always and always, Captain + Jack, and evermore.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, I have got to find some way of playing up to that,” he said + aloud, as he turned from the gravelled driveway into the street. And in + the months that followed he was to find that the search to which he then + committed himself was to call for the utmost of the powers of soul which + were his. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + THE COST OF SACRIFICE + </h3> + <p> + Perrotte was by all odds the best all-round man in the planing mill, and + for the simple reason that for fifteen years he had followed the lumber + from the raw wood through the various machines till he knew woods and + machines and their ways as no other in the mill unless it was old Grant + Maitland himself. Fifteen years ago Perrotte had drifted down from the + woods, beating his way on a lumber train, having left his winter's pay + behind him at the verge of civilisation, with old Joe Barbeau and Joe's + “chucker out.” It was the “chucker out” that dragged him out of the “snake + room” and, all unwitting, had given him a flying start toward a better + life. Perrotte came to Maitland when the season's work was at its height + and every saw and planer were roaring night and day. + </p> + <p> + “Want a job?” Maitland had shouted over the tearing saw at him. “What can + you do?” + </p> + <p> + “(H)axe-man me,” growled Perrotte, looking up at him, half wistful, half + sullen. + </p> + <p> + “See that slab? Grab it, pile it yonder. The boards, slide over the + shoot.” For these were still primitive days for labor-saving devices, and + men were still the cheapest thing about a mill. + </p> + <p> + Perrotte grabbed the slab, heaved it down to its pile of waste, the next + board he slid into the shoot, and so continued till noon found him pale + and staggering. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you?” said Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “Notting—me bon,” said Perrotte, and, clutching at the door jamb, + hung there gasping. + </p> + <p> + Maitland's keen blue eyes searched his face. “Huh! When did you last eat? + Come! No lying!” + </p> + <p> + “Two day,” said Perrotte, fighting for breath and nerve. + </p> + <p> + “Here, boy,” shouted Maitland to a chore lad slouching by, “jump for that + cook house and fetch a cup of coffee, and be quick.” + </p> + <p> + The boss' tone injected energy into the gawky lad. In three minutes + Perrotte was seated on a pile of slabs, drinking a cup of coffee; in five + minutes more he stood up, ready for “(h)anny man, (h)anny ting.” But + Maitland took him to the cook. + </p> + <p> + “Fill this man up,” he said, “and then show him where to sleep. And, + Perrotte, to-morrow morning at seven you be at the tail of the saw.” + </p> + <p> + “Oui, by gar! Perrotte be dere. And you got one good man TOO-day, for + sure.” + </p> + <p> + That was fifteen years ago, and, barring certain “jubilations,” Perrotte + made good his prophecy. He brought up from the Ottawa his Irish wife, a + clever woman with her tongue but a housekeeper that scandalised her + thrifty, tidy, French-Canadian mother-in-law, and his two children, a boy + and a girl. Under the supervision of his boss he made for his family a + home and for himself an assured place in the Blackwater Mills. His + children fell into the hands of a teacher with a true vocation for his + great work and a passion for young life. Under his hand the youth of the + rapidly growing mill village were saved from the sordid and soul-debasing + influences of their environment, were led out of the muddy streets and + can-strewn back yards to those far heights where dwell the high gods of + poesy and romance. From the master, too, they learned to know their own + wonderful woods out of which the near-by farms had been hewn. Many a home, + too, owed its bookshelf to Alex Day's unobtrusive suggestions. + </p> + <p> + The Perrotte children were prepared for High School by the master's quiet + but determined persistence. To the father he held up the utilitarian + advantages of an education. + </p> + <p> + “Your boy is quick—why should not Tony be a master of men some day? + Give him a chance to climb.” + </p> + <p> + “Oui, by gar! Antoine he's smart lee'le feller. I mak him steeck on his + book, you mak him one big boss on some mill.” + </p> + <p> + To the mother the master spoke of social advantages. The empty-headed + Irish woman who had all the quick wit and cleverness of tongue + characteristic of her race was determined that her girl Annette should + learn to be as stylish as “them that tho't themselves her betters.” So the + children were kept at school by their fondly ambitious parents, and the + master did the rest. + </p> + <p> + At the Public School, that greatest of all democratic institutions, the + Perrotte children met the town youth of their own age, giving and taking + on equal terms, sharing common privileges and advantages and growing into + a community solidarity all their own, which in later years brought its own + harvest of mingling joy and bitterness, but which on the whole made for + sound manhood and womanhood. + </p> + <p> + With the girl Annette one effect of the Public School and its influences, + educational and social, was to reveal to her the depth of the educational + and social pit from which she had been taken. Her High School training + might have fitted her for the teaching profession and completed her social + emancipation but for her vain and thriftless mother, who, socially + ambitious for herself but more for her handsome, clever children, found + herself increasingly embarrassed for funds. She lacked the means with + which to suitably adorn herself and her children for the station in life + to which she aspired and for which good clothes were the prime equipment + and to “eddicate” Tony as he deserved. Hence when Annette had completed + her second year at the High School her mother withdrew her from the school + and its associations and found her a place in the new Fancy Box Factory, + where girls could obtain “an illigant and refoined job with good pay as + well.” + </p> + <p> + This change in Annette's outlook brought wrathful disappointment to the + head master, Alex Day, who had taken a very special pride in Annette's + brilliant school career and who had outlined for her a University course. + To Annette herself the ending of her school days was a bitter grief, the + bitterness of which would have been greatly intensified had she been able + to measure the magnitude of the change to be wrought in her life by her + mother's foolish vanity and unwise preference of her son's to her + daughter's future. + </p> + <p> + The determining factor in Annette's submission to her mother's will was + consideration for her brother and his career. For while for her father she + cherished an affectionate pride and for her mother an amused and + protective pity, her great passion was for her brother—her handsome, + vivacious, audacious and mercurial brother, Tony. With him she counted it + only joy to share her all too meagre wages whenever he found himself in + financial straits. And a not infrequent situation this was with Tony, who, + while he seemed to have inherited from his mother the vivacity, quick wit + and general empty-headedness, from his father got nothing of the thrift + and patient endurance of grinding toil characteristic of the + French-Canadian habitant. But he did get from his father a capacity for + the knowing and handling of machinery, which amounted almost to genius. Of + the father's steadiness under the grind of daily work which had made him + the head mechanic in the Mill, Tony possessed not a tittle. What he could + get easily he got, and getting this fancied himself richly endowed, + knowing not how slight and superficial is the equipment for life's stern + fight that comes without sweat of brain and body. His cleverness deceived + first himself and then his family, who united in believing him to be + destined for high place and great things. Only two of those who had to do + with him in his boyhood weighed him in the balance of truth. One was his + Public School master, who labored with incessant and painful care to + awaken in him some glimmer of the need of preparation for that bitter + fight to which every man is appointed. The other was Grant Maitland, whose + knowledge of men and of life, gained at cost of desperate conflict, made + the youth's soul an open book to him. Recognising the boy's aptitude, he + had in holiday seasons set Tony behind the machines in his planing mill, + determined for his father's sake to make of him a mechanical engineer. To + Tony each new machine was a toy to be played with; in a week or two he had + mastered it and grown weary of it. Thenceforth he slacked at his work and + became a demoralizing influence in his department, a source of anxiety to + his steady-going father, a plague to his employer, till the holiday time + was done. + </p> + <p> + “Were you my son, my lad, I'd soon settle you,” Grant Maitland would say, + when the boy was ready to go back to his school. “You will make a mess of + your life unless you can learn to stick at your job. The roads are full of + clever tramps, remember that, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + But Tony only smiled his brilliant smile at him, as he took his pay + envelope, which burned a hole in his pocket till he had done with it. When + the next holiday came round Tony would present himself for a job with Jack + Maitland to plead for him. For to Tony Jack was as king, to whom he gave + passionate loyalty without stint or measure. And thus for his son Jack's + sake, Jack's father took Tony on again, resolved to make another effort to + make something out of him. + </p> + <p> + The bond between the two boys was hard to analyse. In games at Public and + High School Jack was always Captain and Tony his right-hand man, held to + his place and his training partly by his admiring devotion to his Captain + but more by a wholesome dread of the inexorable disciplinary measures + which slackness or trifling with the rules of the game would inevitably + bring him. Jack Maitland was the one being in Tony's world who could put + lasting fear into his soul or steadiness into his practice. But even Jack + at times failed. + </p> + <p> + Then when both were eighteen they went to the War, Jack as an Officer, + Tony as a Non-Commissioned Officer in the same Battalion, Jack hating the + bloody business but resolute to play this great game of duty as he played + all games for all that was in him, Tony aglow at first with the movement + and glitter and later mad with the lust for deadly daring that was native + to his Keltic Gallic soul. They returned with their respective decorations + of D. S. O. and Military Medal and each with the stamp of war cut deep + upon him, in keeping with the quality of his soul. + </p> + <p> + The return to peace was to them, as to the thousands of their comrades to + whom it was given to return, a shock almost as great as had been the + adventure of war. In a single day while still amid the scenes and with all + the paraphernalia of war about them an unreal and bewildering silence had + fallen on them. Like men in the unearthly realities of a dream they moved + through their routine duties, waiting for the orders that would bring that + well-known, sickening, savage tightening of their courage and send them, + laden like beasts of burden, up once more to that hell of blood and mud, + of nerve-shattering shell, of blinding glare and ear-bursting roar of gun + fire, and, worse than all, to the place where, crouching in the farcical + deceptive shelter of the sandbagged trench, their fingers gripping into + the steel of their rifle hands, they would wait for the zero hour. But as + the weeks passed and the orders failed to come they passed from that + bewildering and subconscious anxious waiting, to an experience of wildly + exultant, hysterical abandonment. They were done with all that long horror + and terror; they were never to go back into it again; they were going back + home; the New Day had dawned; war was no more, nor ever would be again. + Back to home, to waiting hearts, to shining eyes, to welcoming arms, to + peace, they were going. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter, when some weeks of peace had passed and the drums of peace had + fallen quiet and the rushing, crowding, hurrahing people had melted away, + and the streets and roads were filled again with men and women bent on + business, with engagements to keep, the returned men found themselves with + dazed, listless mind waiting for orders from someone, somewhere, or for + the next movie show to open. But they were unwilling to take on the + humdrum of making a living, and were in most cases incapable of initiating + a congenial method of employing their powers, their new-found, splendid, + glorious powers, by means of which they had saved an empire and a world. + They had become common men again, they in whose souls but a few weeks ago + had flamed the glory and splendour of a divine heroism! + </p> + <p> + Small wonder that some of these men, tingling with the consciousness of + powers of which these busy, engaged people of the streets and shops knew + nothing, turned with disdain from the petty, paltry, many of them + non-manly tasks that men pursued solely that they might live. Live! For + these last terrible, great and glorious fifty months they had schooled + themselves to the notion that the main business of life was not to live. + There had been for them a thing to do infinitely more worth while than to + live. Indeed, had they been determined at all costs to live, then they had + become to themselves, to their comrades, and indeed to all the world, the + most despicable of all living things, deserving and winning the infinite + contempt of all true men. + </p> + <p> + While the “gratuity money” lasted life went merrily enough, but when the + last cheque had been cashed, and the grim reality that rations had ceased + and Q. M. Stores were not longer available thrust itself vividly into the + face of the demobilised veteran, and when after experiencing in job + hunting varying degrees of humiliation the same veteran made the startling + and painful discovery that for his wares of heroic self-immolation, of + dogged endurance done up in khaki, there was no demand in the bloodless + but none the less strenuous conflict of living; and that other discovery, + more disconcerting, that he was not the man he had been in pre-war days + and thought himself still to be, but quite another, then he was ready for + one of two alternatives, to surrender to the inevitable dictum that after + all life was really not worth a fight, more particularly if it could be + sustained without one, or, to fling his hat into the Bolshevist ring, + ready for the old thing, war—war against the enemies of civilisation + and his own enemies, against those who possessed things which he very much + desired but which for some inexplicable cause he was prevented from + obtaining. + </p> + <p> + The former class, to a greater or less degree, Jack Maitland represented; + the latter, Tony Perrotte. From their war experience they were now knit + together in bonds that ran into life issues. Together they had faced war's + ultimate horror, together they had emerged with imperishable memories of + sheer heroic manhood mutually revealed in hours of desperate need. + </p> + <p> + At Jack's request Tony had been given the position of a Junior Foreman in + one of the planing mill departments, with the promise of advancement. + </p> + <p> + “You can have anything you are fit for, Tony, in any of the mills. I feel + that I owe you, that we both owe you more than we can pay by any position + we can offer,” was Grant Maitland's word. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Maitland, neither you nor Jack owes me anything. Jack has paid, and + more than once, all he owed me. But,” with a rueful smile, “don't expect + too much from me in this job. I can't see myself making it go.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it a big try. Do your best. I ask no more,” said Mr. Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “My best? That's a hard thing. Give me a bayonet and set some Huns before + me, and I'll do my best. This is different somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “Different, yet the same. The same qualities make for success. You have + the brains and with your gift for machinery—Well, try it. You and + Jack here will make this go between you, as you made the other go.” + </p> + <p> + The door closed on the young man. + </p> + <p> + “Will he make good, Jack?” said the father, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Will any of us make good?” + </p> + <p> + “You will, Jack, I know. You can stick.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I can stick, I suppose, but, after all—well, we'll have a go + at it, anyway. But, like Tony, I feel like saying, 'Don't expect too + much.'” + </p> + <p> + “Only your best, Jack, that's all. Take three months, six months, a year, + and get hold of the office end of the business. You have brains enough. I + want a General Manager right now, Wickes is hardly up to it. He knows the + books and he knows the works but he knows nothing else. He doesn't know + men nor markets. He is an office man pure and simple, and he's old, too + old. The fact is, Jack, I have to be my own Manager inside and outside. My + foremen are good, loyal, reliable fellows, but they only know their + orders. I want someone to stand beside me. The plant has been doubled in + capacity during the war. We did a lot of war work—aeroplane parts. + We got the spruce in the raw and worked it up, good work, too, if I do say + it myself. No better was done.” + </p> + <p> + “I know something about that, Dad. I had a day with Badgley in Toronto. I + know something about it, and I know where the money went, too, Dad.” + </p> + <p> + “The money? Of course, I couldn't take the money—how could I with my + boys at the war, and other men's boys?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather not. My God, Dad, if I thought—! But what's the use talking? + They know in London all about the Ambulance Equipment and the Machine Gun + Battery, and the Hospital. Do you know why Caramus took a job in the + Permanent Force in England? It was either that or blowing out his brains. + He could not face his father, a war millionaire. My God, how could he?” + </p> + <p> + The boy was walking about his room with face white and lips quivering. + </p> + <p> + “Caramus was in charge of that Machine Gun Section that held the line and + let us get back. Every man wiped out, and Caramus carried back smashed to + small pieces—and his father making a million out of munitions! My + God! My God!” + </p> + <p> + A silence fell in the room for a minute. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Caramus! I saw him in the City a month ago,” said the father. “I + pitied the poor wretch. He was alone in the Club, not a soul would speak + to him. He has got his hell.” + </p> + <p> + “He deserves it—all of it, and all who like him have got fat on + blood money. Do you know, Dad, when I see those men going about in the + open and no one kicking them I get fairly sick. I don't wonder at some of + the boys seeing red. You mark my words, we are going to have bad times in + this country before long.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid of it, boy. Things look ugly. Even in our own works I feel a + bad spirit about. There are some newcomers from the old country whom I + can't say I admire much. They grouch and they won't work. Our production + is lower than ever in our history and our labor cost is more than twice + what it was in 1914.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Dad, give them a little time to settle down. I have no more use for + a slacker than I have for a war millionaire.” + </p> + <p> + “We can't stand much of that thing. Financially we are in fairly good + shape. We broke even with our aeroplane work. But we have a big stock of + spruce on hand—high-priced stuff, too—and a heavy, very heavy + overhead. We shall weather it all right. I don't mind the wages, but we + must have production. And that's why I want you with me.” + </p> + <p> + “You must not depend on me for much use for some time at least. I know a + little about handling men but about machinery I know nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Never fear, boy, you've got the machine instinct in you. I remember your + holiday work in the mill, you see. But your place is in the office. Wickes + will show you the ropes, and you will make good, I know. And I just want + to say that you don't know how glad I am to have you come in with me, + Jack. If your brother had come back he would have taken hold, he was cut + out for the job, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Andy! He had your genius for the business. I wish he had been + the one to get back!” + </p> + <p> + “We had not the choosing, Jack, and if he had come we should have felt the + same about you. God knows what He is doing, and we can only do our best.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Dad,” said Jack, rising and standing near his father's chair, “as I + said before, I'll make a go at it, but don't count too much on me.” + </p> + <p> + “I am counting a lot on you. You are all I have now.” The father's voice + ended in a husky whisper. The boy swallowed the rising lump in his throat + but could find no more words to go on with. But in his heart there was the + resolve that he would make an honest try to do for his father's sake what + he would not for his own. + </p> + <p> + But before a month had gone he was heartily sick of the office. It was + indoors, and the petty fussing with trivial details irked him. Accuracy + was a sine qua non of successful office work, and accuracy is either a + thing of natural gift or is the result of long and painful discipline, and + neither by nature nor by discipline had Jack come into the possession of + this prime qualification for a successful office man. His ledger wellnigh + brought tears to old Wickes' eyes and added a heavy load to his day's + work. Not that old Wickes grudged the extra burden, much less made any + complaint; rather did he count it joy to be able to cover from other eyes + than his own the errors that were inevitably to be found in Jack's daily + work. + </p> + <p> + Had it seemed worth while, Jack would have disciplined himself to + accuracy. But what was the end of it all? A larger plant with more + machines to buy and more men to work them and to be overseen and to be + paid, a few more figures in a Bank Book—what else? Jack's tastes + were simple. He despised the ostentation of wealth in the accumulation of + mere things. He had only pity for the plunger and for the loose liver + contempt. Why should he tie himself to a desk, a well appointed desk it is + true, but still a desk, in a four-walled room, a much finer room than his + father had ever known, but a room which became to him a cage. Why? Of + course, there was his father—and Jack wearily turned to his + correspondence basket, sick of the sight of paper and letter heads and + cost forms and production reports. For his father's sake, who had only + him, he would carry on. And carry on he did, doggedly, wearily, bored to + death, but sticking it. The reports from the works were often ominous. + Things were not going well. There was an undercurrent of unrest among the + men. + </p> + <p> + “I don't wonder at it,” said Jack to old Wickes one day, when the + bookkeeper set before him the week's pay sheet and production sheet, side + by side. “After all, why should the poor devils work for us?” + </p> + <p> + “For us, sir?” said the shocked Wickes. “For themselves, surely. What + would they do for a living if there was no work?” + </p> + <p> + “That's just it, Wickes. They get a living—is it worth while?” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir,” gasped the old man, “they must live, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Why must they?” + </p> + <p> + “Because they want to! Wait till you see 'em sick, sir. My word! They do + make haste for the Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “I fancy they do, Wickes. But all the same, I don't wonder that they + grouch a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis not the grumbling, sir, I deplore,” said Wickes, “if they would only + work, or let the machines work. That's the trouble, sir. Why, sir, when I + came to your father, sir, we never looked at the clock, we kept our minds + on the work.” + </p> + <p> + “How long ago, Wickes?” + </p> + <p> + “Thirty-one years, sir, come next Michaelmas. And glad I was to get the + job, too. You see, sir, I had just come to the country, and with the + missus and a couple of kids—” + </p> + <p> + “Thirty-one years! Great Caesar! And you've worked at this desk for + thirty-one years! And what have you got out of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, not what you might call a terrible lot. I hadn't the + eddication for much, as you might say—but—well, there's my + little home, and we've lived happy there, the missus and me, and the kids—at + least, till the war came.” The old man paused abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “You're right, Wickes, by Jove,” exclaimed Jack, starting from his seat + and gripping the old man's hand. “You have made a lot out of it—and + you gave as fine a boy as ever stepped in uniform to your country. We were + all proud of Stephen, every man of us.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, sir, and he often wrote the wife about you, sir, which we + don't forget, sir. Of course, it's hard on her and the boys—just + coming up to be somethin' at the school.” + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Wickes, how are they doing? Two of them, aren't there? Let's + see—there's Steve, he's the eldest—” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, he's the youngest, sir. Robert is the eldest—fourteen, and + quite clever at his books. Pity he's got to quit just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Quit? Not a bit of it. We must see to that. And little Steve—how is + the back?” + </p> + <p> + “He's twelve. The back hurts a lot, but he is happy enough, if you give + him a pencil. They're all with us now.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well, well. I think you have made something out of it after all, + Wickes. And we must see about Robert.” + </p> + <p> + Thirty-one years at the desk! And to show for it a home for his wife and + himself, a daughter in a home of her own, a son dead for his country, + leaving behind him a wife and two lads to carry the name—was it + worth while? Yes, by Jove, it was worth it all to be able to give a man + like Stephen Wickes to his country. For Stephen Wickes was a fine stalwart + lad, a good soldier, steady as a rock, with a patient, cheery courage that + nothing could daunt or break. But for a man's self was it worth while? + </p> + <p> + Jack had no thought of wife and family. There was Adrien. She had been a + great pal before the war, but since his return she had seemed different. + Everyone seemed different. The war had left many gaps, former pals had + formed other ties, many had gone from the town. Even Adrien had drifted + away from the old currents of life. She seemed to have taken up with young + Stillwell, whom Jack couldn't abide. Stillwell had been turned down by the + Recruiting Officer during the war—flat feet, or something. True, he + had done great service in Red Cross, Patriotic Fund, Victory Loan work, + and that sort of thing, and apparently stood high in the Community. His + father had doubled the size of his store and had been a great force in all + public war work. He had spared neither himself nor his son. The elder + Stillwell, high up in the Provincial Political world, saw to it that his + son was on all the big Provincial War Committees. Rupert had all the + shrewd foresight and business ability of his father, which was saying a + good deal. He began to assume the role of a promising young capitalist. + The sources of his income no one knew—fortunate investments, people + said. And his Hudson Six stood at the Rectory gate every day. Well, not + even for Adrien would Jack have changed places with Rupert Stillwell. For + Jack Maitland held the extreme and, in certain circles, unpopular creed + that the citizen who came richer out of a war which had left his country + submerged in debt, and which had drained away its best blood and left it + poorer in its manhood by well-nigh seventy thousand of its noblest youth + left upon the battlefields of the various war fronts and by the hundreds + of thousands who would go through life a burden to themselves and to those + to whom they should have been a support—that citizen was accursed. + If Adrien chose to be a friend of such a man, by that choice she + classified herself as impossible of friendship for Jack. It had hurt a + bit. But what was one hurt more or less to one whom the war had left numb + in heart and bereft of ambition? He was not going to pity himself. He was + lucky indeed to have his body and nerve still sound and whole, but they + need not expect him to show any great keenness in the chase for a few more + thousands that would only rank him among those for whom the war had not + done so badly. Meantime, for his father's sake, who, thank God, had given + his best, his heart's best and the best of his brain and of his splendid + business genius to his country, he would carry on, with no other reward + than that of service rendered. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + THE HEATHEN QUEST + </h3> + <p> + They stood together by the open fire in the study, Jack and his father, + alike in many ways yet producing effects very different. The younger man + had the physical makeup of the older, though of a slighter mould. They had + the same high, proud look of conscious strength, of cool fearlessness that + nothing could fluster. But the soul that looked out of the grey eyes of + the son was quite another from that which looked out of the deep blue eyes + of the father—yet, after all, the difference may not have been in + essence but only that the older man's soul had learned in life's + experience to look out only through a veil. + </p> + <p> + The soul of the youth was eager, adventurous, still believing, yet with a + certain questioning and a touch of weariness, a result of the aftermath of + peace following three years of war. There was still, however, the + out-looking for far horizons, the outreaching imagination, the Heaven + given expectation of the Infinite. In the older man's eye dwelt chiefly + reserve. The veil was always there except when he found it wise and useful + to draw it aside. If ever the inner light flamed forth it was when the man + so chose. Self-mastery, shrewdness, power, knowledge, lay in the dark blue + eyes, and all at the soul's command. + </p> + <p> + But to-night as the father's eyes rested upon his son who stood gazing + into and through the blazing fire there were to be seen only pride and + wistful love. But as the son turned his eyes toward his father the veil + fell and the eyes that answered were quiet, shrewd, keen and chiefly kind. + </p> + <p> + The talk had passed beyond the commonplace of the day's doings. They were + among the big things, the fateful thing—Life and Its Worth, Work and + Its Wages, Creative Industry and Its Product, Capital and Its Price, Man + and His Rights. + </p> + <p> + They were frank with each other. The war had done that for them. For ever + since the night when his eighteen-year-old boy had walked into his den and + said, “Father, I am eighteen,” and stood looking into his eyes and waiting + for the word that came straight and unhesitating, “I know, boy, you are my + son and you must go, for I cannot,” ever since that night, which seemed + now to belong to another age, these two had faced each other as men. Now + they were talking about the young man's life work. + </p> + <p> + “Frankly, I don't like it, Dad,” said the son. + </p> + <p> + “Easy to see that, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm really sorry. I'm afraid anyone can see it. But somehow I can't put + much pep into it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked the father, with curt abruptness. + </p> + <p> + “Why? Well, I hardly know. Somehow it hardly seems worth while. It is not + the grind of the office, though that is considerable. I could stick that, + but, after all, what's the use?” + </p> + <p> + “What would you rather do, Jack?” enquired his father patiently, as if + talking to a child. “You tried for the medical profession, you know, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know, you are quite right about it. You may think it pure + laziness. Maybe it is, but I hardly think so. Perhaps I went back to + lectures too soon after the war. I was hardly fit, I guess, and the whole + thing, the inside life, the infernal grind of lectures, the idiotic + serious mummery of the youngsters, those blessed kids who should have been + spanked by their mothers—the whole thing sickened me in three + months. If I had waited perhaps I might have done better at the thing. I + don't know—hard to tell.” The boy paused, looking into the fire. + </p> + <p> + “It was my fault, boy,” said the father hastily. “I ought to have figured + the thing out differently. But, you see, I had no knowledge of what you + had gone through and of its effect upon you. I know better now. I thought + that the harder you went into the work the better it would be for you. I + made a mistake.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you couldn't tell, Dad. How could you? But everything was so + different when I came back. Mere kids were carrying on where we had been, + and doing it well, too, by Jove, and we didn't seem to be needed.” + </p> + <p> + “Needed, boy?” The father's voice was thick. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I didn't see that then. Selfish, I fear. Then, you know, home + was not the same—” + </p> + <p> + The older man choked back a groan and leaned hard against the mantel. + </p> + <p> + “I know, Dad, I can see now I was selfish—” + </p> + <p> + “Selfish? Don't say that, my lad. Selfish? After all you had gone through? + No, I shall never apply that word to you, but you—you don't seem to + realise—” The father hesitated a few moments, then, as if taking a + plunge: + </p> + <p> + “You don't realise just how big a thing—how big an investment there + is in that business down there—.” His hand swept toward the window + through which could be seen the lights of that part of the town which + clustered about the various mills and factories of which he was owner. + </p> + <p> + “I know there is a lot, Dad, but how much I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “There's $250,000 in plant alone, boy, but there's more than money, a lot + more than money—” Then, after a pause, as if to himself, “A lot more + than money—there's brain sweat and heart agony and prayers and tears—and, + yes, life, boy, your mother's life and mine. We worked and saved and + prayed and planned—” + </p> + <p> + He stepped quickly toward the window, drew aside the curtain and pointed + to a dark mass of headland beyond the twinkling lights. + </p> + <p> + “You see the Bluff there. Fifty years ago I stood with my father on that + Bluff and watched the logs come down the river to the sawmill—his + sawmill, into which he had put his total capital, five hundred dollars. I + remember well his words, 'My son, if you live out your life you will see + on that flat a town where thousands of men and women will find homes and, + please God, happiness.' Your mother and I watched that town grow for forty + years, and we tried to make people happy—at least, if they were not + it was no fault of hers. Of course, other hands have been at the work + since then, but her hands and mine more than any other, and more than all + others together were in it, and her heart, too, was in it all.” + </p> + <p> + The boy turned from the window and sat down heavily in a deep armchair, + his hands covering his face. His heart was still sick with the ache that + had smitten it that day in front of Amiens when the Colonel, his father's + friend, had sent for him and read him the wire which had brought the + terrible message of his mother's death. The long months of days and nights + heavy with watching, toiling, praying, agonising, for her twin sons, and + for the many boys who had gone out from the little town wore out her none + too robust strength. Then, the sniper's bullet that had pierced the heart + of her boy seemed to reach to her heart as well. After that, the home that + once had been to its dwellers the most completely heart-satisfying spot in + all the world became a place of dread, of haunting ghosts, of acutely + poignant memories. They used the house for sleeping in and for eating in, + but there was no living in it longer. To them it was a tomb, though + neither would acknowledge it and each bore with it for the other's sake. + </p> + <p> + “Honestly, Dad, I wish I could make it go, for your sake—” + </p> + <p> + “For my sake, boy? Why, I have all of it I care for. Not for my sake. But + what else can we do but stick it?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so—but for Heaven's sake give me something worth a man's + doing. If I could tackle a job such as you and”—the boy winced—“you + and mother took on I believe I'd try it. But that office! Any fool could + sit in my place and carry on. It is like the job they used to give to the + crocks or the slackers at the base to do. Give me a man's job.” + </p> + <p> + The father's keen blue eyes looked his son over. + </p> + <p> + “A man's job?” he said, with a grim smile, realising as his son did not + how much of a man's job it was. “Suppose you learn this one as I did?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Dad, exactly? How did you begin?” + </p> + <p> + “I? At the tail of the saw.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I'm game.” + </p> + <p> + “Boy, you are right—I believe in my soul you are right. You did a + man's job 'out there' and you have it in you to do a man's job again.” + </p> + <p> + The son shrugged his shoulders. Next morning at seven they were down at + the planing mill where men were doing men's work. He was at a man's job, + at the tail of a saw, and drawing a man's pay, rubbing shoulders with men + on equal terms, as he had in the trenches. And for the first time since + Armistice Day, if not happy or satisfied, he was content to carry on. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + ANNETTE + </h3> + <p> + Sam Wigglesworth had finished with school, which is not quite the same as + saying that he had finished his education. A number of causes had combined + to bring this event to pass. First, Sam was beyond the age of compulsory + attendance at the Public School, the School Register recording him as + sixteen years old. Then, Sam's educational career had been anything but + brilliant. Indeed, it might fairly be described as dull. All his life he + had been behind his class, the biggest boy in his class, which fact might + have been to Sam a constant cause of humiliation had he not held as of the + slightest moment merely academic achievements. One unpleasant effect which + this fact had upon Sam's moral quality was that it tended to make him a + bully. He was physically the superior of all in his class, and this + superiority he exerted for what he deemed the discipline of younger and + weaker boys, who excelled him in intellectual attainment. + </p> + <p> + Furthermore, Sam, while quite ready to enforce the code of discipline + which he considered suitable to the smaller and weaker boys in his class, + resented and resisted the attempts of constituted authority to enforce + discipline in his own case, with the result that Sam's educational career + was, after much long suffering, abruptly terminated by the action of the + long-suffering head, Alex Day. + </p> + <p> + “With great regret I must report,” his letter to the School Board ran, + “that in the case of Samuel Wigglesworth I have somehow failed to + inculcate the elementary principles of obedience to school regulations and + of adherence to truth in speech. I am free to acknowledge,” went on the + letter, “that the defect may be in myself as much as in the boy, but + having failed in winning him to obedience and truth-telling, I feel that + while I remain master of the school I must decline to allow the influence + of this youth to continue in the school. A whole-hearted penitence for his + many offences and an earnest purpose to reform would induce me to give him + a further trial. In the absence of either penitence or purpose to reform I + must regretfully advise expulsion.” + </p> + <p> + Joyfully the School Board, who had for months urged upon the reluctant + head this action, acquiesced in the course suggested, and Samuel was + forthwith expelled, to his own unmitigated relief but to his father's red + and raging indignation at what he termed the “(h)ignorant persecution of + their betters by these (h)insolent Colonials,” for “'is son 'ad 'ad the + advantages of schools of the 'ighest standin' in (H)England.” + </p> + <p> + Being expelled from school Sam forthwith was brought by his father to the + office of the mills, where he himself was employed. There he introduced + his son to the notice of Mr. Grant Maitland, with request for employment. + </p> + <p> + The old man looked the boy over. + </p> + <p> + “What has he been doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin'. 'E's just left school.” + </p> + <p> + “High School?” + </p> + <p> + “Naw. Public School.” Wigglesworth Sr.'s tone indicated no exalted opinion + of the Public School. + </p> + <p> + “Public School! What grade, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Grade? I dinnaw. Wot grade, Samuel? Come, speak (h)up, cawn't yeh?” + </p> + <p> + “Uh?” Sam's mental faculties had been occupied in observing the activities + and guessing the probable fate of a lumber-jack gaily decked in scarlet + sash and blue overalls, who was the central figure upon a flaming calendar + tacked up behind Mr. Maitland's desk, setting forth the commercial + advantages of trading with the Departmental Stores of Stillwell & Son. + </p> + <p> + “Wot grade in school, the boss is (h)askin',” said his father sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Grade?” enquired Sam, returning to the commonplace of the moment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, what grade in the Public School were you in when you left?” The blue + eyes of the boss was “borin' 'oles” through Sam and the voice pierced like + a “bleedin' gimblet,” as Wigglesworth, Sr., reported to his spouse that + afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Sam hesitated a bare second. “Fourth grade it was,” he said with sullen + reluctance. + </p> + <p> + “'Adn't no chance, Samuel 'adn't. Been a delicate child ever since 'is + mother stopped suckin' 'im,” explained the father with a sympathetic shake + of his head. + </p> + <p> + The cold blue eye appraised the boy's hulking mass. + </p> + <p> + “'E don't look it,” continued Mr. Wigglesworth, noting the keen glance, + “but 'e's never been (h)able to bide steady at the school. (H)It's 'is + brain, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “His—ah—brain?” Again the blue eyes appraised the boy, this + time scanning critically his face for indication of undue brain activity. + </p> + <p> + “'Is brain, sir,” earnestly reiterated the sympathetic parent. “'Watch + that (h)infant's brain,' sez the Doctor to the missus when she put 'im on + the bottle. And you know, we 'ave real doctors in (H)England, sir. 'Watch + 'is brain,' sez 'e, and, my word, the care 'is ma 'as took of that boy's + brain is wunnerful, is fair beautiful, sir.” Mr. Wigglesworth's voice grew + tremulous at the remembrance of that maternal solicitude. + </p> + <p> + “And was that why he left school?” enquired the boss. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, not (h)exackly,” said Mr. Wigglesworth, momentarily taken + aback, “though w'en I comes to think on it that must a been at the bottom + of it. You see, w'en Samuel went at 'is books of a night 'e'd no more than + begin at a sum an' 'e'd say to 'is ma, 'My brain's a-whirlin', ma', just + like that, and 'is ma would 'ave to pull 'is book away, just drag it away, + you might say. Oh, 'e's 'ad a 'ard time, 'as Samuel.” At this point the + boss received a distinct shock, for, as his eyes were resting upon + Samuel's face meditatively while he listened somewhat apathetically, it + must be confessed, to the father's moving tale, the eye of the boy remote + from the father closed in a slow but significant wink. + </p> + <p> + The boss sat up, galvanised into alert attention. “Eh? What?” he + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, 'e's caused 'is ma many a (h)anxious hour, 'as Samuel.” Again + the eye closed in a slow and solemn wink. “And we thought, 'is ma and me, + that we would like to get Samuel into some easy job—” + </p> + <p> + “An easy job, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Something in the office, 'ere.” + </p> + <p> + “But his brain, you say, would not let him study his books.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it was them sums, sir, an' the Jography and the 'Istory an' the + Composition, an', an'—wot else, Samuel? You see, these 'ere schools + ain't a bit like the schools at 'ome, sir. They're so confusing with their + subjecks. Wot I say is, why not stick to real (h)eddication, without the + fiddle faddles?” + </p> + <p> + “So you want an easy job for your son, eh?” enquired Mr. Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “Boy,” he said sharply to Samuel, whose eyes had again become fixed upon + the gay and daring lumber-jack. Samuel recalled himself with visible + effort. “Why did you leave school? The truth, mind.” The “borin'” eyes + were at their work. + </p> + <p> + “Fired!” said Sam promptly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wigglesworth began a sputtering explanation. + </p> + <p> + “That will do, Wigglesworth,” said Mr. Maitland, holding up his hand. + “Sam, you come and see me tomorrow here at eight. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + Sam nodded. After they had departed there came through the closed office + door the sound of Mr. Wigglesworth's voice lifted in violent declamation, + but from Sam no answering sound could be heard. + </p> + <p> + The school suffered no noticeable loss in the intellectual quality of its + activities by the removal of the whirling brain and incidentally its + physical integument of Samuel Wigglesworth. To the smaller boys the + absence of Sam brought unbounded joy, more especially during the hours of + recess from study and on their homeward way from school after dismissal. + </p> + <p> + More than any other, little Steve Wickes rejoiced in Sam's departure from + school. Owing to some mysterious arrangement of Sam's brain cells he + seemed to possess an abnormal interest in observing the sufferings of any + animal. The squirming of an unfortunate fly upon a pin fascinated him, the + sight of a wretched dog driven mad with terror rushing frantically down a + street, with a tin can dangling to its tail, convulsed him with shrieking + delight. The more highly organised the suffering animal, the keener was + Sam's joy. A child, for instance, flying in a paroxysm of fear from Sam's + hideously contorted face furnished acute satisfaction. It fell naturally + enough that little Steve Wickes, the timid, shrinking, humpbacked son of + the dead soldier, Stephen Wickes, afforded Sam many opportunities of rare + pleasure. It was Sam that coined and, with the aid of his sycophantic + following never wanting to a bully, fastened to the child the nickname of + “Humpy Wicksy,” working thereby writhing agony in the lad's highly + sensitive soul. But Sam did not stay his hand at the infliction of merely + mental anguish. It was one of his favorite forms of sport to seize the + child by the collar and breeches and, swinging him high over head, hold + him there in an anguish of suspense, awaiting the threatened drop. It is + to be confessed that Sam was not entirely without provocation at the hands + of little Steve, for the lad had a truly uncanny cunning hidden in his + pencil, by means of which Sam was held up in caricature to the + surreptitious joy of his schoolmates. Sam's departure from school deprived + him of the full opportunity he formerly enjoyed of indulging himself in + his favourite sport. On this account he took the more eager advantage of + any opportunity that offered still to gratify his taste in this direction. + </p> + <p> + Sauntering sullenly homeward from his interview with the boss and with his + temper rasped to a raw edge by his father's wrathful comments upon his + “dommed waggin' tongue,” he welcomed with quite unusual eagerness the + opportunity for indulging himself in his pastime of baiting Humpy Wicksy + whom he overtook on his way home from school during the noon intermission. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Humpy,” he roared at the lad. + </p> + <p> + Like a frightened rabbit Steve scurried down a lane, Sam whooping after + him. + </p> + <p> + “Come back, you little beast. Do you hear me? I'll learn you to come when + you're called,” he shouted, catching the terrified lad and heaving him + aloft in his usual double-handed grip. + </p> + <p> + “Let me down, you! Leave me alone now,” shrieked the boy, squirming, + scratching, biting like an infuriated cat. + </p> + <p> + “Bite, would you?” said Sam, flinging the boy down. “Now then,” catching + him by the legs and turning him over on his stomach, “we'll make a + wheelbarrow of you. Gee up, Buck! Want a ride, boys?” he shouted to his + admiring gallery of toadies. “All aboard!” + </p> + <p> + While the unhappy Steve, shrieking prayers and curses, was struggling + vainly to extricate himself from the hands gripping his ankles, Annette + Perrotte, stepping smartly along the street on her way from the box + factory, came past the entrance to the lane. By her side strode a + broad-shouldered, upstanding youth. Arrested by Steve's outcries and + curses she paused. + </p> + <p> + “What are those boys at, I wonder?” she said. “There's that big lout of a + Wigglesworth boy. He's up to no good, I bet you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a kids' row of some kind or ither, a doot,” said the youth. “Come + along.” + </p> + <p> + “He's hurting someone,” said Annette, starting down the lane. “What? I + believe it's that poor child, Steve Wickes.” Like a wrathful fury she + dashed in upon Sam and his company of tormentors and, knocking the little + ones right and left, she sprang upon Sam with a fierce cry. + </p> + <p> + “You great brute!” She seized him by his thatch of thick red hair and with + one mighty swing she hurled him clear of Steve and dashed him head on + against the lane fence. Sheer surprise held Sam silent for a few seconds, + but as he felt the trickle of warm blood run down his face and saw it red + upon his hand, his surprise gave place to terror. + </p> + <p> + “Ouw! Ouw!” he bellowed. “I'm killed, I'm dying. Ouw! Ouw!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” said Annette, holding Steve in her arms and seeking to quiet + his sobbing. But as she saw the streaming blood her face paled. + </p> + <p> + “For the love of Mike, Mack, see if he's hurt,” she said in a low voice to + her companion. + </p> + <p> + “Not he! He's makin' too much noise,” said the young man. “Here, you young + bull, wait till I see what's wrang wi' ye,” he continued, stooping over + Sam. + </p> + <p> + “Get away from me, I tell you. Ouw! Ouw! I'm dying, and they'll hang her. + Ouw! Ouw! I'm killed, and I'm just glad I am, for she'll be hung to + death.” Here Sam broke into a vigorous stream of profanity. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he's improvin' A doot,” said Mack. “Let us be going.” + </p> + <p> + “'Ello! Wot's (h)up?” cried a voice. It was Mr. Wigglesworth on his way + home from the mill. “Why, bless my living lights, if it bean't Samuel. + Who's been a beatin' of you, Sammy?” His eye swept the crowd. “'Ave you + been at my lad?” he asked, stepping toward the young man, whom Annette + named Mack. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, steady up, man. There's naethin' much wrang wi' the lad—a wee + scratch on the heid frae fa'in' against the fence yonder.” + </p> + <p> + “Who 'it 'im, I say?” shouted Mr. Wigglesworth. “Was it you?” he added, + squaring up to the young man. + </p> + <p> + “No, it wasn't, Mr. Wigglesworth. It was me.” Mr. Wigglesworth turned on + Annette who, now that Sam's bellowing had much abated with the appearance + of his father upon the scene, had somewhat regained her nerve. + </p> + <p> + “You?” gasped Mr. Wigglesworth. “You? My Samuel? It's a lie,” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Hey, mon, guairrd y're tongue a bit,” said Mack. “Mind ye're speakin' to + a leddy.” + </p> + <p> + “A lidy! A lidy!” Mr. Wigglesworth's voice was eloquent of scorn. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, a leddy!” said Mack. “An' mind what ye say aboot her tae. Mind y're + manners, man.” + </p> + <p> + “My manners, hey? An' 'oo may you be, to learn me manners, you bloomin' + (h)ignorant Scotch (h)ass. You give me (h)any of your (h)imperance an' + I'll knock y're bloomin' block (h)off, I will.” And Mr. Wigglesworth, + throwing himself into the approved pugilistic attitude, began dancing + about the young Scot. + </p> + <p> + “Hoot, mon, awa' hame wi' ye. Tak' yon young tyke wi' ye an' gie him a bit + wash, he's needin' it,” said Mack, smiling pleasantly at the excited and + belligerent Mr. Wigglesworth. + </p> + <p> + At this point Captain Jack, slowly motoring by the lane mouth, turned his + machine to the curb and leaped out. + </p> + <p> + “What's the row here?” he asked, making his way through the considerable + crowd that had gathered. “What's the trouble, Wigglesworth?” + </p> + <p> + “They're knockin' my boy abaht, so they be,” exclaimed Mr. Wigglesworth. + “But,” with growing and righteous wrath, “they'll find (h)out that, + wotsomever they do to a kid, w'en they come (h)up agin Joe Wigglesworth + they've struck somethin' 'ard—'ard, d'ye 'ear? 'Ard!” And Mr. + Wigglesworth made a pass at the young Scot. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Wigglesworth,” said Captain Jack quietly, catching his arm. + “Were you beating up this kid?” he asked, turning to the young man. + </p> + <p> + “Nae buddie's beatin' up the lad,” said Mack quietly. + </p> + <p> + “It was me,” said the girl, turning a defiant face to Captain Jack. + </p> + <p> + “You? Why! great Scot! Blest if it isn't Annette.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's me,” said the girl, her face a flame of colour. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, you've grown up, haven't you? And it was you that—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that big brute was abusing Steve here.” + </p> + <p> + “What? Little Steve Wickes?” + </p> + <p> + “He was, and I pitched him into the fence. He hit his head and cut it, I + guess. I didn't mean—” + </p> + <p> + “Served him right enough, too, I fancy,” said Captain Jack. + </p> + <p> + “I'll 'ave the law on the lot o' ye, I will. I'm a poor workin' man, but + I've got my rights, an' if there's a justice in this Gawd forsaken country + I'll 'ave protection for my family.” And Mr. Wigglesworth, working up a + fury, backed off down the lane. + </p> + <p> + “Don't fear, Wigglesworth, you'll get all the justice you want. Perhaps + Sam will tell us—Hello! Where is Sam?” + </p> + <p> + But Sam had vanished. He had no mind for an investigation in the presence + of Captain Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, he can't be much injured, I guess. Meantime, can I give you a + lift, Annette?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” said the girl, the colour in her cheeks matching the + crimson ribbon at her throat. “I'm just going home. It's only a little + way. I don't—” + </p> + <p> + “The young leddy is with me, sir,” said the young Scotchman quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she is, eh?” said Captain Jack, looking him over. “Ah, well, then—Good-bye, + Annette, for the present.” He held out his hand. “We must renew our old + acquaintance, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + “'Sir?' Rot! You aren't going to 'sir' me, Annette, after all the fun and + the fights we had in the old days. Not much. We're going to be good chums + again, eh? What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Annette, flashing a swift glance into Captain Jack's + admiring eyes. “It depends on—” + </p> + <p> + “On me?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say so.” Her head went up a bit. + </p> + <p> + “On you?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let it go. But we will be pals again, Annette, I vow. Good-bye.” + Captain Jack lifted his hat and moved away. + </p> + <p> + As he reached his car he ran up against young Rupert Stillwell. + </p> + <p> + “Deucedly pretty Annette has grown, eh?” said Stillwell. + </p> + <p> + “Annette's all right,” said Jack, rather brusquely, entering his car. + </p> + <p> + “Working in your box factory, I understand, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't really know,” said Jack carelessly. “Probably.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd had meantime faded away with Captain Jack's going. + </p> + <p> + “Did na know the Captain was a friend of yours, Annette,” said Mack, + falling into step beside her. + </p> + <p> + “No—yes—I don't know. We went to Public School together before + the war. I was a kid then.” Her manner was abstracted and her eyes were + far away. Mack walked gloomily by her on one side, little Steve on the + other. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! He's no your sort, A doot,” he said sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say?” cried Annette, returning from her abstraction. “What do + you mean, 'my sort'?” Her head went high and her eyes flashed. + </p> + <p> + “He would na look at ye, for ony guid.” + </p> + <p> + “He did look at me though,” replied Annette, tossing her head. + </p> + <p> + “No for ony guid!” repeated Mack, stubbornly. + </p> + <p> + Annette stopped in her tracks, a burning red on her cheeks and a dangerous + light in her black eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. McNish, that's your road,” she said, pointing over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “A'll tak it tae,” said McNish, wheeling on his heel, “an' ye can hae your + Captain for me.” + </p> + <p> + With never a look at him Annette took her way home. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, Steve,” she said, stooping and kissing the boy. “This is your + corner.” + </p> + <p> + “Annette,” he said, with a quick, shy look up into her face, “I like + Captain Jack, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said hurriedly. “I mean yes, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “And I like you too,” said the boy, with an adoring look in his deep eyes, + “better'n anyone in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you, Steve? I'm glad.” Again she stooped swiftly and kissed him. “Now + run home.” + </p> + <p> + She hurried home, passed into her room without a word to anyone. Slowly + she removed her hat, then turning to her glass she gazed at her flushed + face for a few moments. A little smile curved her lips. “He did look at me + anyway,” she whispered to the face that looked out at her, “he did, he + did,” she repeated. Then swiftly she covered her eyes. When she looked + again she saw a face white and drawn. “He would na look at ye.” The words + smote her with a chill. Drearily she turned away and went out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + THE RECTORY + </h3> + <p> + The Rectory was one of the very oldest of the more substantial of + Blackwater's dwellings. Built of grey limestone from the local quarries, + its solid square mass relieved by its quaint dormer windows was softened + from its primal ugliness by the Boston ivy that had clambered to the eaves + and lay draped about the windows like a soft green mantle. Built in the + early days, it stood with the little church, a gem of Gothic architecture, + within spacious grounds bought when land was cheap. Behind the house stood + the stable, built also of grey limestone, and at one side a cherry and + apple orchard formed a charming background to the grey buildings with + their crowding shrubbery and gardens. A gravelled winding drive led from + the street through towering elms, a picturesque remnant from the original + forest, to the front door and round the house to the stable yard behind. + From the driveway a gravelled footpath led through the shrubbery and + flower garden by a wicket gate to the Church. When first built the Rectory + stood in dignified seclusion on the edge of the village, but the + prosperity of the growing town demanding space for its inhabitants had + driven its streets far beyond the Rectory demesne on every side, till now + it stood, a green oasis of sheltered loveliness, amid a crowding mass of + modern brick dwellings, comfortable enough but arid of beauty and + suggestive only of the utilitarian demands of a busy manufacturing town. + </p> + <p> + For nearly a quarter of a century the Rev. Herbert Aveling Templeton, + D.D., LL.D., for whom the Rectory had been built, had ministered in holy + things to the Parish of St. Alban's and had exercised a guiding and + paternal care over the social and religious well-being of the community. + The younger son of one of England's noble families, educated in an English + Public School and University, he represented, in the life of this new, + thriving, bustling town, the traditions and manners of an English + gentleman of the Old School. Still in his early sixties, he carried his + years with all the vigour of a man twenty years his junior. As he daily + took his morning walk for his mail, stepping with the brisk pace of one + whose poise the years had not been able to disturb, yet with the stately + bearing consistent with the dignity attaching to his position and office, + men's eyes followed the tall, handsome, white-haired, well set up + gentleman always with admiration and, where knowledge was intimate, with + reverence and affection. Before the recent rapid growth of the town + consequent upon the establishment of various manufacturing industries + attracted thither by the unique railroad facilities, the Rector's walk was + something in the nature of public perambulatory reception. For he knew + them all, and for all had a word of greeting, of enquiry, of cheer, of + admonition, so that by the time he had returned to his home he might have + been said to have conducted a pastoral visitation of a considerable + proportion of his flock. Even yet, with the changes that had taken place, + his walk to the Post Office was punctuated with greetings and salutations + from his fellow-citizens in whose hearts his twenty-five years of devotion + to their well-being, spiritual and physical, had made for him an enduring + place. + </p> + <p> + The lady of the Rectory, though some twenty years his junior, yet, by + reason of delicate health due largely to the double burden of household + cares and parish duties, appeared to be quite of equal age. Gentle in + spirit, frail in body, there seemed to be in her soul something of the + quality of tempered steel, yet withal a strain of worldly wisdom mingled + with a strange ignorance of the affairs of modern life. Her life revolved + around one centre, her adored husband, a centre enlarged as time went on + to include her only son and her two daughters. All others and all else in + her world were of interest solely as they might be more or less closely + related to these, the members of her family. The town and the town folk + she knew solely as her husband's parish. There were other people and other + communions, no doubt, but being beyond the pale they could hardly be + supposed to matter, or, at any rate, she could not be supposed to regard + them with more than the interest and spasmodic concern which she felt it + her duty to bestow upon those unfortunate dwellers in partibus infidelium. + </p> + <p> + Regarding the Public School of the town with aversion because of its + woefully democratic character, she was weaned from her hostility to that + institution when her son's name was entered upon its roll. Her eldest + daughter, indeed, she sent as a girl of fourteen to an exclusive English + school, the expense of which was borne by her husband's eldest brother, + Sir Arthur Templeton, for she held the opinion that while for a boy the + Public School was an excellent institution with a girl it was quite + different. Hence, while her eldest daughter went “Home” for her education, + her boy went to the Blackwater Public and High Schools, which institutions + became henceforth invested with the highest qualifications as centres of + education. Her boy's friends were her friends, and to them her house was + open at all hours of day or night. Indeed, it became the governing idea in + her domestic policy that her house should be the rallying centre for + everything that was related in any degree to her children's life. Hence, + she quietly but effectively limited the circle of the children's friends + to those who were able and were willing to make the Rectory their social + centre. She saw to it that for Herbert's intimate boy friends the big play + room at the top of the house, once a bare and empty room and later the + large and comfortable family living room, became the place of meeting for + all their social and athletic club activities. With unsleeping vigilance + she stood on guard against anything that might break that circle of her + heart's devotion. The circle might be, indeed must be enlarged, as for + instance to take in the Maitland boys, Herbert's closest chums. She was + wise enough to see the wisdom of that, but nothing on earth would she + allow to filch from her a single unit of the priceless treasures of her + heart. + </p> + <p> + To this law of her life she made one glorious, one splendid exception. + When her country called, she, after weeks of silent, fierce, lonely, + agonised struggle gave up her boy and sent him with voiceless, tearless + pride to the War. + </p> + <p> + But, when the boy's Colonel wrote in terms of affectionate pride of her + boy's glorious passing, with new and strange adaptability her heart circle + was extended to include her boy's comrades in war and those who like + herself had sent them forth. Thenceforth every khaki covered lad was to + her a son, and every soldier's mother a friend. + </p> + <p> + As her own immediate home circle grew smaller, the intensity of her + devotion increased. Her two daughters became her absorbing concern. With + the modern notion that a girl might make for herself a career in life she + had no sympathy whatever. To see them happily married and in homes of + their own became the absorbing ambition of her life. To this end she + administered her social activities, with this purpose in view she + encouraged or discouraged her daughters' friendships with men. With the + worldly wisdom of which she had her own share she came to the conclusion + that ineligible men friends, that is, men friends unable to give her + daughters a proper setting in the social world, were to be effectively + eliminated. That the men of her daughters' choosing should be gentlemen in + breeding went without saying, but that they should be sufficiently endowed + with wealth to support a proper social position was equally essential. + </p> + <p> + That Jack Maitland had somehow dropped out of the intimate circle of + friends who had in pre-war days made the Rectory their headquarters was to + her a more bitter disappointment than she cared to acknowledge even to + herself. Her son and the two Maitland boys had been inseparable in their + school and college days, and with the two young men her daughters had been + associated in the very closest terms of comradeship. But somehow Captain + Jack Maitland after the first months succeeding his return from the war + had drawn apart. Disappointed, perplexed, hurt, she vainly had striven to + restore the old footing between the young man and her daughters. Young + Maitland had taken up his medical studies for a few months at his old + University in Toronto and so had been out of touch with the social life of + his home town. Then after he had “chucked” his course as impossible he had + at his father's earnest wish taken up work at the mills, at first in the + office, later in the manufacturing department. There was something queer + in Jack's attitude toward his old life and its associations, and after her + first failures in attempting to restore the old relationship her eldest + daughter's pride and then her own forbade further efforts. + </p> + <p> + Adrien, her eldest daughter, had always been a difficult child, and her + stay in England and later her experience in war work in France where for + three years she had given rare service in hospital work had somehow made + her even more inaccessible to her mother. And now the situation had been + rendered more distressing by her determination “to find something to do.” + She was firm in her resolve that she had no intention of patiently waiting + in her home, ostensibly busying herself with social duties but in reality + “waiting if not actually angling for a man.” She bluntly informed her + scandalised parent that “when she wanted a man more than a career it would + be far less humiliating to frankly go out and get him than to practise + alluring poses in the hopes that he might deign to bestow upon her his + lordly regard.” Her mother wisely forebore to argue. Indeed, she had long + since learned that in argumentive powers she was hopelessly outclassed by + her intellectual daughter. She could only express her shocked + disappointment at such intentions and quietly plan to circumvent them. + </p> + <p> + As to Patricia, her younger daughter, she dismissed all concern. She was + only a child as yet, wise beyond her years, but too thoroughly immature to + cause any anxiety for some years to come. Meantime she had at first + tolerated and then gently encouraged the eager and obvious anxiety of + Rupert Stillwell to make a footing for himself in the Rectory family. At + the outbreak of the war her antipathy to young Stillwell as a slacker had + been violent. He had not joined up with the first band of ardent young + souls who had so eagerly pointed the path to duty and to glory. But, when + it had been made clear to the public mind that young Stillwell had been + pronounced physically unfit for service and was therefore prevented from + taking his place in that Canadian line which though it might wear thin at + times had never broken, Mrs. Templeton relieved him in her mind of the + damning count of being a slacker. Later, becoming impressed with the + enthusiasm of the young man's devotion to various forms of patriotic war + service at home, she finally, though it must be confessed with something + of an effort, had granted him a place within the circle of her home. + Furthermore, Rupert Stillwell had done extremely well in all his business + enterprises and had come to be recognised as one of the coming young men + of the district, indeed of the Province, with sure prospects of + advancement in public estimation. Hence, the frequency with which + Stillwell's big Hudson Six could be seen parked on the gravelled drive + before the Rectory front door. In addition to this, Rupert and his Hudson + Six were found to be most useful. He had abundance of free time and he was + charmingly ready with his offers of service. Any hour of the day the car, + driven by himself or his chauffeur, was at the disposal of any member of + the Rectory family, a courtesy of which Mrs. Templeton was not unwilling + to avail herself though never with any loss of dignity but always with + appearance of bestowing rather than of receiving a favour. As to the young + ladies, Adrien rarely allowed herself the delight of a motor ride in + Rupert Stillwell's luxurious car. On the other hand, had her mother not + intervened, Patricia would have indulged without scruple her passion for + joy-riding. The car she adored, Rupert Stillwell she regarded simply as a + means to the indulgence of her adoration. He was a jolly companion, a + cleverly humourous talker, and an unfailing purveyor of bon-bons. Hence he + was to Patricia an ever welcome guest at the Rectory, and the warmth of + Patricia's welcome went a long way to establish his position of intimacy + in the family. + </p> + <p> + It was not to be supposed, however, that that young lady's gracious and + indeed eager acceptance of the manifold courtesies of the young gentleman + in question burdened her in the very slightest with any sense of + obligation to anything but the most cavalier treatment of him, should + occasion demand. She was unhesitatingly frank and ready with criticism and + challenge of his opinions, indeed he appeared to possess a fatal facility + for championing her special aversions and antagonising her enthusiasms. Of + the latter her most avowed example was Captain Jack, as she loved to call + him. A word of criticism of Captain Jack, her hero, her knight, sans peur + et sans reproche and her loyal soul was aflame with passionate resentment. + </p> + <p> + It so fell on an occasion when young Stillwell was a dinner guest at the + Rectory. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Patricia,” and Rupert Stillwell looked across the dinner + table teasingly into Patricia's face, “your Captain Jack was rather mixed + up in a nice little row to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “I heard all about it, Rupert, and Captain Jack did just what I would have + expected him to do.” Patricia's unsmiling eyes looked steadily into the + young man's smiling face. + </p> + <p> + “Rescued a charming young damsel, eh? By the way, that Perrotte girl has + turned out uncommonly good looking,” continued Rupert, addressing the + elder sister. + </p> + <p> + “Rescuing a poor little ill-treated boy from the hands of a brutal bully + and the bully's brutal father—” Patricia's voice was coolly + belligerent. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Patricia!” The mother's voice was deprecatingly pacific. + </p> + <p> + “It is simply true, Mother, and Rupert knows it quite well too, or—” + </p> + <p> + “Patricia!” Her father's quiet voice arrested his daughter's flow of + speech. + </p> + <p> + “But, Father, everyone—” + </p> + <p> + “Patricia!” The voice was just as quiet but with a slightly increased + distinctness in enunciation, and glancing swiftly at her father's face + Patricia recognised that the limits of her speech had been reached, unless + she preferred to change the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Annette has grown very pretty, indeed,” said Adrien, taking up the + conversation, “and is really a very nice girl, indeed. She sings + beautifully. She is the leading soprano in her church choir, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Jack Maitland appeared to think her quite charming,” said Rupert, + making eyes at Patricia. Patricia's lips tightened and her eyes gleamed a + bit. + </p> + <p> + “They were in school together, I think, were they not, Mamma?” said + Adrien, flushing slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course they were, and so was Rupert, too—” said Patricia with + impatient scorn, “and so would you if you hadn't been sent to England,” + she added to her sister. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt of it,” said Rupert with a smile, “but you see she was fortunate + enough to be sent to England.” + </p> + <p> + “Blackwater is good enough for me,” said Patricia, a certain stubborn + hostility in her tone. + </p> + <p> + “I have always thought the Blackwater High School an excellent + institution,” said her mother quickly, “especially for boys.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, for boys,” replied Stillwell, “but for young ladies—well, + there is something in an English school, you know, that you can't get in + any High School here in Canada.” + </p> + <p> + “Rot!” ejaculated Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Patricia!” The mother was quite shocked. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Mother, but you know we have a perfectly splendid High School + here. Father has often said so.” + </p> + <p> + Her mother sighed. “Yes, for boys. But for girls, I feel with Rupert that + you get something in English schools that—” She hesitated, looking + uncertainly at her elder daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and perhaps lose something, Mamma,” said Adrien quietly. “I mean,” + she added hastily, “you lose touch with a lot of things and people, + friends. Now, for instance, you remember when we were all children, boys + and girls together, at the Public School, Annette was one of the cleverest + and best of the lot of us, I used to be fond of her—and the others. + Now—” + </p> + <p> + “But you can't help growing up,” said Rupert, “and—well, democracy + is all right and that sort of thing, but you must drift into your class + you know. There's Annette, for instance. She is a factory hand, a fine + girl of course, and all that, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I suppose we must recognise facts. Rupert, you are quite right,” said + Mrs. Templeton, “there must be social distinctions and there are classes. + I mean,” she added, as if to forestall the outburst she saw gathering + behind her younger daughter's closed lips, “we must inevitably draw to our + own set by our natural or acquired tastes and by our traditions and + breeding.” + </p> + <p> + “All very well in England, Mamma. I suppose dear Uncle Arthur and our dear + cousins would hardly feel called upon to recognise Annette as a friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should they?” challenged Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Patricia,” said her father, mildly patient, “you are quite wrong. + Our people at home, your uncle Arthur, I mean, and your cousins, and all + well-bred folk, do not allow class distinctions to limit friendship. + Friends are chosen on purely personal grounds of real worth and—well, + congeniality.” + </p> + <p> + “Would Uncle Arthur, or rather, Aunt Alicia have Annette to dinner, for + instance?” demanded Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” said her mother promptly. + </p> + <p> + “She would not do anything to embarrass Annette,” said her father. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dad, what a funk. That is quite unworthy of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Would she be asked here now to dinner?” said Rupert. “I mean,” he added + in some confusion, “would it be, ah, suitable? You know what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “She has been here. Don't you remember, Mamma? She was often here. And + every time she came she was the cleverest thing, she was the brightest, + the most attractive girl in the bunch.” Her mother's eyebrows went up. “In + the party, I mean. And the most popular. Why, I remember quite well that + Rupert was quite devoted to her.” + </p> + <p> + “A mere child, she was then, you know,” said Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “She is just as bright, just as attractive, as clever now, more so indeed, + as fine a girl in every way. But of course she was not a factory girl + then. That's what you mean,” replied Patricia scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “She has found her class,” persisted Rupert. “She is all you say, but + surely—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she is working in the new box factory. Her mother, lazy, selfish + thing, took her from the High School.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Patricia, you are quite violent,” protested her mother. + </p> + <p> + “It's true, Mamma,” continued the girl, her eyes agleam, “and now she + works in the box factory while Captain Jack works in the planing mill. She + is in the same class.” + </p> + <p> + “And good friends apparently,” said Rupert with a malicious little grin. + </p> + <p> + “Why not? We would have Captain Jack to dinner, but not Annette.” + </p> + <p> + Her father smiled at her. “Well done, little girl. Annette is a fine girl + and is fortunate in her champion. You can have her to dinner any evening, + I am quite sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Can we, Mamma?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, we will not discuss the matter any further,” said her mother. + “It is a very old question and very perplexing, I confess, but—” + </p> + <p> + “We don't see Captain Jack very much since his return,” said her father, + turning the conversation. “You might begin with him, eh, Patsy?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the girl, a shade falling on her face. “He is always busy. He + has such long hours. He works his day's work with the men and then he + always goes up to the office to his father—and—and—Oh, I + don't know, I wish he would come. He's not—” Patricia fell suddenly + silent. + </p> + <p> + “Jack is very much engaged,” said her mother quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally he is tied up, learning the business, I mean,” said the elder + sister quietly. “He has little time for mere social frivolities and that + sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not that, Adrien,” said Patricia. “He is different since he came + back. I wish—” She paused abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “He is changed,” said her mother with a sigh. “They—the boys are all + changed.” + </p> + <p> + “The war has left its mark upon them, and what else can we expect?” said + Dr. Templeton. “One wonders how they can settle down at all to work.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack has settled down all right,” said Patricia, as if analysing a + subject interesting to herself alone. “Jack's not like a lot of them. He's + too much settled down. What is it, I wonder? He seems to have quit + everything, dancing, tennis, golf. He doesn't care—” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn't care? What for? That sounds either as if he were an egotist or a + slacker.” Her sister's words rasped Patricia's most sensitive heart + string. She visibly squirmed, eagerly waiting a chance to reply. “Jack is + neither,” continued Adrien slowly. “I understand the thing perfectly. He + has been up against big things, so big that everything else seems trivial. + Fancy a tennis tournament for a man that has stared into hell's mouth.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, you are right,” said her father. “Patricia is really talking too + much. Young people should—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, Daddy—'be seen,'” said the younger daughter, and grinning + affectionately at him she blew him a kiss. “But, all the same, I wish + Captain Jack were not so awfully busy or were a little more keen about + things. He wants something to stir him up.” + </p> + <p> + “He may get that sooner than he thinks,” said Stillwell, “or wishes. I + hear there's likely to be trouble in the mills.” + </p> + <p> + “Trouble? Financial? I should be very sorry,” said Dr. Templeton. + </p> + <p> + “No. Labour. The whole labour world is in a ferment. The Maitlands can + hardly expect to escape. As a matter of fact, the row has made a little + start, I happen to know.” + </p> + <p> + “These labour troubles are really very distressing. There is no end to + them,” said Mrs. Templeton, with the resignation one shows in discussing + the inscrutable ways of Providence. “It does seem as if the working + classes to-day have got quite beyond all bounds. One wonders what they + will demand next. What is the trouble now, Rupert? Of course—wages.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the eternal old trouble is there, with some new ones added that make + even wages seem small.” + </p> + <p> + “And what are these?” enquired Dr. Templeton. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, division of profits, share in administration and control.” + </p> + <p> + “Division of profits in addition to wages?” enquired Mrs. Templeton, + aghast. “But, how dreadful. One would think they actually owned the + factory.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the modern doctrine, I believe,” said Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “Surely that is an extreme statement,” said Dr. Templeton, in a shocked + voice, “or you are talking of the very radical element only.” + </p> + <p> + “The Rads lead, of course, but you would be surprised at the demands made + to-day. Why, I heard a young chap last week, a soap-box artist, denouncing + all capitalists as parasites. 'Why should we work for anyone but + ourselves?' he was saying. 'Why don't we take charge of the factories and + run them for the general good?' I assure you, sir, those were his very + words.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, Rupert, you amaze me. In Blackwater here?” exclaimed Dr. + Templeton. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear papa, that sort of thing is the commonplace of Hyde Park, + you know,” said Adrien, “and—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Hyde Park, yes. I should expect that sort of thing from the Hyde Park + orators. You get every sort of mad doctrine in Hyde Park, as I remember + it, but—” + </p> + <p> + “And I was going to say that that sort of thing has got away beyond Hyde + Park. Why, papa dear, you have been so engrossed in your Higher + Mathematics that you have failed to keep up with the times.” His eldest + daughter smiled at him and, reaching across the corner of the table, + patted his hand affectionately. “We are away beyond being shocked at + profit sharing, and even sharing in control of administration and that + sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + “But there remains justice, I hope,” said her father, “and the right of + ownership.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that's just it—what is ownership?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, Adrien,” said Rupert, “you are not saying that Mr. Maitland + doesn't own his factory and mill.” + </p> + <p> + “It depends on what you mean by own,” said the girl coolly. “You must not + take too much for granted.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what my money pays for I own, I suppose,” said Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Adrien, “that depends.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Adrien,” said her mother, “you have such strange notions. I + suppose you got them in those Clubs in London and from those queer people + you used to meet.” + </p> + <p> + “Very dear people,” said Adrien, with a far away look in her eyes, “and + people that loved justice and right.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Ade,” said her younger sister, with a saucy grin, “I agree + entirely with your sentiments. I just adore that pale blue tie of yours. I + suppose, now that what's yours is mine, I can preempt that when I like.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me catch you at it!” + </p> + <p> + “Well done, Patricia. You see the theories are all right till we come to + have them applied all round,” said Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “We were talking of joint ownership, Pat,” said her sister, “the joint + ownership of things to the making of which we have each contributed a + part.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Rupert. “I guess Grant Maitland paid his own good money + for his plant.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Adrien. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and all he paid for he owns.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's all there is to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pardon me—there is a good deal more—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, children, we shall not discuss the subject any further. Shall + we all go up for coffee?” + </p> + <p> + “These are very radical views you are advancing, Adrien,” said her father, + rising from his chair. “You must be careful not to say things like that in + circles where you might be taken seriously.” + </p> + <p> + “Seriously, Daddy? I was never more serious in my life.” She put her arm + through her father's. “I must give you some books, some reports to read, I + see,” she said, laughing up into his face. + </p> + <p> + “Evidently,” said her father, “if I am to live with you.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what Captain Jack would think of these views,” said Rupert, + dropping into step with Patricia as they left the dining room together. + </p> + <p> + “He will think as Adrien does,” said Patricia stoutly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I wouldn't be too sure about that,” said Rupert. “You see, it makes a + difference whose ox is being gored.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” cried Patricia hotly. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Pat,” said her sister over her shoulder. “I don't think he + knows Captain Jack as we do.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps better,” said Rupert in a significant tone. + </p> + <p> + Patricia drew away from him. + </p> + <p> + “I think you are just horrid,” she said. “Captain Jack is—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, dear. Don't let him pull your leg like that,” said her + sister, with a little colour in her cheek. “We know Captain Jack, don't + we?” + </p> + <p> + “We do!” said Patricia with enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “We do!” echoed Rupert, with a smile that drove Pat into a fury. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + THE GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE + </h3> + <p> + There was trouble at the Maitland Mills. For the first time in his history + Grant Maitland found his men look askance at him. For the first time in + his life he found himself viewing with suspicion the workers whom he had + always taken a pride in designating “my men.” The situation was at once + galling to his pride and shocking to his sense of fair play. His men were + his comrades in work. He knew them—at least, until these war days he + had known them—personally, as friends. They trusted him and were + loyal to him, and he had taken the greatest care to deal justly and more + than justly by them. No labour troubles had ever disturbed the relations + which existed between him and his men. It was thus no small shock when + Wickes announced one day that a Grievance Committee wished to interview + him. That he should have to meet a Grievance Committee, whose boast it had + been that the first man in the works to know of a grievance was himself, + and that the men with whom he had toiled and shared both good fortune and + ill, but more especially the good, that had befallen through the last + quarter century should have a grievance against him—this was indeed + an experience that cut him to the heart and roused in him a fury of + perplexed indignation. + </p> + <p> + “A what? A Grievance Committee!” he exclaimed to Wickes, when the old + bookkeeper came announcing such a deputation. + </p> + <p> + “That's what they call themselves, sir,” said Wickes, his tone of disgust + disclaiming all association with any such organization. + </p> + <p> + “A Grievance Committee?” said Mr. Maitland again. “Well, I'll be! What do + they want? Who are they? Bring them in,” he roared in a voice whose + ascending tone indicated his growing amazement and wrath. + </p> + <p> + “Come in you,” growled Wickes in the voice he generally used for his + collie dog, which bore a thoroughly unenviable reputation, “come on in, + can't ye?” + </p> + <p> + There was some shuffling for place in the group at the door, but finally + Mr. Wigglesworth found himself pushed to the front of a committee of five. + With a swift glance which touched “the boss” in its passage and then + rested upon the wall, the ceiling, the landscape visible through the + window, anywhere indeed rather than upon the face of the man against whom + they had a grievance, they filed in and stood ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Wigglesworth, what is it?” said Grant Maitland curtly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wigglesworth cleared his throat. He was new at the business and was + obviously torn between conflicting emotions of pride in his present + important position and a wholesome fear of his “boss.” However, having + cleared his throat, Mr. Wigglesworth pulled himself together and with a + wave of the hand began. + </p> + <p> + “These 'ere—er—gentlemen an' myself 'ave been (h)appinted a + Committee to lay before you certain grievances w'ich we feel to be very + (h)oppressive, sir, so to speak, w'ich, an' meanin' no offence, sir, as + men, fellow-men, as we might say—” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want, Wigglesworth? What's your trouble? You have some + trouble, what is it? Spit it out, man,” said the boss sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, as I was a-sayin', this 'ere's a Committee (h)appinted to wait + on you, sir, to lay before you certain facts w'ich we wish you to consider + an' w'ich, as British subjecks, we feel—” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Wigglesworth, cut out the speech, and get at the things. What + do you want? Do you know? If so, tell me plainly and get done with it.” + </p> + <p> + “We want our rights as men,” said Mr. Wigglesworth in a loud voice, “our + rights as free men, and we demand to be treated as British—” + </p> + <p> + “Is there anyone of this Committee that can tell me what you want of me?” + said Maitland. “You, Gilby, you have some sense—what is the trouble? + You want more wages, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess so,” said Gilby, a long, lean man, Canadian born, of about + thirty, “but it ain't the wages that's eatin' me so much.” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” + </p> + <p> + “It's that blank foreman.” + </p> + <p> + “Foreman?” + </p> + <p> + “That's right, sir.” “Too blanked smart!” “Buttin' in like a blank billy + goat!” The growls came in various undertones from the Committee. + </p> + <p> + “What foreman? Hoddle?” The boss was ready to fight for his subalterns. + </p> + <p> + “No! Old Hoddle's all right,” said Gilby. “It's that young smart aleck, + Tony Perrotte.” + </p> + <p> + “Tony Perrotte!” Mr. Maitland's voice was troubled and uncertain. “Tony + Perrotte! Why, you don't mean to tell me that Perrotte is not a good man. + He knows his job from the ground up.” + </p> + <p> + “Knows too much,” said Gilby. “Wants to run everything and everybody. You + can't tell him anything. And you'd think he was a Brigadier-General to + hear him giving us orders.” + </p> + <p> + “You were at the front, Gilby?” + </p> + <p> + “I was, for three years.” + </p> + <p> + “You know what discipline is?” + </p> + <p> + “I do that, and I know too the difference between a Corporal and a Company + Commander. I know an officer when I see him. But a brass hat don't make a + General.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't stand for insubordination in my mills, Gilby. You must take + orders from my foreman. You know me, Gilby. You've been long enough with + me for that.” + </p> + <p> + “You treat a man fair, Mr. Maitland, and I never kicked at your orders. + Ain't that so?” + </p> + <p> + Maitland nodded. + </p> + <p> + “But this young dude—” + </p> + <p> + “'Dude'? What do you mean, 'dude'? He's no dude!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he's so stuck on himself that he gives me the wearisome willies. Look + here, other folks has been to the war. He needn't carry his chest like a + blanked bay window.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Gilby, just quit swearing in this room.” The cold blue eyes + bored into Gilby's hot face. + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon, sir. It's a bad habit I've got, but that—that Tony + Perrotte has got my goat and I'm through with him.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Gilby. If you don't like your job you know what you can do,” + said Maitland coldly. + </p> + <p> + “You mean I can quit?” enquired Gilby hotly. + </p> + <p> + “I mean there's only one boss in these works, and that's me. And my + foreman takes my orders and passes them along. Those that don't like them + needn't take them.” + </p> + <p> + “We demand our rights as—” began Mr. Wigglesworth heatedly. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, sir. 'A should like to enquir-r-e if it is your-r or-rder-rs + that your-r for-r-man should use blasphemious language to your-r men?” + </p> + <p> + The cool, firm, rasping voice cut through Mr. Wigglesworth's sputtering + noise like a circular saw through a pine log. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maitland turned sharply upon the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name, my man?” he enquired. + </p> + <p> + “Ma name is Malcolm McNish. 'A doot ye have na har-r-d it. But the name + maitters little. It's the question 'A'm speerin'—asking at ye.” + </p> + <p> + Here was no amateur in the business of Grievance Committees. His manner + was that of a self-respecting man dealing with a fellow-man on terms of + perfect equality. There was a complete absence of Wigglesworth's noisy + bluster, as also of Gilby's violent profanity. He obviously knew his + ground and was ready to hold it. He had a case and was prepared to discuss + it. There was no occasion for heat or bluster or profanity. He was + prepared to discuss the matter, man to man. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maitland regarded him for a moment or two with keen steady gaze. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you work, McNish?” he enquired of the Scot. + </p> + <p> + “A'm workin' the noo in the sawmill. A'm a joiner to trade.” + </p> + <p> + “Then Perrotte is not your foreman?” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said McNish quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Then personally you have no grievance against him?” Mr. Maitland had the + air of a man who has scored a bull at the first shot. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, A have an' the men tae—the men I represent have—” + </p> + <p> + “And you assume to speak for them?” + </p> + <p> + “They appoint me to speak for them.” + </p> + <p> + “And their complaint is—?” + </p> + <p> + “Their complaint is that he is no fit to be a foreman.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, indeed! And you are here solely on their word—” + </p> + <p> + “No, not solely, but pairtly. A know by experience and A hae har-r-d the + man, and he's no fit for his job, A'm tellin' you.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know the qualifications of a foreman, McNish?” enquired Mr. + Maitland with the suspicion of sarcasm in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, A do that.” + </p> + <p> + “And how, may I ask, have you come to the knowledge?” + </p> + <p> + “A dinna see—I do not see the bearing of the question.” + </p> + <p> + “Only this, that you and those you represent place your judgment as + superior to mine in the choice of a foreman. It would be interesting to + know upon what grounds.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been a foreman myself. But there are two points of view in this + question—the point of view of the management and that of the worker. + We have the one point of view, you have the other. And each has its value. + Ours is the more important.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! And why, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “Yours has chiefly to do with profits, ours with human life.” + </p> + <p> + “Very interesting indeed,” said Mr. Maitland, “but it happens that profits + and human life are somewhat closely allied—” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, but wi' you profits are the primary consideration and humanity the + secondary. Wi' us humanity is the primary.” + </p> + <p> + “Very interesting, indeed. But I must decline your premise. You are a new + man here and so I will excuse you the impudence of charging me with + indifference to the well-being of my men.” + </p> + <p> + “You put wur-r-ds in my mouth, Mr. Maitland. A said nae sic thing,” said + McNish. “But your foreman disna' know his place, and he must be changed.” + </p> + <p> + “'Must,' eh?” The word had never been used to Mr. Maitland since his own + father fifty years before had used it. It was an unfortunate word for the + success of the interview. “'Must,' eh?” repeated Mr. Maitland with rising + wrath. “I'd have you know, McNish, that the man doesn't live that says + 'must' to me in regard to the men I choose to manage my business.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you refuse to remove yere foreman?” + </p> + <p> + “Most emphatically, I do,” said Mr. Maitland with glints of fire in his + blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Verra weel, so as we know yere answer. There is anither matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes? Well, be quick about it.” + </p> + <p> + “A wull that. Ye dinna pay yere men enough wages.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know I don't?” said Mr. Maitland rising from his chair. + </p> + <p> + “A have examined certain feegures which I shall be glad to submit tae ye, + in regard tae the cost o' leevin' since last ye fixed the wage. If yere + wage was right then, it's wrang the noo.” Under the strain Mr. Maitland's + boring eyes and increasing impatience the Doric flavour of McNish's speech + grew richer and more guttural, varying with the intensity of his emotion. + </p> + <p> + “And what may these figures be?” enquired Mr. Maitland with a voice of + contempt. + </p> + <p> + “These are the figures prepared by the Labour Department of your Federal + Government. I suppose they may be relied upon. They show the increased + cost of living during the last five years. You know yeresel' the increase + in wages. Mr. Maitland, I am told ye are a just man, an' we ask ye tae dae + the r-r-right. That's all, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for your good opinion, my man. Whether I am a just man or not + is for my own conscience alone. As to the wage question, Mr. Wickes will + tell you, the matter had already been taken up. The result will be + announced in a week or so.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir,” said Mr. Wigglesworth. “We felt sure it + would only be necessary to point (h)out the right course to you. I may say + I took the same (h)identical (h)attitude with my fellow workmen. I sez to + them, sez I, 'Mr. Maitland—' + </p> + <p> + “That will do, Wigglesworth,” said Mr. Maitland, cutting him short. “Have + you anything more to say?” he continued, turning to McNish. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, sir, except to express the hope that you will reconsider yere + attitude as regards the foreman.” + </p> + <p> + “You may take my word for it, I will not,” said Mr. Maitland, snapping his + words off with his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “At least, as a fair-minded man, you will look into the matter,” said + McNish temperately. + </p> + <p> + “I shall do as I think best,” said Mr. Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “It would be wiser.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you threaten me, sir?” Mr. Maitland leaned over his desk toward the + calm and rugged Scot, his eyes flashing indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Threaten ye? Na, na, threats are for bairns. Yere no a bairn, but a man + an' a wise man an' a just, A doot. A'm gie'in' ye advice. That's all. Guid + day.” + </p> + <p> + He turned away from the indignant Mr. Maitland, put his hat on his head + and walked from the room, followed by the other members of the Committee, + with the exception of Mr. Wigglesworth who lingered with evidently pacific + intentions. + </p> + <p> + “This, sir, is a most (h)auspicious (h)era, sir. The (h)age of reason and + justice 'as dawned, an'—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, get out, Wigglesworth. Haven't you made all your speeches yet? The + time for the speeches is past. Good day.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to his bookkeeper. + </p> + <p> + “Wickes, bring me the reports turned in by Perrotte, at once.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maitland's manner was frankly, almost brutally, imperious. It was not + his usual manner with his subordinates, from which it may be gathered that + Mr. Maitland was seriously disturbed. And with good reason. In the first + place, never in his career had one of his men addressed him in the cool + terms of equality which McNish had used with him in the recent interview. + Then, never had he been approached by a Grievance Committee. The whole + situation was new, irritating, humiliating. + </p> + <p> + As to the wages question, he would settle that without difficulty. He had + never skimped the pay envelope. It annoyed him, however, that he had been + forstalled in the matter by this Committee. But very especially he was + annoyed by the recollection of the deliberative, rasping tones of that + cool-headed Scot, who had so calmly set before him his duty. But the sting + of the interview lay in the consciousness that the criticism of his + foreman was probably just. And then, he was tied to Tony Perrotte by bonds + that reached his heart. Had it not been so, he would have made short work + of the business. As it was, Tony would have to stay at all costs. Mr. + Maitland sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed upon the Big Bluff visible + through the window, but his mind lingering over a picture that had often + gripped hard at his heart during the last two years, a picture drawn for + him in a letter from his remaining son, Jack. The letter lay in the desk + at his hand. He saw in the black night that shell-torn strip of land + between the lines, black as a ploughed field, lurid for a swift moment + under the red glare of a bursting shell or ghastly in the sickly + illumination of a Verry light, and over this black pitted earth a man + painfully staggering with a wounded man on his back. The words leaped to + his eyes. “He brought me out of that hell, Dad.” He closed his eyes to + shut out that picture, his hands clenched on the arms of his chair. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, raising his hand in solemn affirmation, “as the Lord God + liveth, while I stay he stays.” + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” he said, in answer to a timid tap at the office door. Mr. + Wickes laid a file before him. It needed only a rapid survey of the sheets + to give him the whole story. Incompetence and worse, sheer carelessness + looked up at him from every sheet. The planing mill was in a state of + chaotic disorganization. + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean, Mr. Wickes?” he burst forth, putting his finger upon + an item that cried out mismanagement and blundering. “Here is an order + that takes a month to clear which should be done within ten days at the + longest.” + </p> + <p> + Wickes stood silent, overwhelmed in dismayed self-condemnation. + </p> + <p> + “It seems difficult somehow to get orders through, sir, these days,” he + said after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Difficult? What is the difficulty? The men are there, the machines are + there, the material is in the yard. Why the delay? And look at this. Here + is a lot of material gone to the scrap heap, the finest spruce ever grown + in Canada too. What does this mean, Wickes?” he seemed to welcome the + opportunity of finding a scapegoat for economic crimes, for which he could + find no pardon. + </p> + <p> + Sheet after sheet passed in swift review under his eye. Suddenly he flung + himself back in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Wickes, this is simply damnable!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Wickes, his face pale and his fingers trembling. “I don't—I + don't seem to be able to—to—get things through.” + </p> + <p> + “Get things through? I should say not,” shouted Maitland, glaring at him. + </p> + <p> + “I have tried, I mean I'm afraid I'm—that I am not quite up to it, + as I used to be. I get confused—and—” The old bookkeeper's + lips were white and quivering. He could not get on with his story. + </p> + <p> + “Here, take these away,” roared Maitland. + </p> + <p> + Gathering up the sheets with fingers that trembled helplessly, Wickes + crept hurriedly out through the door, leaving a man behind him furiously, + helplessly struggling in the relentless grip of his conscience, lashed + with a sense of his own injustice. His anger which had found vent upon his + old bookkeeper he knew was due another man, a man with whom at any cost he + could never allow himself to be angry. The next two hours were bad hours + for Grant Maitland. + </p> + <p> + As the quitting whistle blew a tap came again to the office door. It was + Wickes, with a paper in his hand. Without a word he laid the paper upon + his chief's desk and turned away. Maitland glanced over it rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “Wickes, what does this nonsense mean?” His chief's voice arrested him. He + turned again to the desk. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think—I have come to feel, sir, that I am not able for my + job. I do not see as how I can go on.” Maitland's brows frowned upon the + sheet. Slowly he picked up the paper, tore it across and tossed it into + the waste basket. + </p> + <p> + “Wickes, you are an old fool—and,” he added in a voice that grew + husky, “I am another and worse.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir—” began Wickes, in hurried tones. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, cut it all out, Wickes,” said Maitland impatiently. “You know I won't + stand for that. But what can we do? He saved my boy's life—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, and he was with my Stephen at the last, and—” The old + man's voice suddenly broke. + </p> + <p> + “I remember, Wickes, I remember. And that's another reason—We must + find another way out.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking, sir,” said the bookkeeper timidly, “if you had a + younger man in my place—” + </p> + <p> + “You would go out, eh? I believe on my soul you would. You—you—old + fool. But,” said Maitland, reaching his hand across the desk, “I don't go + back on old friends that way.” + </p> + <p> + The two men stood facing each other for a few minutes, with hands clasped, + Maitland's face stern and set, Wickes' working in a pitiful effort to stay + the tears that ran down his cheeks, to choke back the sobs that shook his + old body as if in the grip of some unseen powerful hand. + </p> + <p> + “We must find a way,” said Maitland, when he felt sure of his voice. “Some + way, but not that way. Sit down. We must go through this together.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + THE FOREMAN + </h3> + <p> + Grant Maitland's business instincts and training were such as to forbid + any trifling with loose management in any department of his plant. He was, + moreover, too just a man to allow any of his workmen to suffer for + failures not their own. His first step was to get at the facts. His + preliminary move was characteristic of him. He sent for McNish. + </p> + <p> + “McNish,” he said, “your figures I have examined. They tell me nothing I + did not know, but they are cleverly set down. The matter of wages I shall + deal with as I have always dealt with it in my business. The other matter—” + Mr. Maitland paused, then proceeded with grave deliberation, “I must deal + with in my own way. It will take a little time. I shall not delay + unnecessarily, but I shall accept dictation from no man as to my methods.” + </p> + <p> + McNish stood silently searching his face with steady eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You are a new man here, and I find you are a good workman,” continued Mr. + Maitland. “I don't know you nor your aims and purposes in this Grievance + Committee business of yours. If you want a steady job with a chance to get + on, you will get both; if you want trouble, you can get that too, but not + for long, here.” + </p> + <p> + Still the Scot held him with grave steady gaze, but speaking no word. + </p> + <p> + “You understand me, McNish?” said Maitland, nettled at the man's silence. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, A've got a heid,” he said in an impassive voice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I hope you will govern yourself accordingly. Good-day,” said + Maitland, closing the interview. + </p> + <p> + McNish still stood immovable. + </p> + <p> + “That's all I have to say,” said Maitland, glancing impatiently at the + man. + </p> + <p> + “But it's no all A have to say, if ye will pairmit me,” answered McNish in + a voice quiet and respectful and apparently, except for its Doric flavour, + quite untouched by emotion of any kind soever. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said Maitland shortly, as the Scot stood waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Maister Maitland,” said McNish, rolling out a deeper Doric, “ye have made + a promise and a threat. Yere threat is naething tae me. As tae yere job, A + want it and A want tae get on, but A'm a free man the noo an' a free man A + shall ever be. Good-day tae ye.” He bowed respectfully to his employer and + strode from the room. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maitland sat looking at the closed door. + </p> + <p> + “He is a man, that chap, at any rate,” he said to himself, “but what's his + game, I wonder. He will bear watching.” + </p> + <p> + The very next day Maitland made a close inspection of his plant, beginning + with the sawmill. He found McNish running one of the larger circular saws, + and none too deftly. He stood observing the man for some moments in + silence. Then stepping to the workman's side he said, + </p> + <p> + “You will save time, I think, if you do it this way.” He seized the levers + and, eliminating an unnecessary movement, ran the log. McNish stood calmly + observing. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, yere r-right,” he said. “Ye'll have done yon before.” + </p> + <p> + “You just bet I have,” said Maitland, not a little pleased with himself. + </p> + <p> + “A'm no saw man,” said McNish, a little sullenly. “A dinna ken—I + don't know saws of this sort. I'm a joiner. He put me off the bench.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” said Maitland quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Yon manny,” replied McNish with unmistakable disgust. + </p> + <p> + “You were on the bench, eh? What sort of work were you on?” + </p> + <p> + “A was daein' a bit counter work. A wasna fast enough for him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maitland called the head sawyer. + </p> + <p> + “Put a man on here for a while, Powell, will you? You come with me, + McNish.” + </p> + <p> + Together they went into the planing mill. Asking for the foreman he found + that he was nowhere to be seen, that indeed he had not been in the mill + that morning. + </p> + <p> + “Show me your work, McNish,” he said. + </p> + <p> + McNish led him to a corner of the mill where some fine counter work was in + process. + </p> + <p> + “That's my work,” he said, pointing to a piece of oak railing. + </p> + <p> + Maitland, turning the work over in his hands, ran his finger along a joint + somewhat clumsily fitted. + </p> + <p> + “Not that,” said McNish hastily. “Ma work stops here.” + </p> + <p> + Again Maitland examined the rail. His experienced eye detected easily the + difference in the workmanship. + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything else of yours about here?” he asked. McNish went to a + pile of finished work and from it selected a small swing door beautifully + panelled. Maitland's eye gleamed. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that's better,” he said. “Yes, that's better.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to one of the workmen at the bench near by. + </p> + <p> + “What job is this, Gibbon?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It's the Bank job, I think,” said Gibbon. + </p> + <p> + “What? The Merchants' Bank job? Surely that can't be. That job was due two + weeks ago.” Maitland turned impatiently toward an older man. “Ellis,” he + said sharply, “do you know what job this is?” + </p> + <p> + Ellis came and turned over the different parts of the work. + </p> + <p> + “That's the Merchants' Bank job, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Then what is holding this up?” enquired Maitland wrathfully. + </p> + <p> + “It's the turned work, I think, sir. I am not sure, but I think I heard + Mr. Perrotte asking about that two or three days ago.” Mr. Maitland's lips + met in a thin straight line. + </p> + <p> + “You can go back to your saw, McNish,” he said shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir,” said McNish, his tone indicating quiet satisfaction. At + Gibbon's bench he paused. “Ye'll no pit onything past him, a doot,” he + said, with a grim smile, and passed out. + </p> + <p> + In every part of the shop Mr. Maitland found similar examples of + mismanagement and lack of co-ordination in the various departments of the + work. It needed no more than a cursory inspection to convince him that a + change of foreman was a simple necessity. Everywhere he found not only + evidence of waste of time but also of waste of material. It cut him to the + heart to see beautiful wood mangled and ruined. All his life he had worked + with woods of different kinds. He knew them standing in all their + matchless grandeur, in the primeval forest and had followed them step by + step all the way to the finished product. Never without a heart pang did + he witness a noble white pine, God's handiwork of centuries, come crashing + to earth through the meaner growth beneath the chopper's axe. The only + thing that redeemed such a deed from sacrilege, in his mind, was to see + the tree fittingly transformed into articles of beauty and worth suitable + for man's use. Hence, when he saw lying here and there deformed and + disfigured fragments of the exquisitely grained white spruce, which during + the war, he had with such care selected for his aeroplane parts, his very + heart rose in indignant wrath. And filled with this wrath he made his way + to the office and straightway summoned Wickes and his son Jack to + conference. + </p> + <p> + “Tony will never make a worker in wood. He cares nothing for it,” he said + bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “Nor in anything else, Dad,” said Jack, with a little laugh. + </p> + <p> + “You laugh, but it is no laughing matter,” said his father reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, Father, but you know I always thought it was a mistake to put + Tony in charge of anything. Why, he might have had his commission if he + were not such an irresponsible, downwright lazy beggar. What he needs, as + my Colonel used to profanely say, is 'a good old-fashioned Sergeant-Major + to knock hell out of him'. And, believe me, Tony was a rattling fine + soldier if his officer would regularly, systematically and effectively + expel his own special devil from his system. He needs that still.” + </p> + <p> + “What can we do with him? I simply can't and won't dismiss him, as that + infernally efficient and coolheaded Scot demands. You heard about the + Grievance Committee?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the town has the story with embellishments. Rupert Stillwell took + care to give me a picturesque account. But I would not hesitate, Dad. Kick + Tony a good swift kick once a week or so, or, if that is beneath your + dignity, fire him.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Jack, lad, we can't do that,” said his father, greatly distressed, + “after what—” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? He carried me out of that hell all right, and while I live I + shall remember that. But he is a selfish beggar. He hasn't the instinct + for team play. He hasn't the idea of responsibility for the team. He gets + so that he can not make himself do what he just doesn't feel like doing. + He doesn't care a tinker's curse for the other fellows in the game with + him.” + </p> + <p> + “The man that doesn't care for other fellows will never make a foreman,” + said Mr. Maitland decisively. “But can't something be done with him?” + </p> + <p> + “There's only one way to handle Tony,” said Jack. “I learned that long ago + in school. He was a prince of half-backs, you know, but I had regularly to + kick him about before every big match. Oh, Tony is a fine sort but he + nearly broke my heart till I nearly broke his back.” + </p> + <p> + “That does not help much, Jack.” For the first time in his life Grant + Maitland was at a loss as to how he should handle one of his men. Were it + not for the letter in the desk at his hand he would have made short work + of Tony Perrotte. But there the letter lay and in his heart the inerasible + picture it set forth. + </p> + <p> + “What is the special form that Tony's devilment has taken, may I ask?” + enquired Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I may say to you, what Wickes knows and has known and has tried for + three months to hide from me and from himself, Tony has made about as + complete a mess of the organization under his care in the planing mill as + can be imagined. The mill is strewn with the wreckage of unfulfilled + orders. He has no sense of time value. To-morrow is as good as to-day, + next week as this week. A foreman without a sense of time value is no + good. And he does not value material. Waste to him is nothing. Another + fatal defect. The man to whom minutes are not potential gold and material + potential product can never hope to be a manufacturer. If only I had not + been away from home! But the thing is, what is to be done?” + </p> + <p> + “In the words of a famous statesman much abused indeed, I suggest, 'Wait + and see.' Meantime, find some way of kicking him into his job.” + </p> + <p> + This proved to be in the present situation a policy of wisdom. It was Tony + himself who furnished the solution. From the men supposed to be working + under his orders he learned the day following Maitland's visit of + inspection something of the details of that visit. He quickly made up his + mind that the day of reckoning could not long be postponed. None knew + better than Tony himself that he was no foreman; none so well that he + loathed the job which had been thrust upon him by the father of the man + whom he had carried out from the very mouth of hell. It was something to + his credit that he loathed himself for accepting the position. Yet, with + irresponsible procrastination, he put off the day of reckoning. But, some + ten days later, and after a night with some kindred spirits of his own + Battalion, a night prolonged into the early hours of the working day, Tony + presented himself at the office, gay, reckless, desperate, but quite + compos mentis and quite master of his means of locomotion. + </p> + <p> + He appeared in the outer office, still in his evening garb. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wickes,” he said in solemn gravity, “please have your stenographer + take this letter.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wickes, aghast, strove to hush his vibrant tones, indicating in + excited pantomime the presence of the chief in the inner office. He might + as effectively have striven to stay the East wind at that time sweeping up + the valley. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ready, my dear?” said Tony, smiling pleasantly at the girl. “All + right, proceed. 'Dear Mr. Maitland:' Got that? 'Conscious of my unfitness + for the position of foreman in—'” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush, Tony,” implored Mr. Wickes. + </p> + <p> + Tony waved him aside. + </p> + <p> + “What have you got, eh?” + </p> + <p> + At that point the door opened and Grant Maitland stepped into the office. + Tony rose to his feet and, bowing with elaborate grace and dignity, he + addressed his chief. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you, in fact, I wanted to see you but + wishing to save your time I was in the very act of dictating a + communication to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, Tony?” said Mr. Maitland gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I was on the point of dictating my resignation of my position + of foreman.” + </p> + <p> + “Step in to the office, Tony,” said Mr. Maitland kindly and sadly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't wish to take your time, sir,” said Tony, sobered and quieted by + Mr. Maitland's manner, “but my mind is quite made up. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” said Mr. Maitland, in a voice of quiet command, throwing open + his office door. “I wish to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly, sir,” answered Tony, pulling himself together with an all + too obvious effort. + </p> + <p> + In half an hour Tony came forth, a sober and subdued man. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, Wickes,” he said, “I'm off.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Tony?” enquired Wickes, startled at the look on + Tony's face. + </p> + <p> + “To hell,” he snapped, “where such fools as me belong,” and, jamming his + hat hard down on his head, he went forth. + </p> + <p> + In another minute Mr. Maitland appeared at the office door. + </p> + <p> + “Wickes,” he said sharply, “put on your hat and get Jack for me. Bring + him, no matter what he's at. That young fool who has just gone out must be + looked after. The boot-leggers have been taking him in tow. If I had only + known sooner. Did you know, Wickes, how he has been going on? Why didn't + you report to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I hesitated to do that, sir,” putting his desk in order. “I always + expected as how he would pull up. It's his company, sir. He is not so much + to blame.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he would not take anything I had to offer. He is wild to get away. + And unfortunately he has some money with him, too. But get Jack for me. He + can handle him if anybody can.” + </p> + <p> + Sorely perplexed Mr. Maitland returned to his office. His business sense + pointed the line of action with sunlight clearness. His sense of justice + to the business for which he was responsible as well as to the men in his + employ no less clearly indicated the action demanded. His sane judgment + concurred in the demand of his men for the dismissal of his foreman. + Dismissal had been rendered unnecessary by Tony's unshakable resolve to + resign his position which he declared he loathed and which he should never + have accepted. His perplexity arose from the confusion within himself. + What should he do with Tony? He had no position in his works or in the + office for which he was fit. None knew this better than Tony himself. + </p> + <p> + “It's a joke, Mr. Maitland,” he had declared, “a ghastly joke. Everybody + knows it's a joke, that I should be in command of any man when I can't + command myself. Besides, I can't stick it.” In this resolve he had + persisted in spite of Mr. Maitland's entreaties that he should give the + thing another try, promising him all possible guidance and backing. But + entreaties and offers of assistance had been in vain. Tony was wild to get + away from the mill. He hated the grind. He wanted his freedom. Vainly Mr. + Maitland had offered to find another position for him somewhere, somehow. + </p> + <p> + “We'll find a place in the office for you,” he had pleaded. “I want to see + you get on, Tony. I want to see you make good.” + </p> + <p> + But Tony was beyond all persuasion. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't in me,” he had declared. “Not if you gave me the whole works + could I stick it.” + </p> + <p> + “Take a few days to think it over,” Mr. Maitland had pleaded. + </p> + <p> + “I know myself—only too well. Ask Jack, he knows,” was Tony's bitter + answer. “And that's final.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Tony, it is not final,” had been Mr. Maitland's last word, as Tony + had left him. + </p> + <p> + But after the young man had left him there still remained the unsolved + question, What was he to do with Tony? In Mr. Maitland's heart was the + firm resolve that he would not allow Tony to go his own way. The letter in + the desk at his hand forbade that. + </p> + <p> + At his wits' end he had sent for Jack. Jack had made a football half-back + and a hockey forward out of Tony when everyone else had failed. If anyone + could divert him from that desperate downward course to which he seemed + headlong bent, it was Jack. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes Wickes returned with the report that on receiving an + account of what had happened Jack had gone to look up Tony. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maitland drew a breath of relief. + </p> + <p> + “Tony is all right for to-day,” he said, turning to his work and leaving + the problem for the meantime to Jack. + </p> + <p> + In an hour Jack reported that he had been to the Perrotte home and had + interviewed Tony's mother. From her he had learned that Tony had left the + town, barely catching the train to Toronto. He might not return for a week + or ten days. He could set no time for it. He was his own master as to + time. He had got to the stage where he could go and come pretty much as he + pleased. The mother was not at all concerned as to these goings and + comings of her son. He had an assured position, all cause for anxiety in + regard to him was at an end. Tony's mother was obviously not a little + uplifted that her son should be of sufficient importance to be entrusted + with business in Toronto in connection with the mill. + </p> + <p> + All of which tended little toward relieving the anxiety of Mr. Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “Let him take his swing, Dad, for a bit,” was Jack's advice. “He will come + back when he is ready, and until then wild horses won't bring him nor hold + him. He is no good for his old job, and you have no other ready that he + will stick at. He has no Sergeant-Major now to knock him about and make + him keep step, more's the pity.” + </p> + <p> + “Life will be his Sergeant-Major, I fear,” said his father, “and a + Sergeant-Major that will exact the utmost limit of obedience or make him + pay the price. All the same, we won't let him go. I can't Jack, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Tony will turn up, never fear, Dad,” said Jack easily. + </p> + <p> + With this assurance his father had to content himself. In a fortnight's + time a letter came from Tony to his sister, rosy with the brilliance of + the prospects opening up before him. There was the usual irresponsible + indefiniteness in detail. What he was doing and how he was living Tony did + not deign to indicate. Ten days later Annette had another letter. The + former prospects had not been realised, but he had a much better thing in + view, something more suitable to him, and offering larger possibilities of + position and standing in the community. So much Annette confided to her + mother who passed on the great news with elaborations and annotations to + Captain Jack. To Captain Jack himself Annette gave little actual + information. Indeed, shorn of its element of prophecy, there was little in + Tony's letter that could be passed on. Nor did Annette drop any hint but + that all was quite well with her brother, much less that he had suggested + a temporary loan of fifty dollars but only of course if she could spare + the amount with perfect convenience. After this letter there was silence + as far as Tony was concerned and for Annette anxiety that deepened into + agony as the silence remained unbroken with the passing weeks. + </p> + <p> + With the anxiety there mingled in Annette's heart anger at the Maitlands, + for she blamed them for Tony's dismissal from his position. This, it is + fair to say, was a reflection from her mother's wrath, whose mind had been + filled up with rumours from the mills to the effect that her son had been + “fired.” Annette was wise enough and knew her brother well enough to + discredit much that rumour brought to her ears, but she could not rid + herself of the thought that a way might have been found to hold Tony about + the mills. + </p> + <p> + “He fired the boy, did the ould carmudgeon,” said Madame Perrotte in one + of her rages, “and druv him off from the town.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Mother,” Annette had replied, “you know well enough Tony left + of his own accord. Why should you shame him so? He went because he wanted + to go.” + </p> + <p> + This was a new light upon the subject for her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Thrue for you, Annette, gurl,” she said, “an' ye said it that time. But + why for did he not induce the bye to remain? It would be little enough if + he had made him the Manager of the hull works. That same would never pay + back what he did for his son.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Mother,” said Annette, in a shocked and angry voice, “let no one + hear you speak like that. Pay back! You know, Mother, nothing could ever + pay back a thing like that.” The anger in her daughter's voice startled + the mother. + </p> + <p> + “Oui! by gar!” said Perrotte, who had overheard, with quick wrath. “Dat's + foolish talk for sure! Dere's no man can spik lak dat to me, or I choke + him on his fool t'roat, me.” + </p> + <p> + “Right you are, mon pere!” said Annette appeasing her father. “Mother did + not think what she was saying.” + </p> + <p> + “Dat's no bon,” replied Perrotte, refusing to be appeased. “Sacre + tonnerre! Dat's one—what you call?—damfool speech. Dat boy + Tony he's carry (h)on hees back his friend, le Capitaine Jack, an' le + Capitaine, he's go five mile for fin' Tony on' de shell hole an' fetch + heem to le docteur and stay wit' him till he's fix (h)up. Nom de Dieu! You + pay for dat! Mama! You mak' shame for me on my heart!” cried the old + Frenchman, beating his breast, while sobs shook his voice. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + FREE SPEECH + </h3> + <p> + Fifty years ago Blackwater town was a sawmill village on the Blackwater + River which furnished the power for the first little sawmill set up by + Grant Maitland's father. + </p> + <p> + Down the river came the sawlogs in the early spring when the water was + high, to be caught and held by a “boom” in a pond from which they were + hauled up a tramway to the saw. A quarter of a mile up stream a mill race, + tapping the river, led the water to an “overshot wheel” in the early days, + later to a turbine, thus creating the power necessary to drive the mill + machinery. When the saw was still the water overflowed the “stop-logs” by + the “spillway” into the pond below. + </p> + <p> + But that mill race furnished more than power to the mill. It furnished + besides much colourful romance to the life of the village youth of those + early days. For down the mill race they ran their racing craft, jostling + and screaming, urging with long poles their laggard flotillas to victory. + The pond by the mill was to the boys “swimming hole” and fishing pool, + where, during the long summer evenings and through the sunny summer days, + they spent amphibious hours in high and serene content. But in springtime + when the pond was black with floating logs it became the scene of + thrilling deeds of daring. For thither came the lumber-jacks, fresh from + “the shanties,” in their dashing, multi-colored garb, to “show off” before + admiring friends and sweethearts their skill in “log-running” and + “log-rolling” contests which as the spirit of venture grew would end like + as not in the icy waters of the pond. + </p> + <p> + Here, too, on brilliant winter days the life of the village found its + centre of vivid interest and activity. For then the pond would be a black + and glittering surface whereon wheeled and curved the ringing, gleaming + blades of “fancy” skaters or whereon in sterner hours opposing “shinny” + teams sought glory in Homeric and often gory contest. + </p> + <p> + But those days and those scenes were now long since gone. The old mill + stood a picturesque ruin, the water wheel had given place to the steam + engine, the pond had shrunk to an insignificant pool where only pollywogs + and minnows passed unadventurous lives, the mill race had dwindled to a + trickling stream grown thick with watercress and yellow lilies, and what + had once been the centre of vigorous and romantic life was now a back + water eddy devoid alike of movement and of colour. + </p> + <p> + A single bit of life remained—the little log cottage, once the + Manager's house a quarter of a century ago, still stood away up among the + pines behind the old mill ruin and remote from the streets and homes of + the present town. At the end of a little grassy lane it stood, solid and + square, resisting with its well hewn pinelogs the gnawing tooth of time. + Abandoned by the growing town, forgotten by the mill owner, it was + re-discovered by Malcolm McNish, or rather by his keen eyed old mother on + their arrival from the old land six months ago. For a song McNish bought + the solid little cottage, he might have had it as a gift but that he would + not, restored its roof, cleared out its stone chimney which, more than + anything else, had caught the mother's eye, re-set the window panes, added + a wee cunning porch, gave its facings a coat of paint, enclosed its bit of + flower garden in front and its “kale yaird” in the rear with a rustic + paling, and made it, when the Summer had done its work, a bonnie homelike + spot which caught the eye and held the heart of the passer-by. + </p> + <p> + The interior more than fulfilled the promise of the exterior. The big + living room with its great stone fireplace welcomed you on opening the + porch door. From the living room on the right led two doors, each giving + entrance to a tiny bedroom and flanking a larger room known as “the Room.” + </p> + <p> + Within the living room were gathered the household treasures, the Lares + and Penates of the little stone rose-covered cottage “at hame awa' ayont + the sea.” On the mantel a solid hewn log of oak, a miracle of broad-axe + work, were “bits o' chiny” rarely valuable as antiques to the knowing + connoisseur but beyond price to the old white-haired lady who daily dusted + them with reverent care as having been borne by her mother from the + Highland home in the far north country when as a bride she came by the + “cadger's cairt” to her new home in the lonely city of Glasgow. Of that + Glasgow home and of her own home later the walls of the log cottage were + eloquent. + </p> + <p> + The character giving bit of furniture, however, in the living room was a + book-case that stood in a corner. Its beautiful inlaid cabinet work would + in itself have attracted attention, but not the case but the books were + its distinction. The great English poets were represented there in + serviceable bindings showing signs of use, Shakespeare, Wordsworth, + Coleridge, Browning, Keats, and with them in various editions, Burns. + Beside the poets Robert Louis had a place, and Sir Walter, as well as + Kipling and Meredith and other moderns. But on the shelf that showed most + wear were to be found the standard works of economists of different + schools from the great Adam Smith to Marx and the lot of his imitators and + disciples. This was Malcolm's book-case. There was in another corner near + the fire-place a little table and above it hung a couple of shelves for + books of another sort, the Bible and The Westminster Confession, Bunyan + and Baxter and Fox's Book of Martyrs, Rutherford and McCheyne and Law, The + Ten Years' Conflict, Spurgeon's Sermons and Smith's Isaiah, and a well + worn copy of the immortal Robbie. This was the mother's corner, a cosy + spot where she nourished her soul by converse with the great masters of + thought and of conscience. + </p> + <p> + In this “cosy wee hoosie” Malcolm McNish and his mother passed their quiet + evenings, for the days were given to toil, in talk, not to say discussion + of the problems, the rights and wrongs of the working man. They agreed in + much; they differed, and strongly, in point of view. The mother was all + for reform of wrongs with the existing economic system, reverencing the + great Adam Smith. The son was for a new deal, a new system, the + Socialistic, with modifications all his own. All, or almost all, that + Malcolm had read the mother had read with the exception of Marx. She + “cudna thole yon godless loon” or his theories or his works. Malcolm had + grown somewhat sick of Marx since the war. Indeed, the war had seriously + disturbed the foundations of Malcolm's economic faith, and he was seeking + a readjustment of his opinion and convictions, which were rather at loose + ends. In this state of mind he found little comfort from his shrewd old + mother. + </p> + <p> + “Y'e have nae anchor, laddie, and ilka woof of air and ilka turn o' the + tide and awa' ye go.” + </p> + <p> + As for her anchor, she made no bones of announcing that she had been + brought up on the Shorter Catechism and the Confession and in consequence + found a place for every theory of hers, Social and Economic as well as + Ethical and Religious, within the four corners of the mighty fabric of the + Calvinistic system of Philosophy and Faith. + </p> + <p> + One of the keen joys of her life since coming to the new country she found + in her discussions with the Rev. Murdo Matheson, whom, after some + considerable hesitation, she had finally chosen to “sit under.” The Rev. + Murdo's theology was a little narrow for her. She had been trained in the + schools of the Higher Critics of the Free Kirk leaders at home. She talked + familiarly of George Adam Smith, whom she affectionately designated as + “George Adam.” She would wax wrathful over the memory of the treatment + meted out to Robertson Smith by a former generation of Free Kirk heresy + hunters. Hence she regarded with pity the hesitation with which her + Minister accepted some of the positions of the Higher Critics. Although it + is to be confessed that the war had somewhat rudely shattered her devotion + to German theology. + </p> + <p> + “What d'ye think o' yere friend Harnack the noo?” her son had jibed at her + soon after the appearance of the great manifesto from the German + professors. + </p> + <p> + “What do A think o' him?” she answered, sparring for time. “What do A + think o' him?” Then, as her eye ran over her son's uniform, for he was on + leave at the time, she blazed forth, “A'll tell ye what A think o' him. A + think that Auld Hornie has his hook intil him and the hale kaboodle o' + them. They hae forsaken God and made tae themselves ither gods and the + Almichty hae gi'en them ower tae a reprobate mind.” + </p> + <p> + But her Canadian Minister's economic positions satisfied her. He had + specialised in Social and Economic Science in his University Course and + she considered him sound “in the main.” + </p> + <p> + She had little patience with half baked theorists and none at all with + mere agitators. It was therefore with no small indignation that she saw on + a Sunday morning Mr. Wigglesworth making his way up the lane toward her + house door. + </p> + <p> + “The Lord be guid tae us!” she exclaimed. “What brings yon cratur here—and + on a Sabbath mornin'? Mind you, Malcolm,” she continued in a voice of + sharp decision, “A'll hae nane o' his 'rights o' British citizens' clack + the morn.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is it, Mother?” enquired her son, coming from his room to look out + through the window. “Oh, dinna fash ye're heid ower yon windbag,” he + added, dropping into his broadest Doric and patting his mother on the + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “He disna fash me,” said his mother. “Nae fears. But A'll no pairmit him + to brak the Sabbath in this hoose, A can tell ye.” None the less she + opened the door to Mr. Wigglesworth with dignified courtesy. + </p> + <p> + “Guid mornin', Mr. Wigglesworth,” she said cordially. “Ye're airly on yere + way tae the Kirk.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—that is—yes,” replied Mr. Wigglesworth in some confusion, + “I am a bit (h)early. Fact is, I was (h)anxious to catch Malcolm before 'e + went aht. I 'ave a rather (h)important business on 'and with 'im, very + (h)important business, I might say.” + </p> + <p> + “'Business,' did ye say, Mr. Wigglesworth?” Mrs. McNish stood facing him + at the door. “Business! On the Lord's Day?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wigglesworth gaped at her, hat in hand. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mrs. McNish, not (h)exactly business. That is,” he said with an + apologetic smile, “(h)it depends, you see, just w'at yeh puts (h)into a + word, Mrs. McNish.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wigglesworth's head went over to one side as if in contemplation of a + new and striking idea. + </p> + <p> + “A pit nae meaning into a word that's no in it on its ain accoont,” she + replied with uncompromising grimness. “Business is just business, an' my + son diz nae business on the Lord's Day.” + </p> + <p> + There was no place for casuistry in the old Scotch lady's mind. A thing + was or was not, and there was an end to that. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Mrs. McNish, certainly! And so sez I. But there might be a + slight difference of (h)opinion between you and I, so to speak, as to just + w'at may constitute 'business.' Now, for (h)instance—” Mr. + Wigglesworth was warming to his subject, but the old lady standing on her + doorstep fixed her keen blue eyes upon him and ruthlessly swept away all + argumentation on the matter. + </p> + <p> + “If it is a matter consistent with the Lord's Day, come in; if not, stay + oot.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Yes, thank you. By the way, is your son in, by (h)any chance? + Per'raps 'e's shavin' 'isself, eh?” Mr. Wigglesworth indulged in a nervous + giggle. + </p> + <p> + “Shavin' himsel!” exclaimed Mrs. McNish. “On the Sawbath! Man, d'ye think + he's a heathen, then?” Mrs. McNish regarded the man before her with + severity. + </p> + <p> + “An 'eathen? Not me! I should consider it an 'eathenish practice to go + dirty of a Sunday,” said Mr. Wigglesworth triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + “Hoots, man, wha's talkin' about gaein' dirty? Can ye no mak due + preparation on the Saturday? What is yere Saturday for?” + </p> + <p> + This was a new view to Mr. Wigglesworth and rather abashed him. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Mother?” Malcolm's voice indicated a desire to appease the + wrath that gleamed in his mother's eye. “Oh, it is Mr. Wigglesworth. Yes, + yes! I want to see Mr. Wigglesworth. Will you come in, Mr. Wigglesworth?” + </p> + <p> + “Malcolm, A was jist tellin' Mr. Wigglesworth—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I know, Mother, but I want—” + </p> + <p> + “Malcolm, ye ken what day it is. And A wull not—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mother, A ken weel, but—” + </p> + <p> + “And ye ken ye'll be settin' oot for the Kirk in half an oor—” + </p> + <p> + “Half an hour, Mother? Why, it is only half past nine—” + </p> + <p> + “A ken weel what it is. But A dinna like tae be fashed and flustered in ma + mind on ma way till the Hoose o' God.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall only require a very few moments, Madam,” said Mr. Wigglesworth. + “The matter with w'ich I am (h)entrusted need not take more than a minute + or two. In fact, I simply want to (h)announce a special, a very special + meetin' of the Union this (h)afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “A releegious meetin', Mr. Wigglesworth?” enquired Mrs. McNish. + </p> + <p> + “Well—not exactly—that is—I don't know but you might + call it a religious meetin'. To my mind, Mrs. McNish, you know—” + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. McNish would have no sophistry. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wigglesworth,” she began sternly. + </p> + <p> + But Malcolm cut in. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mother, I suppose it's a regular enough meeting. Just wait till I + get my hat, Mr. Wigglesworth. I'll be with you.” + </p> + <p> + His mother followed him into the house, leaving Mr. Wigglesworth at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Malcolm,” she began with solemn emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Now, now, Mother, surely you know me well enough by this time to trust my + judgment in a matter of this kind,” said her son, hurriedly searching for + his hat. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but A'm no sae sure o' yon buddie—” + </p> + <p> + “Hoot, toot,” said her son, passing out. “A'll be back in abundant time + for the Kirk, Mither. Never you fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Weel, weel, laddie, remember what day it is. Ye ken weel it's no day for + warldly amusement.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, Mither,” replied her son, smiling a little at the associating of Mr. + Wigglesworth with amusement of any sort on any day. + </p> + <p> + In abundance of time Malcolm was ready to allow a quiet, unhurried walk + with his mother which would bring them to the church a full quarter of an + hour before the hour of service. + </p> + <p> + It happened that the Rev. Murdo was on a congenial theme and in specially + good form that morning. + </p> + <p> + “How much better is a man than a sheep,” was his text, from which with + great ingenuity and eloquence he proceeded to develop the theme of the + supreme value of the human factor in modern life, social and industrial. + With great cogency he pressed the argument against the inhuman and + degrading view that would make man a mere factor in the complex problem of + Industrial Finance, a mere inanimate cog in the Industrial Machine. + </p> + <p> + “What did you think of the sermon, Mother?” asked Malcolm as they entered + the quiet lane leading home. + </p> + <p> + “No sae bad, laddie, no sae bad. Yon's an able laddie, especially on + practical themes. Ay, it was no that bad,” replied his mother with + cautious approval. + </p> + <p> + “What about his view of the Sabbath?” + </p> + <p> + “What about it? Wad ye no lift a sheep oot o' the muck on the Sawbath?” + </p> + <p> + “A would, of course,” replied Malcolm. + </p> + <p> + “Weel, what?” + </p> + <p> + “A was jist thinkin' o' Mr. Wigglesworth this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Yon man!” + </p> + <p> + “You were rather hard on him this morning', eh, Mither?” + </p> + <p> + “Hard on him? He's no a sheep, nor in some ways as guid's a sheep, A grant + ye that, but such as he is was it no ma duty to pull him oot o' the mire + o' Sawbath desecration and general ungodliness?” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, Mither, Mither! Ye're incorrigible! Ye ought to come to the meeting + this afternoon and give them all a lug out.” + </p> + <p> + “A wull that then,” said his mother heartily. “They need it, A doot.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoots! Nonsense, Mither!” said her son hastily, knowing well how + thoroughly capable she was of not only going to a meeting of Union workers + but also of speaking her mind if in her judgment they were guilty of + transgressing the Sabbath law. “The meeting will be just as religious as + Mr. Matheson's anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “A'm no sae sure,” said his mother grimly. + </p> + <p> + Whether religious in the sense understood by Mrs. McNish, the meeting was + not wanting in ethical interest or human passion. It was a gathering of + the workers in the various industries in the town, Trade Unionists most of + them, but with a considerable number who had never owed allegiance to any + Union and a number of disgruntled ex-Unionists. These latter were very + vociferous and for the most part glib talkers, with passions that under + the slightest pressure spurted foaming to the surface. Returned soldiers + there were who had taken on their old jobs but who had not yet settled + down into the colourless routine of mill and factory work under the + discipline of those who often knew little of the essentials of discipline + as these men knew them. A group of French-Canadian factory hands, taken on + none too willingly in the stress of war work, constituted an element of + friction, for the soldiers despised and hated them. With these there + mingled new immigrants from the shipyards and factories of the Old Land, + all members or ex-members of Trade Unions, Socialists in training and + doctrine, familiar with the terminology and jargon of those Socialistic + debating schools, the Local Unions of England and Scotland, alert, keen, + ready of wit and ready of tongue, rejoicing in wordy, passionate debate, + ready for anything, fearing nothing. + </p> + <p> + The occasion of the meeting was the presence of a great International + Official of the American Federation of Labour, and its purpose to + strengthen International Unionism against the undermining of guerilla + bands of non-Unionists and very especially against the new organizations + emanating from the far West, the One Big Union. + </p> + <p> + At the door of the hall stood Mr. Wigglesworth, important, fussy and + unctuously impressive, welcoming, directing, introducing and, incidentally + but quite ineffectively, seeking to inspire with respect for his august + person a nondescript crowd of small boys vainly seeking entrance. With an + effusiveness amounting to reverence he welcomed McNish and directed him in + a mysterious whisper toward a seat on the platform, which, however, McNish + declined, choosing a seat at the side about half way up the aisle. + </p> + <p> + A local Union official was addressing the meeting but saying nothing in + particular, and simply filling in till the main speaker should arrive. + McNish, quite uninterested in the platform, was quietly taking note of the + audience, with many of whom he had made a slight acquaintance. As his eye + travelled slowly from face to face it was suddenly arrested. There beside + her father was Annette Perrotte, who greeted him with a bright nod and + smile. They had long ago made up their tiff. Then McNish had another + surprise. At the door of the hall appeared Captain Jack Maitland who, + after coolly surveying the room, sauntered down the aisle and took a seat + at his side. He nodded to McNish. + </p> + <p> + “Quite a crowd, McNish,” he said. “I hear the American Johnnie is quite a + spouter so I came along to hear.” + </p> + <p> + McNish looked at him and silently nodded. He could not understand his + presence at that kind of a meeting. + </p> + <p> + “You know I am a Union man now,” said Captain Jack, accurately reading his + silence. “Joined a couple of months ago.” + </p> + <p> + But McNish kept his face gravely non-committal, wondering how it was that + this important bit of news had not reached him. Then he remembered that he + had not attended the last two monthly meetings of his Union, and also he + knew that little gossip of the shops came his way. None the less, he was + intensely interested in Maitland's appearance. He did Captain Jack the + justice to acquit him of anything but the most honourable intentions, yet + he could not make clear to his mind what end the son of his boss could + serve by joining a Labour Union. He finally came to the conclusion that + this was but another instance of an “Intellectual” studying the social and + economic side of Industry from first-hand observation. It was a common + enough thing in the Old Land. He was conscious of a little contempt for + this dilettante sort of Labour Unionism, and he was further conscious of a + feeling of impatience and embarrassment at Captain Jack's presence. He + belonged to the enemy camp, and what right had he there? From looks cast + in their direction it was plain that others were asking the same question. + His thought received a sudden and unexpected exposition from the platform + from no less a person than Mr. Wigglesworth himself to whom as one of the + oldest officials in Unionised Labour in the town had been given the honour + of introducing the distinguished visitor and delegate. + </p> + <p> + In flowing periods and with a reckless but wholly unauthorised employment + of aspirates he “welcomed the (h)audience, (h)especially the ladies, and + other citizens among 'oom 'e was delighted to (h)observe a representative + of the (h)employing class 'oo was for the present 'e believed one of + themselves.” To his annoyed embarrassment Captain Jack found himself the + observed of many eyes, friendly and otherwise. “But 'e would assure + Captain Maitland that although 'e might feel as if 'e 'ad no right to be + 'ere—” + </p> + <p> + “'Ere! 'Ere!” came a piercing voice in unmistakable approval, galvanising + the audience out of its apathy into instant emotional intensity. + </p> + <p> + “(H)I want most (h)emphatically to (h)assure Captain Maitland,” continued + Mr. Wigglesworth, frowning heavily upon the interrupter, “that 'e is as + welcome—” + </p> + <p> + “No! No!” cried the same Cockney voice, followed by a slight rumbling + applause. + </p> + <p> + “I say 'e is,” shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, supported by hesitating applause. + </p> + <p> + “No! No! We don't want no toffs 'ere.” This was followed by more definite + applause from the group immediately surrounding the speaker. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wigglesworth was much affronted and proceeded to administer a rebuke + to the interrupter. + </p> + <p> + “I (h)am surprised,” he began, with grieved and solemn emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman,” said the owner of the Cockney voice, rising to his feet + and revealing himself a small man with large head and thin wizened + features, “Mr. Chairman, I rise to protest right 'ere an' naow against the + presence of (h)any representative of the (h)enemy class at—” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, shut up!” yelled a soldier, rising from his place. “Throw out the + little rat!” + </p> + <p> + Immediately there was uproar. On every side returned soldiers, many of + whom had been in Captain Jack's battalion, sprang up and began moving + toward the little Cockney who, boldly standing his ground, was wildly + appealing to the chair and was supported by the furious cheering of a + group of his friends, Old Country men most of whom, as it turned out, were + of the extreme Socialist type. By this time it had fully been borne in + upon Captain Jack's mind, somewhat dazed by the unexpected attack, that he + was the occasion of the uproar. Rising from his place he tried vainly to + catch the Chairman's attention. + </p> + <p> + “Come up to the platform,” said a voice in his ear. He turned and saw + McNish shouldering his way through the excited crowd toward the front. + After a moment's hesitation he shrugged his shoulders and followed. The + move caught the eye and apparently the approval of the audience, for it + broke into cheers which gathered in volume till by the time that McNish + and Captain Jack stood on the platform the great majority were wildly + yelling their enthusiastic approval of their action. McNish stood with his + hand raised for a hearing. Almost instantly there fell a silence intense + and expectant. The Scotchman stood looking in the direction of the excited + Cockney with cold steady eye. + </p> + <p> + “A'm for freedom! The right of public assembly! A'm feart o' nae enemy, + not the deevil himself. This gentleman is a member of my Union and he + stays r-r-right he-e-r-re.” With a rasping roll of his r's he seemed to be + ripping the skin off the little Cockney's very flesh. The response was a + yell of savage cheers which seemed to rock the building and which + continued while Mr. Wigglesworth in overflowing effusiveness first shook + Maitland's limp hand in a violent double-handed pump handle exercise and + then proceeded to introduce him to the distinguished visitor, shouting his + name in Maitland's ear, “Mr 'Oward (H)E. Bigelow,” adding with a sudden + inspiration, “(H)Introduce 'im to the (h)audience. Yes! Yes! Most + (h)assuredly,” and continued pushing both men toward the front of the + platform, the demonstration increasing in violence. + </p> + <p> + “I say, old chap,” shouted Captain Jack in the stranger's ear, “I feel + like a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel like a dozen of 'em,” shouted Mr. Bigelow in return. “But,” he + added with a slow wink, “this old fool is the daddy of 'em all. Go on, + introduce me, or they'll bust something loose.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jack took one step to the front of the platform and held up his + hand. The cheering assumed an even greater violence, then ceased in sudden + breathless silence. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a slightly bored voice, “this gentleman + is Mr. Howard E. Bigelow, a representative of the American Federation of + Labour, whom as a member of the Woodworkers' Union, Local 197, I am + anxious to hear if you don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed to the visitor, bowed to the audience once more swaying under a + tempest of cheers, and, followed by McNish, made his way to his seat. + </p> + <p> + From the first moment of his speech Mr. Howard E. Bigelow had to fight for + a hearing. The little Cockney was the centre of a well-organised and + thoroughly competent body of obstructers who by clever “heckling,” by + points of order, by insistent questioning, by playing now upon the + anti-American string, now upon the anti-Federation string, by ribald + laughter, by cheering a happy criticism, completely checked every attempt + of the speaker to take flight in his oratory. The International official + was evidently an old hand in this sort of game, but in the hands of these + past masters in the art of obstruction he met more than his match. + Maitland was amazed at his patience, his self-control, his adroitness, but + they were all in vain. At last he was forced to appeal to the Chairman for + British fair play. But the Chairman was helplessly futile and his futility + was only emphasised by Mr. Wigglesworth's attempts now at browbeating + which were met with derision and again at entreaty which brought only + demands for ruling on points of order, till the meeting was on the point + of breaking up in confused disorder. + </p> + <p> + “McNish, I think I'll take a hand in this,” said Captain Jack in the + Scotchman's ear. “Are you game?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a wee,” said McNish, getting to his feet. Slowly he once more made + his way to the platform. As the crowd caught on to his purpose they broke + into cheering. When he reached the side of the speaker he spoke a word in + his ear, then came to the front with his hand held up. There was instant + quiet. He looked coolly over the excited, disintegrating audience for a + moment or two. + </p> + <p> + “A belonged tae the Feefty-fir-rst Diveesion,” he said in his richest + Doric. “We had a rare time wi' bullies over there. A'm for free speech! + Noo, listen tae me, you Cockney wheedle doodle. Let another cheep out o' + yere trap an' the Captain there will fling ye oot o' this room as we did + the Kayser oot o' France.” + </p> + <p> + “You said it, McNish,” said Maitland, leaping to the aisle. With a roar a + dozen returned men were on their feet. + </p> + <p> + “Steady, squad!” rang out Captain Jack's order. “Fall into this aisle! + Shun!” As if on parade the soldiers fell into line behind their captain. + </p> + <p> + “Macnamara!” he said, pointing to a huge Irishman. + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” said Macnamara. + </p> + <p> + “You see that little rat-faced chap?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Take your place beside him.” + </p> + <p> + With two steps Macnamara was beside his man. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman, I protest,” began the little Cockney fiercely. + </p> + <p> + “Pass him up,” said the Captain sharply. + </p> + <p> + With one single motion Macnamara's hand swept the little man out of his + place into the aisle. + </p> + <p> + “Chuck him out!” said Captain Jack quietly. + </p> + <p> + From hand to hand, with never a pause, amid the jeers and laughter of the + crowd the little man was passed along like a bundle of old rags till he + disappeared through the open door. + </p> + <p> + “Who's next?” shouted Macnamara joyfully. + </p> + <p> + “As you were!” came the sharp command. + </p> + <p> + At once Macnamara stood at attention. + </p> + <p> + Captain Jack nodded to the platform. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said quietly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Howard E. Bigelow finished his speech in peace. He made appeal for the + closing up of the ranks of Labour in preparation for the big fight which + was rapidly coming. They had just finished with Kaiserism in Europe but + they were faced with only another form of the same spirit in their own + land. They wanted no more fighting, God knew they had had enough of that, + but there were some things dearer than peace, and Labour was resolved to + get and to hold those things which they had fought for, “which you British + and especially you Canadians shed so much blood to win. We are making no + threats, but we are not going to stand for tyranny at the hands of any man + or any class of men in this country. Only one thing will defeat us, not + the traditional enemies of our class but disunion in our own ranks due to + the fool tactics of a lot of disgruntled and discredited traitors like the + man who has just been fired from this meeting.” He asked for a committee + which would take the whole situation in hand. He closed with a promise + that in any struggle which they undertook under the guidance of their + International Officers the American Federation of Labour to their last + dollar would be behind them. + </p> + <p> + Before the formal closing of the meeting Maitland slipped quietly out. As + he reached the sidewalk a light hand touched his arm. Turning he saw at + his elbow Annette, her face aglow and her black eyes ablaze with + passionate admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Captain Jack,” she panted, her hands outstretched, “you were just + wonderful! Splendid! Oh! I don't know what to say! I—” She paused in + sudden confusion. A hot colour flamed in her face. Maitland took her hands + in his. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Annette! I saw you there. Why! What's up, little girl?” + </p> + <p> + A sudden rush of tears had filled her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing. I am just excited, I guess. I don't know what—” She + pulled her hands away. “But you were great!” She laughed shrilly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it was your friend McNish did the trick,” said Captain Jack. “Very + neat bit of work that, eh? Very neat indeed. Awfully clever chap! Are you + going home now?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am waiting.” She paused shyly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see!” said Captain Jack with a smile. “Lucky chap, by Jove!” + </p> + <p> + “I am waiting for my father,” said Annette, tossing her head. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then, if that's all, come along with me. Your father knows his way + about.” The girl paused a moment, hesitating. Then with a sudden resolve + she cried gaily, + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will. I want to talk to you about it. Oh, I am so excited!” She + danced along at his side in gay abandon. As they turned at the first + corner Maitland glanced over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Hello! Here's McNish,” he cried, turning about. “Shall we wait for him?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind Malcolm,” cried the girl excitedly, “come along. I don't + want him just now. I want—” She checked herself abruptly. “I want to + talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right,” said Captain Jack. “He's gone back anyway. Come along + Annette, old girl. I have been wanting to see you for a long time.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see me,” said the girl, laughing up into his eyes with a frank, + warm admiration in hers that made Captain Jack's heart quicken a bit in + its steady beat. He was a young man with a normal appreciation of his own + worth. She, young, beautiful, unspoiled, in the innocence of her girlish + heart was flinging at him the full tribute of a warm, generous admiration + with every flash of her black eyes and every intonation of her voice. + Small wonder if Captain Jack found her good to look at and to listen to. + Often during the walk home he kept saying to himself, “Jove, that McNish + chap is a lucky fellow!” But McNish, taking his lonely way home, was only + conscious that the evening had grown chilly and grey. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE DAY BEFORE + </h3> + <p> + Business was suspended for the day in Blackwater. That is, men went + through their accustomed movements, but their thoughts were far apart from + the matters that were supposed to occupy their minds during the working + hours of the day. In the offices, in the stores, in the shops, on the + streets, in the schools, in the homes the one, sole topic of conversation, + the one mental obsession was The Great Game. Would the Maitland Mill + Hockey Team pull it off? Blackwater was not a unit in desiring victory for + the Maitland Mill team, for the reason that the team's present position of + proud eminence in the hockey world of Eastern Ontario had been won by a + series of smashing victories over local and neighbouring rival teams. They + had first disposed of that snappy seven of lightning lightweights, the + local High School team, the champions in their own League. They had + smashed their way through the McGinnis Foundry Seven in three Homeric + contests. This victory attracted the notice of the Blackwater Black + Eagles, the gay and dashing representatives of Blackwater's most highly + gilded stratum of society, a clever, hard-fighting, never-dying group of + athletes who, summer and winter, kept themselves in perfect form, and who + had moved rapidly out of obscurity into the dazzling spotlight of + championship over their district. For the sake of the practice in it and + in preparation for their games in the Eastern Ontario Hockey League, they + took on the Maitland Mill team. + </p> + <p> + It took the Black Eagles a full week to recover sufficient control to be + able to speak intelligibly as to the “how” and “why” of that match. For + the Mill team with apparent ease passed in thirteen goals under and over + and behind and beside the big broad goal stick of Bell Blackwood, the goal + wonder of the League; and the single register for the Eagles had been + netted by Fatty Findlay's own stick in a moment of aberration. During the + week following the Black Eagle debacle the various Bank managers, Law + Office managers and other financial magnates of the town were lenient with + their clerks. Social functions were abandoned. The young gentlemen had one + continuous permanent and unbreakable engagement at the rink or in + preparation for it. But all was in vain. The result of the second + encounter was defeat for the Eagles, defeat utter, unmistakable and + inexplicable except on the theory that they had met a superior team. + Throughout the hockey season the Maitland Mill maintained an unbroken + record of victory till their fame flew far; and at the close of the season + enthusiasts of the game had arranged a match between the winners of the + Eastern Ontario Hockey League, the renowned Cornwall team and the Maitland + Mill boys. To-day the Cornwalls were in town, and the town in consequence + was quite unfit for the ordinary duties of life. The Eagles almost to a + man were for the local team; for they were sports true to type. Not so + however their friends and following, who resented defeat of their men at + the hands of a working class team. + </p> + <p> + Of course it was Jack Maitland who was responsible for their humiliation. + It was he who had organised his fellow workmen, put them through a blood + and iron discipline, filled them with his own spirit of irresistible + furious abandon in attack which carried them to victory. + </p> + <p> + It was an old game with Jack Maitland. When a High School boy he had + developed that spirit of dominating and indomitable leadership that had + made his team the glory of the town. Later by sound and steady grinding at + the game he had developed a style and plan of team play which had produced + a town team in the winter immediately preceding the war that had won + championship honors. Now with his Mill team he was simply repeating his + former achievements. + </p> + <p> + It had astonished his friends to learn that Captain Jack was playing + hockey again. He had played no game except in a desultory way since the + war. He had resisted the united efforts of the Eagles and their women + friends to take the captaincy of that team. The mere thought of ever + appearing on the ice in hockey uniform gave him a sick feeling at his + heart. Of that noble seven whom he had in pre-war days led so often to + victory four were still “over there,” one was wandering round a darkened + room. Of the remaining two, one Rupert Stillwell was too deeply engrossed + in large financial affairs for hockey. Captain Jack himself was the + seventh, and the mere sight of a hockey stick on a school boy's shoulder + gave him a heart stab. + </p> + <p> + It was his loyal pal Patricia Templeton, who gave him the first impulse + toward the game again. To her pleading he had yielded so far as to coach, + on a Saturday afternoon, her team of High School girls to victory. But it + was the Reverend Murdo Matheson who furnished the spur to conscience that + resulted in the organising of the Maitland Mill team. + </p> + <p> + “You, John Maitland, more than any of us and more than all of us together + can draw these lads of yours from the pool rooms and worse,” the Reverend + Murdo had said one day in early winter. + </p> + <p> + “Great Scott, Padre”—the Reverend Murdo had done his bit overseas—“what + are you giving me now?” + </p> + <p> + “You, more than any or all of us, I am saying,” repeated the minister + solemnly. “For God's sake, man, get these lads on the ice or anywhere + out-of-doors for the good of their immortal souls.” + </p> + <p> + “Me! And why me, pray?” Captain Jack had asked. “I'm no uplifter. Why jump + on me?” + </p> + <p> + “You, because God has bestowed on you the gift to lead men,” said the + minister with increasing solemnity. “A high gift it is, and one for which + God will hold you responsible.” + </p> + <p> + That very night, passing by the Lucky Strike Pool Rooms, Captain Jack had + turned in to find a score and more of youths—many of them from the + mills—flashing their money with reckless freedom in an atmosphere + thick with foul tobacco-smoke and reeking with profane and lewd speech. On + reaching his home that night Maitland went straight to the attic and dug + up his hockey kit. Before he slept he had laid his plans for a league + among the working lads in the various industries in the town. + </p> + <p> + It was no easy task to force these men into training habits, to hold them + to the grind, to discipline them into self-control in temper and in + desire. It was of vast assistance to him that three of his seven were + overseas men, while some dozen or so of the twenty in the club were + returned soldiers. It was part of his discipline that his team should + never shirk a day's work for the game except on the rare occasions when + they went on tour. Hence the management in the various mills and + factories, at first hostile and suspicious, came to regard these athletic + activities on the part of their employees with approval and finally came + to give encouragement and support to the games. + </p> + <p> + To-day was a half holiday for the Maitland Mills and the streets were + noticeably full of the men and their sweethearts and wives in their Sunday + clothes. Not the team, however. Maitland knew better than that. He took + his men for a run in the country before noon, bringing them home in rich + warm glow. Then after a bath and a hard rubdown they dined together at the + mill and then their Captain ordered them home to sleep, forbidding them + the streets till they were on their way to the game. + </p> + <p> + On his way home Captain Jack was waylaid by his admirer and champion, + Patricia. She, standing in front of his car, brought him to a halt. + </p> + <p> + “I have not even seen you for a whole week,” she complained, getting in + beside him, “and your phone is always busy in the evening. Of course no + one can get you during the day. And I do want to know how the team is. Oh! + do tell me they are fit for the game of their lives! Are they every one + fit?” + </p> + <p> + “Fit and fine.” + </p> + <p> + “And will they win?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing,” said Captain Jack quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I hope you are right. But you are so sure,” exclaimed his companion. + “The Cornwalls are wonderful, Rupert says.” + </p> + <p> + “He would.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I forgot you don't think much of Rupert,” sighed Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't time, you see,” answered Captain Jack gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know what I mean. It is a pity, too, for he is really very nice. + I mean he is so good to me,” sighed Patricia again. + </p> + <p> + “Don't sigh, Patsy, old girl. It really isn't worth it, you know. How is + the supply of choc's keeping up?” + </p> + <p> + “Now you are thinking me a pig. But tell me about your men. Are they + really in form?” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely at the peak.” + </p> + <p> + “And that darling Fatty Findlay. I do hope he will not lose his head and + let a goal in. He is perfectly adorable with that everlasting smile of + his. I do hope Fatty is at the peak, too. Is he, really?” The anxiety in + Patricia's tone was more than painful. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Patsy, he is right at the pinnacle.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Jack, if you don't win to-night I shall—well, I shall just + weep my eyes out.” + </p> + <p> + “That settles it, Pat. We shall win. We can't—I can't spare those + lovely eyes, you know,” said Captain Jack, smiling at her. + </p> + <p> + One by one Captain Jack's team were passed in review—the defence, + Macnamara and “Jack” Johnson, so called for his woolly white head; “Reddy” + Hughes, Ross, “Snoopy” Sykes, who with Captain Jack made the forward line, + all were declared to be fit to deliver the last ounce in their bodies, the + last flicker in their souls. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Captain Jack,” said Patricia gravely, “there is one change + you ought to make in your forward line.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! What is that, Pat?” asked Captain Jack, with never a suggestion of a + smile. + </p> + <p> + “I would change Snoopy for Geordie Ross. You know Geordie is a little too + careful, and he is hardly fast enough for you. Now you and Snoopy on left + wing would be oh! perfectly wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + “Patsy, you are a wizard!” exclaimed Captain Jack. “That very change has + been made and the improvement is unbelievable. We are both left-handers + and we pull off our little specialties far more smoothly than Geordie and + I could. You have exactly hit the bull. You watch for that back of the + goal play to-night. Well, here we are. You have good seats, I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. Rupert, you see, as patron of the Eagles was able to get the + very best. But won't you come in and see mother? She is really quite + worked up over it, though of course she couldn't bear to go.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jack checked the refusal on his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will go in for a few minutes,” he said gravely. “No! Your mother + would not—could not come, of course.” + </p> + <p> + There flashed before his mind a picture from pre-war days. The rink packed + with wildly excited throngs and in a certain reserved section midway down + the side the Templeton-Maitland party with its distinguished looking men + and beautiful women following with eager faces and shining eyes the + fortunes of their sons in the fight before them. The flash of that picture + was like a hand of ice upon his heart as Captain Jack entered the cosy + living room. + </p> + <p> + “Here he is, Mamma!” cried Patricia as she ushered her hero into the room + with a sweeping gesture. “And he brings the most cheering news. They are + going to win!” + </p> + <p> + “But how delightful!” exclaimed Adrien coming from the piano where she had + been playing, with Rupert Stillwell turning her music for her. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose upon the best authority,” said Stillwell, grinning at Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “We are so glad you found time to run in,” said Mrs. Templeton. “You must + have a great deal to say to your team on the last afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad I came too, now,” said Captain Jack, holding the fragile hand in + his and patting it gently. “I am afraid Patricia is responsible for my + coming in. I don't really believe I could have ventured on my own.” + </p> + <p> + A silence fell on the company which none of them seemed able to break. + Other days were hard upon them. In this very room it was that that other + seven were wont to meet for their afternoon tea before their great + matches. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Templeton, looking up at Jack, found his eyes fixed upon her and full + of tears. With a swift upward reach of her arms she caught him and drew + his head to her breast. + </p> + <p> + “I know, Jack dear,” she said, with lips that quivered piteously. For a + moment or two he knelt before her while she held him in a close embrace. + Then he gently kissed her cheek and rose to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Give him some tea, Adrien,” she said, making a gallant struggle to steady + her voice, “a cup of tea—and no cake. I remember, you see,” she + added with a tremulous smile. + </p> + <p> + Adrien came back quickly from the window. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! a fresh cup!” she cried eagerly, “and a sandwich. You, Pat, get the + sandwiches. No cake. We must do nothing to imperil the coming victory.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a wonderful team, Jack, I hear,” said her mother. “Come and sit + here beside me and tell me about them. Patricia has been keeping me + informed, but she is not very coherent at times. Of course, I know about + your wonderful goal keeper Findlay, is it not?” And the gentle little lady + kept a stream of conversation going, for she saw how deeply moved Maitland + was. It was his first visit to the Rectory since he had taken up the game + again, and the rush of emotion released by the vivid memory of those old + happy days when that jolly group of boys had filled this familiar room + with their noisy clatter wellnigh overcame him. + </p> + <p> + For a minute or two he fussed with the tea things till he could master his + voice, then he said very quietly: + </p> + <p> + “They are very decent chaps—really very good fellows and they have + taken their training extraordinarily well. Of course, Macnamara and + Johnson were in my old company, and that helps a lot.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I remember Macnamara quite well. He is a fine big Irishman.” + </p> + <p> + “Fancy you remembering him, Mrs. Templeton,” said Captain Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I remember him. He is one of our boys.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's see, he is one of your defence, isn't he?” said Stillwell, who had + felt himself rather out of the conversation. Maitland nodded. The presence + of Stillwell in that room introduced a painful element. Once he had been + one of the seven and though never so intimately associated with the + Rectory life as the others, yet at all team gatherings he had had his + place. But since the war Maitland had never been able to endure his + presence in that room. To-day, with the memory of those old thrilling days + pressing hard upon his heart, he could not bear to look upon a man, once + one of them, now forever an outsider. The tea coming in brought to + Maitland relief. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, here you are,” he cried anticipating Stillwell in relieving Adrien of + part of her load. “You are a life saver. Tea is the thing for this hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Three lumps, is it not?” said the girl, smiling at him. “You see, I + remember, though you really don't deserve it. And here is Pat with the + sandwiches.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! a whole plate for yourself, Captain Jack,” said Patricia. “Come and + sit by me here.” + </p> + <p> + “No indeed!” said her sister with a bright glow on her cheeks. “Jack is + going to sit right here by the tea-pot, and me,” she added, throwing him a + swift glance. + </p> + <p> + “No! you are both wrong, children,” said their mother. “Jack is coming to + sit beside me. He's my boy this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, we will all share him,” said Patricia, placing chairs near her + mother. “I must talk about the match, I simply must.” + </p> + <p> + A shadow for a moment wiped the brightness from the face and eyes of the + elder sister, but yielding to her mother's appeal, she joined the circle, + saying to Maitland, + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you want to talk about the match, do you? That is not + supposed to be good psychology before a match. What you really want is a + good sleep. Isn't that right?” + </p> + <p> + “He has just sent his men off to bed, I know,” said Patricia, “and we will + send him off when he has had his tea.” + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad you are playing again,” said Mrs. Templeton to Maitland as + he sat down by her side. “You need more recreation than you have been + taking, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + A shadow crossed Maitland's face. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe I need recreation very much, but these chaps of mine do,” + he said simply. + </p> + <p> + “The workmen, you mean!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. They lead rather a dull life, you know. Not much colour. A pool room + on the whole has rather a rotten effect upon a chap who has been nine or + ten hours indoors already and who sticks at the same thing day in and day + out for months at a time.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I see. You mean you took up hockey for—ah—to help—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't want to pose as a workingman's advocate and that sort of + thing. But really he has a slow time.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, why doesn't he get busy and do something for himself,” broke in + Stillwell, impatiently. “The Lord knows he is getting most of the money + these days and has more spare time than anyone else in the community.” + </p> + <p> + But Maitland ignored him, till Patricia intervened. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about that,” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” said her sister. “You are not going to get Jack into a labour + controversy this afternoon. But I would just like to ask you, Pat, how + keen you'd be on organising and conducting a Literary and Debating Society + after you had put in not five and a half hours' lessons, but eight or nine + hours'! It would take some doing, eh? But let's cut out the labour + trouble. It is nearly time for his sleep, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it, Captain Jack? If so, we won't keep you a minute,” said Patricia + anxiously. “No, mother! you must not keep him. He must be on tip-toe + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jack rose. “Patricia would make an ideal trainer,” he said. “I + fear I must really go. I am awfully glad to have come in and seen you all. + Somehow I feel a whole lot better.” + </p> + <p> + “And so do we, Jack,” said the old lady in a wistful voice. “Won't you + come again soon?” + </p> + <p> + Maitland hesitated a moment, glancing at Adrien. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do!” said the girl, with a little colour coming into her face. “It + has been a little like old times to see you this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, hasn't it?” said Stillwell. “Awfully jolly.” + </p> + <p> + Maitland stiffened and turned again to the old lady whose eyes were turned + on him with sad entreaty. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I shall come to see you,” said Maitland, bowing over her hand in + farewell. + </p> + <p> + “We shall expect you to come and see us to-night at the match, remember, + Captain Jack,” said Patricia, as he passed out of the room. “Now be sure + to go and have your sleep.” + </p> + <p> + But there was no sleep that afternoon for Captain Jack. On his way through + the town he was halted by McNish. + </p> + <p> + “The boys want to see you,” he said briefly. + </p> + <p> + “What boys? What do you mean, McNish?” + </p> + <p> + “At the rooms. Will you come down now?” + </p> + <p> + “Now? I can't come now, McNish. I have to be on the ice in three hours and + I must get a little rest. What's up, anyway? Tell them I'll see them + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “No! they want you now!” said McNish firmly. “I would advise that you + come.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, McNish? Well, get in here and I'll go to see them.” + McNish got into the car. “Now, what's all the mystery?” + </p> + <p> + “Better wait,” said McNish, grimly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is a dog's trick,” said Maitland wrathfully, “to get on to a + chap before a big match like this.” + </p> + <p> + In the Union Committee rooms a group of men were awaiting them, among them + Mr. Wigglesworth and the little cockney who had made himself so obnoxious + at the public meeting. + </p> + <p> + “What's all this tomfoolery, Wigglesworth?” demanded Captain Jack, + striding in among them. + </p> + <p> + “(H)excuse me,” said the little cockney. “You are a member of the + Woodworkers' Union I (h)understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Who the devil are you, may I ask?” said Maitland in a rage. + </p> + <p> + “(H)allow me,” said Mr. Wigglesworth. “Mister Simmons, Mr. Maitland—Mr. + Simmons is our new secretary, (h)elected last meetin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you want of me?” demanded Maitland. “Don't you know I am + tied up this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “Tied (h)up?” asked Simmons coolly, “'ow?” + </p> + <p> + “With the match, confound you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the match! And w'at match may that be? (H)Anythin' to do with your + Union?” + </p> + <p> + Maitland glared at him, too dumfounded to speak. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Mr. Maitland,” began Mr. Wigglesworth in a hurried and + apologetic manner. + </p> + <p> + “'Ere! you keep aht o' this,” said Simmons sharply, “this 'ere's my job. I + shall tell Brother Maitland all that is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “I was only going to (h)explain—” began Mr. Wigglesworth. + </p> + <p> + “Naw then! IS this your job or mine? Was you (h)appointed or was I? When I + find myself (h)unable to discharge my dooty to the Union I might per'aps + call on you, Brother Wigglesworth; but until I find myself in that + situation I 'ope you will refrain from shovin' in your 'orn.” Brother + Simmons' sarcasm appeared to wither Brother Wigglesworth into silence. + </p> + <p> + “Naw then, Brother Maitland, we shall get (h)on.” + </p> + <p> + Maitland glanced round on the group of half a dozen men. Some of them he + knew; others were strangers to him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what the business is, gentlemen,” he said, curbing his + wrath, “but I want to know if it can't wait till to-morrow? You know our + boys are going on the ice in a couple of hours or so—” + </p> + <p> + “Goin' on the (h)ice! Goin' on the (h)ice! W'at's that to do with Union + business?” snarled Simmons. “This 'ere's no silly kids' gaime! It's a + man's work we ave in 'and, if you don't want to do the business to w'ich + you are (h)appointed w'y just say so and we shall know 'ow to (h)act. + There 'as been too much o' this gaime business to suit me. If we are men + let us (h)act like men.” + </p> + <p> + “Better get on wi' it,” said McNish curtly. + </p> + <p> + “I shall get on w'en I am good and ready, Brother McNish,” answered + Simmons. + </p> + <p> + “All r-r-right, brother, but A doot ye're oot o' order. Who is the + chairman o' this Committee?” asked McNish calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Brother Phillips,” answered two or three voices. + </p> + <p> + “All right. I suggest you proceed regularly and call the meeting to + order,” said McNish quietly. Simmons, recognising that it was Greek + meeting Greek, agreed to this. + </p> + <p> + Clumsily and hesitatingly Brother Phillips began stating the business of + the Committee. He had not gone far before Simmons interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman, with your permission I would just like to say that the + resolution passed at the representative joint meetin' of the Maitland + Mills and Box Factory (h)employees last night will sufficiently (h)explain + the (h)object of this meetin' 'ere.” Brother Simmons' tone suggested + infinite pity for the lumbering efforts of the chairman. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I guess it will,” said the chairman, blushing in his confusion. + Brother Phillips was new to his position and its duties. + </p> + <p> + “I would suggest that that resolution be read,” said Brother Simmons, the + pity in his tone hardly veiling his contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Yes! Of course!” said Brother Phillips hurriedly. “Eh—would + you please read it, Mr.—that is—Brother Simmons?” + </p> + <p> + With great show of deliberation and of entire mastery of the situation Mr. + Simmons produced a Minute Book and began: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman and brothers, I may say that this 'ere resolution was passed + at a joint representative meetin' of all the (h)employees of the Maitland + Company—” + </p> + <p> + “There is no sich company, Mr. Chairman,” said McNish. “A say let us hear + the resolution. We'll hear the speech afterwards if we must.” It was again + Greek meeting Greek, and the little man turned with a sarcastic smile to + McNish. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose Brother McNish is (h)anxious to get ready for this gaime we've + bin 'earing abaht. I should just like to remind 'im that we 'ave a bigger + gaime on 'and, if 'e wants to get into it. Personally I don't 'ave no use + for these 'ere gaimes. I 'ave seen the same kind of capitalistic dodge to + distract the workin' man's (h)attention from 'is real gaime in life. These + circumventions—” + </p> + <p> + “Maister Chair-r-man! A rise—” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman, I 'ave the floor and if Brother McNish knows (h)anythink + abaht constitootional proceedin's—” + </p> + <p> + “Maister Chair-r-man—Maister-r Chair-r-r-man!” Brother McNish's + Doric was ominously rasping. “A rise tae a pint of or-r-de-r-r. And + Brother Simmons, who claims to be an expert in constitutional law and + procedure knows I have the floor. Ma pint of order is this, that there is + no business before the meeting and as apparently only aboot half the + members are absent—” + </p> + <p> + “And 'oo's fault is that? 'E was to get them 'isself,” shouted Mr. + Simmons. + </p> + <p> + “A searched the toon for them but cudna find them, but as A was sayin'—as + the secretary has no business tae bring before the meeting but a wheen + havers, A move we adjourn tae tomorrow at 12:30 p. m. in this place, and I + believe that as Brither Maitland is also a member o' this committee he + will second the motion.” + </p> + <p> + Maitland, not knowing in the least what the whole thing was about, but + seeing a way out of the present mix-up, promptly seconded the motion. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman!” shouted Simmons. “I am prepared to—” + </p> + <p> + “Maister Chair-r-man, A need not remind you that there is no discussion on + a motion to adjourn.” + </p> + <p> + “That is quite right,” said the chairman, in whose memory by some obscure + mental process this fact seemed to have found a lodging. + </p> + <p> + “It is moved that this committee do now adjourn.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman! I protest,” shrieked Brother Simmons frantically. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he's a grand protester!” said Brother McNish. + </p> + <p> + The motion was carried by a majority of one, Brothers Wigglesworth, McNish + and Maitland voting in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + “Traitors!” shrieked Brother Simmons. “Capitalistic traitors!” + </p> + <p> + “Hoot mon! Ye're no in Hyde Park. Save yere breath for yere porritch the + morn—” said McNish, relaxing into a grim smile as he left the rooms. + </p> + <p> + “We'll get 'im,” said Simmons to his ally and friend. “'E's in with that + there young pup. 'E knows 'ow to work 'im and 'e'd sell us all up, 'e + would.” Brother Simmons' brand of profanity strongly savoured of the + London pavements in its picturesque fluency. + </p> + <p> + “Get in here, McNish,” said Maitland, who was waiting at the door. With + some hesitation McNish accepted the invitation. + </p> + <p> + “Now, what does this mean?” said Maitland savagely, then checking his + rage, “but I ought to thank you for getting me out of the grip of that + frantic idiot. What is this fool thing?” + </p> + <p> + “It's nae that,” said McNish shortly. “It is anything but that. But I + grant ye this was no time to bring it on. That was beyond me. A doot yon + puir cratur had a purpose in it, however. He disna—does not think + much of these games of yours. But that's anither—another”—McNish + was careful of his speech—“matter.” + </p> + <p> + “But what in—” + </p> + <p> + “I am just telling you. There is a strong, a very strong movement under + way among the unions at present.” + </p> + <p> + “A movement? Strike, do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It may be, or worse.” McNish's tone was very grave. “And as a good union + man they expect your assistance.” + </p> + <p> + “Wages again?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and condeetions and the like.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is not six months since the last agreement was signed and that + agreement is running still.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, it is, but condeetions, conditions have changed since that date,” + said McNish, “and there must be readjustment—at least, there is a + feeling that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Readjustment? But I have had no hint of this in our meetings. This has + not come up for discussion.” + </p> + <p> + A gentle pity smiled from the rugged face of the man beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Hardly,” he said. “It's no done that way.” + </p> + <p> + They came to McNish's door. + </p> + <p> + “Will you come in?” he said courteously. A refusal was at Maitland's lips + when the door was opened by an old lady in a white frilled cap and without + being able to explain how it came about he found himself in the quaintly + furnished but delightfully cosy living-room, soaking in the comfort of a + great blazing fire. + </p> + <p> + “This is really solid comfort,” he said, spreading his hands to the + glowing pine slabs. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ye need it the day. The fire cheers the heart,” said the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “But you don't need it for that, Mrs. McNish,” said her visitor, smiling + at the strong, serene face under the white frilled cap. + </p> + <p> + “Do I not then? An' what aboot yersel'?” The keen grey eye searched his + face. Maitland was immediately conscious of a vast dreariness in his life. + He sat silent looking into the blazing fire. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” continued the old lady, “but there are the bright spots tae, an' + it's ill tae glower at a cauld hearth stone.” Maitland glanced quickly at + the shrewd and kindly face. What did she know about him and his life and + his “cauld hearth stone”? So he said nothing but waited. Suddenly she + swerved to another theme. + </p> + <p> + “Malcolm,” she said, “have ye secured the tickets for the match?” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, mither, now it is the terrible auld sport ye are. She drags me out to + all these things.” His eyes twinkled at Maitland. “I can't find time for + any study.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoots ye and ye're study. A doot a rale heartening scramble on the ice + wad dae ye mair guid than an oor wi' yon godless Jew buddie.” + </p> + <p> + “She means Marx, of course,” said McNish, in answer to Maitland's look of + perplexity. “She has no use for him.” + </p> + <p> + “But the tickets, Malcolm,” insisted his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Well, mither, A'll confess I clean forgot them. Ye see,” he hurried to + say, “A was that fashed over yon Committee maitter—” + </p> + <p> + “Committee maitter!” exclaimed the old lady indignantly. “Did I not tell + ye no to heed yon screamin' English cratur wi' his revolutionary + nonsense?” + </p> + <p> + “She means Simmons,” interjected Malcolm with a little smile. “He means + well, mither, but A'm vexed aboot the tickets.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. McNish,” said Maitland, “I happen to have two tickets that I can let + you have.” For an instant she hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “We can find a way in, I think, Mr. Maitland,” said Malcolm, forestalling + his mother's answer. But with simple dignity his mother put him aside. + </p> + <p> + “A shall be verra pleased indeed to have the tickets, provided you can + spare them, Mr. Maitland. Never mind, noo, Malcolm. A ken well what ye're + thinkin'. He's gey independent and his mind is on thae revolutionary + buddies o' his. A'm aye tellin' him this is nae land for yon nonsense. Gin + we were in Rooshie, or Germany whaur the people have lived in black + slavery or even in the auld land whaur the fowk are haudden doon wi' + generations o' class bondage, there might be a chance for a revolutionary. + But what can ye dae in a land whaur the fowk are aye climbin' through + ither, noo up, noo down, noo maister, noo man? Ye canna make Canadians + revolutionaries. They are a' on the road to be maisters. Malcolm is a + clever loon but he has a wee bee in his bonnet.” The old lady smiled + quizzically at her big, serious-faced son. + </p> + <p> + “Noo, mither, ye're just talkin' havers,” he said. “My mother is as great + a Socialist as I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but A keep ma heid.” + </p> + <p> + “That ye do, mither. Ye're gey cannie,” replied her son, shaking his head, + and so they passed the word to and fro, and Maitland sat listening to the + chat. The delightful spirit of camaraderie between mother and son reminded + him of a similar relationship between mother and sons in his own home in + pre-war days. He could not tear himself away. It was well on to his dinner + hour before he rose to go. + </p> + <p> + “You have given me a delightful hour, Mrs. McNish,” he said as he shook + hands. “You made me think of my own home in the old days,—I mean + before the war came and smashed everything.” The old lady's eyes were + kindly scanning his face. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, the war smashed yere hame?” Maitland nodded in silence. + </p> + <p> + “His brither,” said Malcolm, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Puir laddie,” she said, patting his hand. + </p> + <p> + “And my mother,” added Maitland, speaking with difficulty, “and that, of + course, meant our home—and everything. So I thank you for a very + happy hour,” he added with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Wad ye care to come again?” said the old lady with a quiet dignity. + “We're plain fowk but ye'll be always welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “I just will, Mrs. McNish. And I will send you the tickets.” + </p> + <p> + “Man! I wish ye grand luck the night. A grand victory.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. We are going to make a try for it,” said Maitland. “You must + shout for us.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, wull I,” she answered grimly. And she kept her word for of all the + company that made up the Maitland party, none was more conspicuously + enthusiastic in applause than was a white-haired old lady in a respectable + black bonnet whose wild and weird Doric expletives and exclamations were + the joy of the whole party about her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + THE NIGHT OF VICTORY + </h3> + <p> + It was an hour after the match. They were gathered in the old rendezvous + of the hockey teams in pre-war days. And they were all wildly excited over + the Great Victory. + </p> + <p> + “Just think of it, Mamma, dear,” Patricia shouted, pirouetting now on one + foot and then on the other, “Eight to six! Oh, it is too glorious to + believe! And against that wonderful team, the Cornwalls! Now listen to me, + while I give you a calm and connected account of the game. I shall always + regret that you were not present, Mamma. Victory! And at half time we were + down, five to two! I confess disaster and despair stared me in the face. + And we started off so gloriously! Captain Jack and Snoopy in the first + five minutes actually put in two goals, with that back goal play of + theirs. You know, I explained it to you, Mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear, I know,” said her mother, “but if you will speak a little more + quietly and slowly—” + </p> + <p> + “I will, Mamma,” said her daughter, sitting down with great deliberation, + in front of her. “I will explain to you again that 'round the goal' play.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, my dear, that I could hardly grasp just what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, never mind, Mamma. It is a particular and special play that Captain + Jack worked out. They rush down to the goal and instead of trying to + shoot, the one with the puck circles round the back and delivers the puck + immediately in front of the goal, where another takes and slips it in. Two + goals in about five minutes, wasn't it, Hugh?” + </p> + <p> + “About eight minutes, I should say,” replied Hugh Maynard, the big Captain + of the Eagles. + </p> + <p> + “Well, eight minutes,” continued Patricia, taking up the tale, “and then + they began the roughhouse business. Jumbo Larson—a terribly big + Swede, Mamma—put it all over little Snoopy. Chucked him about, wiped + the ice with him!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear!” exclaimed her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know what I mean. A great big, two-hundred-pound monster, who + simply threw Snoopy and Georgie Ross all about the rink. It took Captain + Jack all his time to stand up against him. And then they ran in goals at a + perfectly terrific rate. Two—three—four—five! And only + Fatty Findlay's marvelous play kept down the score. I adore Fatty! You + know, Mamma, that dear old Scotchwoman—” + </p> + <p> + “Scotchwoman?” exclaimed Mrs. Templeton. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Oh! you don't know about her. Captain Jack brought her along. Mrs. + Mc-something.” + </p> + <p> + “McNish,” supplied Adrien. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, McNish,” continued Patricia, “a perfect dear! She did everything but + swear. Indeed, she may have been swearing for I could not understand half + of what she said.” + </p> + <p> + Adrien interrupted: “She is perfectly priceless, Mother. I wish you could + meet her—so dignified and sweet.” + </p> + <p> + “Sweet!” exclaimed Patricia, with a laugh. “Well, I didn't see the + sweetness, exactly. But at half time, Mamma, fancy! they stood five to two + against us. It was a truly awful moment for all of us. And then, after + half time, didn't those Cornwalls within five minutes run in another goal, + and, worse than all, Jumbo Larson laid out Snoopy flat on the ice! Now the + game stood six to two! Think of it, Mamma!” + </p> + <p> + Then Adrien put in: “It was at this point that the old lady made a remark + which, I believe, saved the day. What was it exactly, Hugh?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't quite get it.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said little Vic Forsythe, himself a star of the Eagle forward + line. “You poor Sassenach! You couldn't be expected to catch the full, + fine flavour of it. Maitland was trying to cheer the old lady up when she + said to him: 'Yon half backs, A'm thinkin''—she was a soccer fan in + the old land, I believe—'yon half backs, A'm thinkin', are gey + confident. It is a peety they cudna be shaken a bit in their nerves.' By + Jove! Maitland jumped at it. 'Mrs. McNish, you're right! you're right. I + wonder I did not think of it before.'” + </p> + <p> + Then Adrien broke in: “Yes, from that moment there was a change in our + men's tactics.” + </p> + <p> + Then Patricia broke in: “Well, then, let me go on. Captain Jack knew quite + well there was no use of allowing those little chaps, Snoopy and Geordie + Ross, to keep feeding themselves to those horrid monsters, Jumbo Larson + and Macnab, so what did they do but move up 'Jack' Johnson and Macnamara. + That is, you see, Mamma, the forwards would take down the puck and then up + behind them would come the backs, Macnamara and 'Jack' Johnson, like a + perfect storm, and taking the puck from the forwards, who would then fall + back to defence, would smash right on the Cornwall defence. The very first + time when 'Jack' Johnson came against Jumbo, Jumbo found himself sitting + on the ice. Oh! it was lovely! Perfectly lovely! And the next time they + did it, Jumbo came at him like a bull. But that adorable 'Jack' Johnson + just lifted him clear off his feet and flung him against the side. It + seemed to me that the whole rink shook!” + </p> + <p> + Here Vic broke in: “You didn't hear what the old lady said at this point, + I suppose. I was sitting next to her. She was really a whole play by + herself. When Jumbo went smashing against the side, the old lady gave a + grunt. 'Hum, that wull sort ye a doot.' Oh! she is a peach!” + </p> + <p> + “And the next time they came down,” cried Patricia, taking up the tale + again, “Jumbo avoided him. For Macnamara, 'Jack' Johnson and Captain Jack + came roaring down the ice at a terrific pace, and with never a stop, + smashed head on into Jumbo and Macnab and fairly hurled them in on Hepburn—that + is their goal keeper, you know—and scored. Oh! Oh! Oh! Such a yell! + Six to three, and ten minutes to play.” + </p> + <p> + “But Patricia,” said Mrs. Templeton, “do moderate your tone. We are not in + the rink. And this terrible excitement can't be good for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Good for me?” cried Patricia. “What difference does that make? Ten + minutes to play, Mamma! But that was the end of the roughhouse game by the + Cornwall defence.” + </p> + <p> + Then Hugh stepped in: “It really did break up that defence. It was a + wonderful piece of generalship, I must say. They never seemed to get + together after that.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me talk, Hugh,” exclaimed Patricia, “I want to tell Mamma what + happened next, for this was really the most terribly exciting part of the + game. And I think it was awfully clever of Captain Jack. You know, next + time, Mamma, when they came down—I mean our men—they pretended + to be playing the same game, but they weren't. For Captain Jack and Snoopy + went back to their old specialty, and before the Cornwalls knew where they + were at, they ran in three goals—one-two-three, just like that! Oh! + you ought to have seen that rink, Mamma, and you ought to have heard the + yelling! I wish you had been there! And then, just at that last goal + didn't that horrid Jumbo make a terrible and cruel swing at Snoopy's + ankle, just as he passed. Knocked him clean off his feet so that poor + Snoopy lay on the ice quite still! He was really nearly killed. They had + to carry him off!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wouldn't say that exactly,” said Hugh. “The fact of the matter + is, Snoopy is a clever little beggar and I happened to catch his wink as + Maitland was bending over him. I was helping him off the ice, you know, + and I heard him whisper, 'Don't worry, Captain, I'm all right. Get me + another pair of skates. It will take a little time.'” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean he wasn't hurt?” exclaimed Patricia indignantly. “Indeed he + was; he was almost killed, I am sure he was.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he was hurt right enough,” said Hugh, “but he wasn't killed by any + means!” + </p> + <p> + “And then,” continued Patricia, “there was the most terrible riot and + uproar. Everybody seemed to be on the ice and fighting. Hugh ran in, and + Vic—I should loved to have gone myself—Hugh was perfectly + splendid—and all the Eagles were there and—” + </p> + <p> + Then Mrs. Templeton said: “What do you mean—a fight, a riot?” + </p> + <p> + “A real riot, Mother,” said Adrien, “the whole crowd demanding Jumbo's + removal from the ice.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Patricia impatiently, pushing her sister aside, “Hugh + went straight to the umpire and it looked almost as though he was going to + fight, the way he tore in. But he didn't. He just spoke quietly to the + umpire. What did you say, Hugh?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” cried Vic, “Hugh was perfectly calm and superior. He knows the + umpire well. Indeed, I think the umpire owes his life to Hugh and his + protecting band of Eagles.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he say,” cried Patricia. “I wish I could have heard that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Vic, “there was an interesting conversation. 'Keep out of this, + Maynard. You ought to know better,' the umpire said, 'keep out.' 'Baker, + that man Larson must go off.' 'Rubbish,' said the umpire, 'they were both + roughing it.' 'Look here, Baker, that's rot and you know it. It was a + deliberate and beastly trick. Put him off!' 'He stays on!' said the + umpire, and he stuck to it, I'll give him credit for that. It was old + Maitland that saved the day. He came up smiling. 'I hope you are taking + off the time, umpire,' he said, with that little laugh of his. 'I am not + going to put Larson off,' shouted the umpire to him. 'Who asked you to?' + said Maitland. 'Go on with the game.' That saved the day. They all started + cheering. The ice was cleared and the game went on.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that was it. I couldn't understand. They were so savage first, and + then suddenly they all seemed to quiet down. It was Captain Jack. Well, + Mamma, on they came again! But when poor Snoopy came out, all bandaged + round the head and the blood showing through—” + </p> + <p> + “Quite a clever little beggar,” murmured Vic. + </p> + <p> + “Clever? What do you mean?” cried Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, good psychology, I mean—that's all. Bloody bandages—demanding + vengeance, Jack's team, you know—Macnamara, for instance, entreating + his captain for the love of heaven to put him opposite Jumbo—shaking + the morale of the enemy and so forth—mighty good psychology.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know exactly what you mean,” said Patricia, “but the Cornwall + defence was certainly rattled. They pulled their men back and played + defence like perfect demons, with the Mill men on to them like tigers.” + </p> + <p> + “But Patricia, my dear,” said her mother, “those are terrible words.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mamma, not half so terrible as the real thing. Oh, it was perfectly + splendid! And then how did it finish, Hugh? I didn't quite see how that + play came about.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't see, either,” said Hugh. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you?” cried Adrien, “I did. Jack and Geordie Ross were going down + the centre at a perfectly terrific speed, big Macnamara backing them up. + Out came Macnab and Jumbo Larson following him. Macnab checked Geordie, + who passed to Jack, who slipped it back to Macnamara. Down came Jumbo like + a perfect thunderbolt and fairly hurled himself upon Macnamara. I don't + know what happened then, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I do!” cried Vic. “When old Jumbo came hurtling down upon Macnamara, + this was evidently what Macnamara was waiting for. Indeed, what he had + been praying for all through the game. I saw him gather himself, crouch + low, lurch forward with shoulder well down, a wrestler's trick—you + know Macnamara was the champion wrestler of his division in France—he + caught Jumbo low. Result, a terrific catapult, and the big Swede lay on + his back some twenty feet away. Everybody thought he was dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it was perfectly lovely!” exclaimed Patricia, rapturously. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear,” said her mother, “lovely, and they thought the man was + dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but he wasn't dead. He came to. I will say he was very plucky. Then + just as they faced off, time was called. Six to six! Think of it, Mamma, + six to six! And we had been five to two at half time!” + </p> + <p> + “Six to six?” said Mrs. Templeton. “But I thought you said we won?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, listen, Mamma, this is the most wonderful thing of the whole match,” + said Adrien, trying to break in on the tornado of words from her younger + sister. + </p> + <p> + “No, let me, Adrien! I know exactly how it was done. Captain Jack + explained it to me before. It was Captain Jack's specialty. It was what + they call the double-circle. Here is the way it was worked.” Patricia + sprang to her feet, arranged two chairs for goal and proceeded to + demonstrate. “You see, Mamma, in the single circle play, Captain Jack and + Snoopy come down—say Snoopy has the puck. Just as they get near the + goal Snoopy fools the back, rushes round the goal and passes to Jack, who + is standing in front ready to slip it in. But of course the Cornwalls were + prepared for the play. But that is where the double-circle comes in. This + time Geordie had the puck, with Captain Jack immediately at his left and + Snoopy further out. Well, Geordie had the puck, you see. He rushes down + and pretends to make the circle of the goal. But this time he doesn't. He + tears like mad around the goal with the puck, Snoopy tears like mad around + the goal from the other side, the defence all rush over to the left to + check them, leaving the right wide open. Snoopy takes the ball from + Geordie, rushes around the goal the other way, Mamma, do you see?—passes + back to Reddy, his partner, who slips it in! And poor Jumbo was unable to + do anything. I believe he was still dazed from his terrible fall!” + </p> + <p> + Then Hugh breaks in: “It really was beautifully done.” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly was,” said Vic. + </p> + <p> + “Seven to six, Mamma, think of it! Seven to six, and two minutes of the + first overtime to play. Two minutes! It just seemed that our men could do + as they liked. The last time the whole forward lines came down, with + Macnamara and 'Jack' Johnson roaring and yelling like—like—I + don't know what. And they did the double-circle again! Think of it! And + then time was called. Oh, I am perfectly exhausted with this excitement!” + said Patricia, sinking back into her chair. “I don't believe I could go + down to that rink, not even for another game. It is terribly trying!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Rupert Stillwell came in, full of enthusiasm for the + Cornwalls' scientific hockey, and with grudging praise for the local team, + deploring their roughhouse tactics. But he met a sharp and unexpected + check, for Adrien took him in hand, in her quiet, cool, efficient manner. + </p> + <p> + “Roughhouse!” she said. “What do you mean exactly by that?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Rupert, somewhat taken aback, “for instance that charge of + Macnamara on Jumbo Larson at the last.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw that quite clearly,” said Adrien, “and it appeared to me quite all + right. It was Larson who made the most furious charge upon Macnamara.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it was,” cried Patricia, indignantly. “Jumbo deserved all he + got. Why, the way he mauled little Snoopy and Geordie Ross in the first + part of the game was perfectly horrid. Don't you think so, Hugh?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, hockey is not tiddly-winks, you know, Patricia, and—” + </p> + <p> + “As if I didn't know that!” broke in the girl indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “And Jumbo and Macnab,” continued Hugh, “really had to break up the + dangerous combination there. Of course that was a rotten assault on + Snoopy. It wasn't Jumbo's fault that he didn't break an ankle. As it was, + he gave him a very bad fall.” + </p> + <p> + At this Rupert laughed scornfully. “Rot,” he said, “the whole town is + laughing at all that bloody bandage business. It was a bit of stage play. + Very clever, I confess, but no hockey. I happen to know that Maitland was + quite hot about it.” + </p> + <p> + But Hugh and Vic only laughed at him. + </p> + <p> + “He is a clever little beggar, is Snoopy,” said Vic. + </p> + <p> + “But, meantime,” said Mrs. Templeton, “where is Jack! He was going to be + here, was he not?” + </p> + <p> + “Feasting and dancing, I expect,” said Rupert. “There is a big supper on, + given by the Mill management, and a dance afterwards—'hot time in + the old town,' eh?” + </p> + <p> + “A dance?” gasped Patricia. “A dance! Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Odd Fellows' Hall,” said Rupert. “Want to go? I have tickets. Don't care + for that sort of thing myself. Rather a mixed affair, I guess. Mill hands + and their girls.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” breathed Patricia, “I should love to go. Couldn't we?” + </p> + <p> + “But my dear Patricia,” said her mother, “a dance, with all those people? + What nonsense. But I wish Jack would drop in. I should so like to + congratulate him on his great victory.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do let us go, just for a few minutes, Mamma” entreated Patricia. + “Hugh, have you tickets?” + </p> + <p> + The men looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” confessed Vic, “I was thinking of dropping in myself. After all, + it is our home team and they are good sports. And Maitland handled them + with wonderful skill.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am going,” said Hugh. “I am bound to go as Captain of the Eagles, + and that sort of thing, but I would, anyway. Would you care to come, + Adrien, if Mrs. Templeton will allow you? Of course there are chaperons. + Maitland would see to that.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like awfully to go,” said Adrien eagerly. “We might, for a few + minutes, Mother? Of course, Patricia should be in bed, really.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Patricia's face fell. + </p> + <p> + “It is no place for any of you,” said the mother, decidedly. “Just think + of that mixed multitude! And you, Patricia, you should be in bed.” + </p> + <p> + “But oh, Mamma, dear,” wailed Patricia, “I can rest all day to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + At this point a new voice broke in to the discussion and Doctor Templeton + appeared. “Well, what's the excitement,” he enquired. “Oh, the match, of + course! Well, what was the result?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Daddy, we won, we won!” cried Patricia, springing at him. “The most + glorious match! Big Jumbo Larson, a perfect monster on the Cornwall + defence, was knocked out! Oh, it was a glorious match! And can't I go down + to see the dance? Adrien and Hugh and Vic are going. Only for a few + minutes,” she begged, with her arms around her father's neck. “Say yes, + Daddy!” + </p> + <p> + “Give me time; let me get my breath, Patricia. Now, do begin somewhere—say, + with the score.” + </p> + <p> + They all gave him the score. + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah!” cried the old doctor. “No one hurt—seriously, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Patricia, “except perhaps Jumbo Larson,” she added hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “The Lord was merciful to this family when he made you a girl, Patricia,” + said her father. + </p> + <p> + “But, Daddy, it was a wonderful game.” Quite breathlessly, she went once + more over the outstanding features of the play. + </p> + <p> + “Sounds rather bloody, I must say,” said her father, doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + But Hugh said: “It was not really—not quite so bad as Patricia makes + it, sir. Rough at times, of course, but, on the whole, clean.” + </p> + <p> + “Clean,” cried Patricia, “what about Jumbo's swing at Snoopy?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, Snoopy had the puck, you know. It was a little off-colour, I + must confess.” + </p> + <p> + “And now, Daddy,” said Patricia, going at her father again, “we all want + to go down to the dance. There will be speeches, you know, and I do want + to hear Captain Jack,” she added, not without guile. “Won't you let me go + with them? Hugh will take care of me.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I should rather like to go myself,” said her father. A shout of + approval rose from the whole company. “But,” continued the doctor, “I + don't think I can. My dear, I think they might go for a few minutes—and + you can bring me in a full account of the speeches, Patricia,” he added, + with a twinkle in his eye. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear,” exclaimed his wife, “this is one of those awful public + affairs. You can't imagine what they are like. The Mill hands will all be + there, and that sort of people.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, Jack Maitland will be there, I fancy, and you were + thinking of going, Hugh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I am going. Of course there will be a number of the friends of + both teams, townspeople. Of course the Mill hands will be there, too, in + large numbers. It will be great fun.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear,” said the doctor, “I think they might go down for a few + minutes. But be sure to be back before midnight. Remember, Patricia, you + are to do exactly as your sister says.” + </p> + <p> + Then Vic said: “I shall keep a firm hand on her, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you darling,” Patricia cried, hugging her father rapturously. “I will + be so good; and won't it be fun!” + </p> + <p> + Odd Fellows' Hall was elaborately decorated with bunting and evergreens. + The party from the Rectory, arriving in time to hear the closing speeches + of the two team captains, took their places in the gallery. The speeches + were brief and to the point. + </p> + <p> + The Captain of the visiting team declared that he had greatly enjoyed the + game. He was not quite convinced that the best team had won, but he would + say that the game had gone to the team that had put up the best play. He + complimented Captain Maitland upon his generalship. He had known Captain + Maitland in the old days and he ought to have been on the lookout for the + kind of thing he had put over. The Maitland Mill team had made a perfectly + wonderful recovery in the last quarter, though he rather thought his + friend Macnamara had helped it a little at a critical point. + </p> + <p> + “He did that,” exclaimed Jumbo Larson, with marked emphasis. + </p> + <p> + After the roar of laughter had quieted down, the Cornwall Captain closed + by expressing the hope that the Maitland Mill team would try for a place + next season in the senior hockey. In which case he expressed the hope that + he might have the pleasure of meeting them again. + </p> + <p> + Captain Maitland's speech was characteristic. He had nothing but praise + for the Cornwalls. They played a wonderful game and a clean game. He + shared in the doubt of their Captain as to which was the better team. He + frankly confessed that in the last quarter the luck came to his team. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it,” roared the Cornwalls with one voice. + </p> + <p> + As to his own team, he was particularly proud of the way they had taken + the training—their fine self-denial, and especially the never-dying + spirit which they showed. It was a great honour for his team to meet the + Cornwalls. A hard team to meet—sometimes—as Snoopy and himself + had found out that evening—but they were good sports and he hoped + some day to meet them again. + </p> + <p> + After the usual cheers for the teams, individually and collectively, for + their supporters, for the Mill management and for the ladies, the dinner + came to an end, the whole party joining with wide open throats and all + standing at attention, in the Canadian and the Empire national anthems. + </p> + <p> + While the supper table was being cleared away preparatory to the dance, + Captain Jack rushed upstairs to the party in the gallery. Patricia flung + herself at him in an ecstasy of rapture. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Captain Jack, you did win! You did win! You did win! It was glorious! + And that double-circle play that you and Snoopy put up—didn't it + work beautifully!” + </p> + <p> + “We were mighty lucky,” said Captain Jack. + </p> + <p> + The others, Hugh, Vic and Rupert, crowded round, offering congratulations. + Adrien waited behind, a wonderful light shining in her eyes, a faint + colour touching her pale cheek. Captain Jack came slowly forward. + </p> + <p> + “Are you not going to congratulate us, too, Adrien?” he said. + </p> + <p> + She moved a pace forward. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack,” she whispered, leaning toward him and breathing quickly, “it + was so like the old, the dear old days.” + </p> + <p> + Into Maitland's eyes there flashed a look of surprise, of wonder, then of + piercing scrutiny, while his face grew white. + </p> + <p> + “Adrien,” he said, in a voice low, tense, almost stern, which she alone + heard. “What do you mean? Then do you—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Captain Jack,” cried Patricia, catching his arm, “are you going to + dance? You are, aren't you? And will you give me—Oh, I daren't ask! + You are such a great hero to-night!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Patsy, will you give me a dance?” + </p> + <p> + The girl stood gazing at him with eyes that grew misty, the quick beating + of her loyal heart almost suffocating her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Captain Jack,” she gasped, “how many?” + </p> + <p> + Maitland laughed at her, and turned to her sister. + </p> + <p> + “And you, Adrien, may I have a dance?” + </p> + <p> + Again Adrien leaned toward him. + </p> + <p> + “One?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “And as many more as you can spare.” + </p> + <p> + “My program is quite empty, you see,” she said, flinging out her hands and + laughing joyously into his face. + </p> + <p> + “What about me? And me? And me?” said the other three men. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose we are all nowhere to-night,” added Rupert, with a touch of + bitterness in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there is only one conquering hero, you know,” replied Adrien, + smiling at them all. + </p> + <p> + “Now I must run off,” said Maitland. “You see, I am on duty, as it were. + Come down in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, go, Jack,” said Adrien, throwing him a warm smile. “We will follow + you in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am so excited!” said Patricia, as Maitland disappeared down the + stairs. “I mean to dance with every one of the team. I know I am going to + have a perfectly lovely time! But I would give them all up if I could have + Captain Jack all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Pig,” said her sister, smiling at her. + </p> + <p> + “Wretch,” cried Vic, making a face. + </p> + <p> + But Patricia was quite unabashed. “I am going to have him just as often as + I can,” she said, brazenly. + </p> + <p> + For a few minutes they stood watching the dancers on the floor below. It + was indeed, as Mrs. Templeton had said, a “mixed multitude.” Mill hands + and their girls, townsfolk whose social standing was sufficiently assured + to endure the venture. A mixed multitude, but thoroughly jolly, making up + in vigour what was lacking in grace in their exposition of the + Terpsichorean art. + </p> + <p> + “Rather ghastly,” said Rupert, who appeared to be quite disgusted with the + whole evening's proceedings. + </p> + <p> + “Lovely!” exclaimed Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “They are enjoying themselves, at any rate,” said Adrien, “and, after all, + that is what people dance for.” + </p> + <p> + “Stacks of fun. I am all for it, eh, Pat?” said Vic, making adoring eyes + at the young girl. + </p> + <p> + But Patricia severely ignored him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Adrien, look!” she cried suddenly. “There is Annette, and who is the + big man with her? Oh, what an awful dancer he is! But Annette, isn't she + wonderful! What a lovely dress! I think she is the most beautiful thing.” + And Patricia was right, for Annette was radiant in colour and + unapproachable in the grace of her movement. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! She is a wonder!” said Vic. “Some dancer, if she only had a + chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, why don't you go down, Vic,” said Patricia sharply. “You know you + are just aching to show off your fox trot. Run away, little boy, I won't + mind.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you would,” replied Vic ruefully. + </p> + <p> + For some minutes longer they all stood watching the scene below. + </p> + <p> + “They are a jolly crowd,” said Adrien. “I don't think we have half the fun + at our dances.” + </p> + <p> + “They certainly get a lot for their money,” said Vic. “But wait till they + come to 'turkey-in-the-straw!' That is where they really cut loose.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” cried Patricia. “I can 'turkey' myself. Just wait and you'll + see.” + </p> + <p> + “So can I,” murmured Vic. “Will you let me in on it? Hello,” he continued, + “there is the Captain and Annette. Now look out for high art. I know the + Captain's style. And a two-step! My eye! She is a little airy fairy!” + </p> + <p> + “How beautifully she dances,” said Adrien. “And how charmingly she is + dressed.” + </p> + <p> + “They do hit it off, don't they,” said Rupert. “They evidently know each + other's paces.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Adrien turned to Hugh: “Don't you think we should go down?” she + asked. “You know we must not stay late.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, do come along!” cried Patricia, seizing Victor by the arm and + hurrying to the stairs, the others making their way more leisurely to the + dancing room. + </p> + <p> + The hall was a scene of confused hilarity. Maitland was nowhere to be + seen. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! let us dance, Vic!” cried Patricia. “There is really no use waiting + for Captain Jack. At any rate, Adrien will claim the first dance.” + </p> + <p> + No second invitation was needed and together they swung off into the + medley of dancers. + </p> + <p> + “We may as well follow,” said Hugh. “We shall doubtless run into Maitland + somewhere before long.” + </p> + <p> + But not in that dance, nor in the three successive dances did Maitland + appear. The precious moments were slipping by. Patricia was becoming more + and more anxious and fretful at the non-appearance of her hero. Also, Hugh + began to notice and detect a lagging in his partner's step. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we go out into the corridor?” he said. “This air is beginning to be + rather trying.” + </p> + <p> + From the crowded hall they passed into the corridor, from which opened + side rooms which were used as dressing and retiring rooms, and whose + entrances were cleverly screened by a row of thick spruce trees set up for + the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “This is better,” said Hugh, drawing a deep breath. “Shall we sit a bit + and rest?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do let us,” said Adrien. “This has been a strenuous and exciting + evening. I really feel quite done out. Here is a most inviting seat.” + </p> + <p> + Wearily she sat down on a bench which faced the entrance to one of the + rooms. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I bring you a glass of water or an ice, Adrien?” inquired Hugh, + noting the pallor in her face. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. A glass of water, if you will be so kind. How deliciously + fragrant that spruce is.” + </p> + <p> + As her partner set off upon his errand, Adrien stepped to the spruce tree + which screened the open door of the room opposite, and taking the bosky + branches in her hands, she thrust her face into the aromatic foliage. + </p> + <p> + “How deliciously fragrant,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, as if stabbed by a spine in the trees, she started back and + stood gazing through the thick branches into the room beyond There stood + Maitland and Annette, the girl, with her face tearfully pale and pleading, + uplifted to his and with her hands gripped tight and held fast in his, + clasped against his breast. More plainly than words her face, her eyes, + her attitude told her tale. She was pouring out her very soul to him in + entreaty, and he was giving eager, sympathetic heed to her appeal. + </p> + <p> + Swiftly Adrien stepped back from the screening tree, her face white as if + from a stunning blow, her heartbeats checking her breath. Quickly, + blindly, she ran down the corridor. At the very end she met Hugh with a + glass of water in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, Adrien? Have you seen a ghost?” he cried in an + anxious voice. + </p> + <p> + She caught the glass from his hand and began to drink, at first greedily, + then more slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she said, drawing a deep breath. “That is good. Do you know, I was + almost overcome. The air of that room is quite deadly. Now I am all right. + Let us get a breath from the outside, Hugh.” + </p> + <p> + Taking him by the arm, she hastened him to the farther end of the corridor + and opened the door. “Oh, delicious!” She drew in deep breaths of the + cold, fresh air. + </p> + <p> + “How wonderful the night is, Hugh.” She leaned far out, “and the snow was + like a cloth of silver and diamonds in this glorious moon.” She stooped, + and from a gleaming bank beside the door she caught up a double handful of + the snow and, packing it into a little ball, flung it at her partner, + catching him fairly on the ear. + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” she cried. “Don't ever say a woman is a poor shot. Now then,” she + added, stamping her feet free from the clinging flakes and waving her + hands in the air to dry them, “I feel fit for anything. Let us have one + more dance before we go home, for I feel we really must go.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure you are quite fit?” inquired Hugh, still anxious for her. + </p> + <p> + “Fit? Look at me!” Her cheeks were bright with colour, her eyes with + light. + </p> + <p> + “You surely do look fit,” said Hugh, beaming at her with frank admiration. + “But you were all in a few moments ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along. There is a way into the hall by this door,” she cried, + catching his hand and hurrying him into the dancing room again. + </p> + <p> + At the conclusion of their dance they came upon Patricia near the main + entrance, in great distress. “I have not seen Captain Jack anywhere,” she + lamented. “Have you, Adrien? I have just sent Vic for a final search. I + simply cannot go home till I have had my dance.” The girl was almost in + tears. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, dear,” said Adrien. “He has many duties to-night with all + these players to look after. I think we had better go whenever Vic + returns. I am awfully sorry for you, Patricia,” she added. “No! Don't! You + simply must not cry here.” She put her arm around her sister's shoulder, + her own lips trembling, and drew her close. “Where has Vic gone, I + wonder?” + </p> + <p> + That young man, however, was having his own trials. In his search for + Maitland he ran across McNish, whom he recognised as Annette's partner in + the first dance. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” he cried. “Do you know where Captain Maitland is, by any chance?” + </p> + <p> + “No, how should I know,” replied McNish, in a voice fiercely guttural. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Vic, somewhat abashed. “I saw you dance with Annette—with + Miss Perrotte—and I thought perhaps you might know where the Captain + was.” + </p> + <p> + McNish stood glowering at him for a moment or two, then burst forth: + </p> + <p> + “They are awa'—he's ta'en her awa'.” + </p> + <p> + “Away,” said Vic. “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “To hell for all I ken or care.” + </p> + <p> + Then with a single stride McNish was close at his side, gripping his arm + with fingers that seemed to reach the bone. + </p> + <p> + “Ye're a friend o' his. Let me say tae ye if ony ill cames tae her, by the + leevin' God above us he wull answer tae me.” Hoarse, panting, his face + that of a maniac, he stood glaring wild-eyed at the young man before him. + To say that Vic was shaken by this sudden and violent onslaught would be + much within the truth. Nevertheless he boldly faced the passion-distracted + man. + </p> + <p> + “Look here! I don't know who you are or what you mean,” he said, in as + steady tones as he could summon, “but if you suggest that any girl will + come to harm from Captain Maitland, then I say you are a liar and a fool.” + So speaking, little Vic set himself for the rush which he was firmly + convinced would come. McNish, however, stood still, fighting for control. + Then, between his deep-drawn breaths, he slowly spoke: + </p> + <p> + “Ye may be richt. A hope tae God A am baith liar and fule.” The agony in + his face moved Vic to pity. + </p> + <p> + “I say, old chap,” he said, “you are terribly mistaken somehow, I can + swear to that. Where is Maitland, anyway, do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “They went away together.” McNish had suddenly gotten himself in hand. + “They went away in his car, secretly.” + </p> + <p> + “Secretly,” said Vic, scornfully. “Now, that is perfect rot. Look here, do + you know Captain Maitland? I am his friend, and let me tell you that all I + ever hope to own, here and hereafter, and all my relatives and friends, I + would gladly trust with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe, maybe,” muttered McNish. “Ye may be richt. A apologise, sir, but + if—” His eyes blazed again. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, cut out the tragedy stuff,” said Vic, “and don't be an ass. + Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + Vic turned on his heel and left McNish standing in a dull and dazed + condition, and made his way toward the ballroom. + </p> + <p> + “Who is the Johnny, anyway?” he said to himself. “He is mad—looney—utterly + bughouse. Needs a keeper in the worst way. But what about the Captain—must + think up something. Let's see. Taken suddenly ill? Hardly—there is + the girl to account for. Her mother—grandmother—or something—stricken—let's + see. Annette has a brother—By Jove! the very thing—I've got it—brother + met with an accident—run over—fell down a well—anything. + Hurry call—ambulance stuff. Good line. Needs working up a bit, + though. What has happened to my grey matter? Let me think. Ah, yes—when + that Johnny brought word of an accident, a serious accident to her + brother, Maitland, naturally enough, the gallant soul, hurries her off in + his car, sending word by aforesaid mad Johnny.” + </p> + <p> + Vic went to the outer door, feeling the necessity for a somewhat careful + conning of his tale to give it, as he said himself, a little artistic + verisimilitude. Then, with his lesson—as he thought—well + learned, and praying for aid of unknown gods, he went back to find his + partner. + </p> + <p> + “If only Patricia will keep out of it,” he said to himself as he neared + the hall door, “or if I could only catch old Hugh first. But he is not + much of a help in this sort of thing. Dash it all! I am quite nervous. + This will never do. Must find a way—good effect—cool and + collected stuff.” So, ruminating and praying and moving ever more slowly, + he reached the door. Coming in sight of his party, he hurried to meet + them. “Awfully sorry!” he exclaimed excitedly. “The most rotten luck! Old + Maitland's just been called off.” + </p> + <p> + “Called off!” cried Patricia, in dismay. “Where to!” + </p> + <p> + “Now, don't jump at me like that. Remember my heart. Met that Johnny—the + big chap dancing with Annette, you know—just met him—quite + worked up—a hurry call for the girl—for the girl, Annette, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “The girl!” exclaimed Patricia. “You said Captain Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “I know! I know!” replied Vic, somewhat impatiently. “I am a bit excited, + I confess. Rather nasty thing—Annette's brother, you know—something + wrong—accident, I think. Couldn't get the particulars.” + </p> + <p> + “But Annette's brother is in Toronto,” said Adrien, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly!” cried Vic. “That is what I have been telling you. A hurry call—phone + message for Annette—horrible accident. Maitland rushed her right + away in his car to catch the midnight to Toronto.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! That is too bad,” said Hugh, a genuine sympathy in his honest + voice. “That is hard luck on poor Annette. Tony is not exactly a safe + proposition, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he—is he killed?” cried Patricia, in a horror-stricken voice. + </p> + <p> + “Killed! Not a bit of it,” said Vic cheerfully. “Slight injury—but + serious, I mean. You know, just enough to cause anxiety.” Vic lit another + cigarette with ostentatious deliberation. “Nasty shock, you know,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + “Who told you all this?” inquired Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “Who told me?” said Vic. “Why, that mad Johnny.” + </p> + <p> + “Mad Johnny? What mad Johnny?” + </p> + <p> + Vic said: “Eh! What? You know, that—ahr—big chap who was + falling over her in the fox trot. Looked kind of crazy, you know—big + chap—Scotch.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he now?” enquired Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I fancy about there, somewhere,” replied Vic, remembering that he had + seen McNish moving toward the door. “Better go and look him up and get + more particulars. Might help some, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Adrien, let us go to her,” said Patricia. “I am sure Annette would + love to have you. Poor Annette!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I say!” interposed Vic hurriedly. “There is really no necessity. I + shouldn't like to intrude in family affairs and that sort of thing, you + know what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + Adrien's grave, quiet eyes were upon Vic's face. “You think we had better + not go, then,” she said slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing!” replied Vic, with cheerful optimism. “There is no necessity—slight + accident—no need to make a fuss about it.” + </p> + <p> + “But you said it was a serious accident—a terrible thing,” said + Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, now, Patricia, come out of it. You check a fellow up so hard. Can't + you understand the Johnny was so deucedly worked up over it he couldn't + give me the right of it. Dash it all! Let's have another turn, Patricia!” + </p> + <p> + But Adrien said: “I think we will go home, Hugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, if you think so, Adrien. I don't fancy you need worry over + Annette. The accident probably is serious but not dangerous. Tony is a + tough fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly!” exclaimed Vic. “Just as I have been telling you. Serious, but + not dangerous. At least, that was the impression I got.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Vic, you are so terribly confusing!” exclaimed Patricia. “Why can't + you get things straight? I say, Adrien, we can ride round to Annette's on + our way home, and then we will get things quite clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Hugh. “It will only take us a minute. Eh, what!” he + added to Vic, who was making frantic grimaces at him. “Well, if you ladies + will get your things, we will go.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am so disappointed,” said Patricia to Adrien, as they went to their + dressing room together. + </p> + <p> + After they had gone, Hugh turned upon Vic: “Now then, what the deuce and + all are you driving at?” + </p> + <p> + “Driving at!” cried Vic, in an exasperated tone. “You are a sweet support + for a fellow in distress. I am a nervous wreck—a perfect mess. + Another word from that kid and I should have run screaming into the night. + And as for you, why the deuce didn't you buck up and help a fellow out?” + </p> + <p> + “Help you out? How in the name of all that is reasonable could I help you + out? What is all the yarn about? Of course I know it isn't true. Where's + Maitland?” + </p> + <p> + “Search me,” said Vic. “All I know is that I hit upon that Scotch Johnny + out in the hall—he nearly wrenched an arm off me and did everything + but bite—spitting out incoherent gaspings indicating that Maitland + had 'gone awa' wi' his gur-r-l, confound him!' and suggesting the usual + young Lochinvar stuff. You know—nothing in it, of course. But what + was I to do? Some tale was necessary! Fortunately or unfortunately, + brother Tony sprang to the thing I call my mind and—well, you know + the mess I made of it. But Hugh, remember, for heaven's sake, make talk + about something—about the match—and get that girl quietly + home. I bag the back seat and Adrien. It is hard on me, I know, but + fifteen minutes more of Patsy and I shall be counting my tootsies and + prattling nursery rhymes. Here they come,” he breathed. “Now, 'a little + forlorn hope, deadly breach act, if you love me, Hardy.' Play up, old + boy!” + </p> + <p> + And with commendable enthusiasm and success, Hugh played up, supported—as + far as his physical and mental condition allowed—by the enfeebled + Vic, till they had safely deposited their charges at the Rectory door, + whence, refusing an invitation to stop for cocoa, they took their homeward + way. + </p> + <p> + “'And from famine, pestilence and sudden death,' and from the once-over by + that penetrating young female, 'good Lord, deliver us,'” murmured Vic, + falling into the seat beside his friend. “Take me home to mother,” he + added, and refused further speech till at his own door. He waved a weak + adieu and staggered feebly into the house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + THE NEW MANAGER + </h3> + <p> + Grant Maitland sat in his office, plainly disturbed in his mind. His + resolute face, usually reflecting the mental repose which arises from the + consciousness of a strength adequate to any emergency, carried lines which + revealed a mind which had lost its poise. Reports from his foremen + indicated brooding trouble, and this his own observation within the last + few weeks confirmed. Production was noticeably falling low. The attitude + of the workers suggested suspicion and discontent. That fine glow of + comradeship which had been characteristic of all workers in the Maitland + Mills had given place to a sullen aloofness and a shiftiness of eye that + all too plainly suggested evil forces at work. + </p> + <p> + During the days immediately preceding and following the Great Match, there + had been a return of that frank and open bearing that had characterised + the employees of the Maitland Mills in the old days, but that fleeting + gleam of sunshine had faded out and the old grey shadow of suspicion, of + discontent, had fallen again. To Maitland this attitude brought a + disappointment and a resentment which sensibly added to his burden, + already heavy enough in these days of weakening markets and falling + prices. In his time he had come through periods of financial depression. + He was prepared for one such period now, but he had never passed through + the unhappy experience of a conflict with his own employees. Not that he + had ever feared a fight, but he shrank from a fight with his own men. It + humiliated him. He felt it to be a reflection upon his system of + management, upon his ability to lead and control, indeed, upon his + personality. But, more than all, it grieved him to feel that he had lost + that sense of comradeship which for forty years he had been able to + preserve with those who toiled with him in a common enterprise. + </p> + <p> + A sense of loneliness fell upon him. Like many a man, self-made and + self-sufficing, he craved companionship which his characteristic qualities + of independence and strength seemed to render unnecessary and undesired. + The experience of all leaders of men was his, for the leader is ever a + lonely man. + </p> + <p> + This morning the reports he had just received convinced him that a strike + with his workers would not long be delayed. “If I only knew what they + really wanted,” he bitterly mused. “It cannot be wages. Their wages are + two or three times what they were before the war—shop conditions are + all that could be desired—the Lord knows I have spent enough in this + welfare stuff and all that sort of thing during these hard times. I have + heard of no real grievances. I am sick of it all. I guess I am growing too + old for this sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + There was a tap at the door and his son appeared, with a cheery greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, Jack,” said his father, “I believe you are the very man I want.” + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Dad. You look as if you were in trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied his father with a keen look at him, “I think I may return + the compliment.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, but perhaps I should not bother you. You have all you can + carry.” + </p> + <p> + “All I can carry,” echoed Maitland, picking up the reports from his desk + and handing them to his son, who glanced over them. “Things are not going + well at the mills. No, you needn't tell me. You know I never ask you for + any confidences about your brother unionists.” + </p> + <p> + “Right you are, Dad. You have always played the game.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I must confess this is beyond me. Everywhere on the men's faces I + catch that beastly look of distrust and suspicion. I hate to work with men + like that. And very obviously, trouble is brewing, but what it is, + frankly, it is beyond me to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is hardly a secret any longer,” said Jack. “Trouble is coming, + Dad, though what form it shall take I am not in a position to say. Union + discipline is a fierce thing. The rank and file are not taken into the + confidence of the leaders. Policies are decided upon in the secret + councils of the Great Ones and handed down to us to adopt. Of course, it + is open to any man to criticise, and I am bound to say that the rankers + exercise that privilege with considerable zest. All the same, however, it + is difficult to overturn an administration, hard to upset established + order. The thing that is, is the thing that ought to be. Rejection of an + administration policy demands revolution.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said his father, taking the sheets from Jack's hand, “we needn't + go to meet the trouble. Now, let us have yours. What is your particular + grief?” + </p> + <p> + “Tony,” said Jack shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Tony?” echoed his father in dismay. “Heaven help us! And what now has + come to Tony? Though I must confess I have been expecting this for some + time. It had to come.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a long story, Dad, and I shan't worry you with the details. As you + know, after leaving us, Tony went from one job to another with the curve + steadily downwards. For the last few months, I gather, he has been living + on his wits, helped out by generous contributions from his sister's wages. + Finally he was given a subordinate position under 'The Great War Veterans' + who have really been very decent to him. This position involved the + handling of funds—no great amount. Then it was the old story—gambling + and drinking—the loss of all control—desperate straits—hoping + to recoup his losses—and you know the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Embezzlement?” asked Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, embezzlement,” said Jack. “Tony is not a thief. He didn't + deliberately steal, you understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Jack,” said his father, sharply, “get that out of your head. There is no + such distinction in law or in fact. Stealing is stealing, whatever the + motive behind it, whatever the plan governing it, by whatever name + called.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't really mean anything else, Dad. Tony did the thing, at any rate, + and the cops were on his trail. He got into hiding, sent an S. O. S. to + his sister. Annette, driven to desperation, came to me with her story the + night of the Match. She was awfully cut up, poor girl. I had to leave the + dance and go right off to Toronto. Too late for the train, I drove + straight through,—ghastly roads,—found Tony, fetched him back, + and up till yesterday he has been hiding in his own home. Meantime, I + managed to get things fixed up—paid his debts, the prosecution is + withdrawn and now he wants,—or, rather, he doesn't want but needs, a + job.” + </p> + <p> + Maitland listened with a grave face. “Then the little girl was right, + after all,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Meaning?” + </p> + <p> + “Patricia,” said his father. “She told me a long story of a terrible + accident to Tony that had called you away to Toronto. I must say it was + rather incoherent.” + </p> + <p> + “But who told her? I swear not a soul knew but his people and myself,” + said Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Strange how things get out,” said his father. “Well, where is Tony now?” + </p> + <p> + “Here, in the outer office.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Maitland, desperately, “where can we place him? He is + impossible in any position—dangerous in the office, useless as a + foreman, doubtful and uncertain as a workman.” + </p> + <p> + “One thing is quite certain,” said Jack decidedly, “he must be under + discipline. He is useless on his own. I thought that perhaps he might work + beside me. I could keep an eye on him. Tony has nothing in him to work + with. I should like to hear old Matheson on him—the Reverend Murdo, + I mean. That is a great theme of his—'To the man who has nothing you + can give nothing.'” + </p> + <p> + “Matheson?” said Maitland. “A chum of yours, I understand. Radical, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “A very decent sort, father,” replied Jack. “I have been doing a little + economics with him during the winter. His radicalism is of a sound type, I + think. He is a regular bear at economics and he is even better at the + humanity business, the brother-man stuff. He is really sound there.” + </p> + <p> + “I can guess what you mean,” said his father, “though I don't quite catch + on to all your jargon. But I confess that I suspect there is a whole lot + of nonsense associated with these theories.” + </p> + <p> + “You will pardon me, Dad,” said Jack, “if I suggest that your education is + really not yet complete.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose is?” inquired his father, curtly. + </p> + <p> + “But about Tony,” continued Jack, “I wish I had him in a gang under me. I + would work him, or break his neck.” + </p> + <p> + His father sat silently pondering for some minutes. Then, as if making a + sudden resolve, he said: “Jack, I have been wanting to speak with you + about something for some weeks. I have come to a place where it is + imperative that I get some relief from my load. You see, I am carrying the + whole burden of management practically alone. I look after the financing, + the markets, I keep an eye on production and even upon the factory + management. In normal conditions I could manage to get along, but in these + critical days, when every department calls for close, constant and sane + supervision, I feel that I must have relief. If I could be relieved of the + job of shop management, I could give myself to the other departments where + the situation at present is extremely critical. I want a manager, Jack. + Why not take the job? Now,” he continued, holding up his hand, as his son + was about to speak, “listen for a moment or two. I have said the situation + is serious. Let me explain that. The financing of this business in the + present crisis requires a man's full time and energy. Markets, credits, + collections, all demand the very closest attention.” + </p> + <p> + Jack glanced at his father's face. For the first time he noticed how + deep-cut were the lines that indicated care, anxiety and worry. A sudden + remorse seized him. + </p> + <p> + “I am awfully sorry, sir,” he said, “I have not been of much help to you.” + </p> + <p> + Maitland waved his hand as if dismissing the suggestion. “Now you know + nothing of the financial side, but you do know men and you can handle + them. You proved that in the war, and, in another way, you proved that + during this recent athletic contest. I followed that very closely and I + say without hesitation that it was a remarkably fine bit of work and the + reactions were of the best. Jack, I believe that you would make a great + manager if you gave yourself to it, and thought it worth while. Now, + listen to me.” Thereupon the father proceeded to lay before his son the + immediately pressing problems in the business—the financial + obligations already assumed, the heavy accumulation of stock for which + there were no markets, the increasing costs in production with no hope of + relief, but rather every expectation of added burdens in this direction. + </p> + <p> + As he listened to his father, Jack was appalled with what he considered + the overwhelmingly disastrous situation in which the business was placed. + At the same time he saw his father in a new light. This silent, stern, + reserved man assumed a role of hero in his eyes, facing desperate odds and + silently fighting a lonely and doubtful battle. The son was smitten with a + sense of his own futility. In him was born a desire and a resolve to stand + beside his father in this conflict and if the battle went against them, to + share in the defeat. + </p> + <p> + “Dad,” cried his son impulsively, “I am a rotter. I have been of no help + to you, but only a burden. I had no idea the situation was so serious.” + Remorse and alarm showed in his tone. + </p> + <p> + “Don't misunderstand me,” said his father. “This is new to you and appears + more serious than it is. There is really no ground, or little ground, for + anxiety or alarm. Let me give you the other side.” Then he proceeded to + set forth the resources of the business, the extent of his credit, his + plans to meet the present situation and to prepare for possible + emergencies. “We are not at the wall yet, by any means, Jack,” he said, + his voice ringing out with a resolute courage. “But I am bound to say that + if any sudden or untoward combination of circumstances, a strike, for + instance, should arise, disaster might follow.” + </p> + <p> + Jack's heart sank still lower. He was practically certain that a strike + was imminent. Although without any official confirmation of his + suspicions, he had kept his eyes and ears opened and he was convinced that + trouble was unavoidable. As his father continued to set forth his plans, + his admiration for him grew. He brought to bear upon the problems with + which he was grappling a clear head, wide knowledge and steady courage. He + was a general, planning a campaign in the face of serious odds. He + recalled a saying of his old Commander-in-Chief in France: “War is a + business and will be won by the application of business principles and + business methods. Given a body of fighting men such as I command, the + thing becomes a problem of transportation, organization, reserve, + insurance. War is a business and will be won by fighting men directed or + governed by business principles.” He was filled with regret that he had + not given himself more during these last months to the study of these + principles. The prospect of a fight against impending disaster touched his + imagination and stimulated him like a bugle call. + </p> + <p> + “I see what you want, father,” he said. “You want to have some good N. C. + O.'s. The N. C. O. is the backbone of the army,” he quoted with a grin. + </p> + <p> + “N. C. O?” echoed his father. He was not sufficiently versed in military + affairs to catch the full meaning of the army rag. + </p> + <p> + “What I mean is,” said Jack, “that no matter how able a military commander + is, he must have efficient subordinates to carry on. No Colonel can do his + own company and platoon work.” + </p> + <p> + His father nodded: “You've got it, Jack. I want a manager to whom I can + entrust a policy without ever having to think of it again. I don't want a + man who gets on top of the load, but one who gets under it.” + </p> + <p> + “You want a good adjutant, father, and a sergeant-major.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” said the father, “although your military terms are a + little beyond me. After all, the thing is simple enough. On the management + side, we want increase in production, which means decrease in production + costs, and this means better organization of the work and the workers.” + </p> + <p> + Jack nodded and after a moment, said: “May I add, sir, one thing more?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “Team play,” said Jack. “That is my specialty, you know. Individualism in + a game may be spectacularly attractive, but it doesn't get the goal.” + </p> + <p> + “Team play,” said his father. “Co-operation, I suppose you mean. My dear + boy, this is no time for experimentation in profit-sharing schemes, if + that is what you are after. Anyway, the history of profiteering schemes as + I have read it is not such as to warrant entire confidence in their + soundness. You cannot change the economic system overnight.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true enough, Dad,” said his son, “and perhaps I am a fool. But I + remember, and you remember, what everybody said, and especially what the + experts said, about the military methods and tactics before the war. You + say you cannot change the economic system overnight, and yet the whole + military system was changed practically overnight. In almost every + particular, there was a complete revolution. Cavalry, fortress defences, + high explosives, the proper place for machine guns, field tactics, in + fact, the whole business was radically changed. And if we hadn't changed, + they would be speaking German in the schools of England, like enough, by + this time.” + </p> + <p> + “Jack, you may be right,” said his father, with a touch of impatience, + “but I don't want to be worried just now. It is easy enough for your + friend, Matheson, and other academic industrial directors, to suggest + experiments with other people's money. If we could only get production, I + would not mind very much what wages we had to pay. But I confess when + industrial strife is added to my other burdens, it is almost more than I + can bear.” + </p> + <p> + “I am awfully sorry, Dad,” replied his son. “I have no wish to worry you, + but how are you going to get production? Everybody says it has fallen off + terribly during and since the war. How are you going to bring it up? Not + by the pay envelope, I venture to say, and that is why I suggested team + play. And I am not thinking about co-operative schemes of management, + either. Some way must be found to interest the fellows in their job, in + the work itself, as distinct from the financial returns. Unless the chaps + are interested in the game, they won't get the goals.” + </p> + <p> + “My boy,” said his father wearily, “that old interest in work is gone. + That old pride in work which we used to feel when I was at the job myself, + is gone. We have a different kind of workman nowadays.” + </p> + <p> + “Dad, don't believe that,” said Jack. “Remember the same thing was said + before the war. We used to hear all about that decadent race stuff. The + war proved it to be all rot. The race is as fine as ever it was. Our + history never produced finer fighting men.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be right,” said his father. “If we could only get rid of these + cursed agitators.” + </p> + <p> + “There again, Dad, if you will excuse me, I believe you are mistaken. I + have been working with these men for the last nine months, I have attended + very regularly the meetings of their unions and I have studied the whole + situation with great care. The union is a great institution. I am for it + heart and soul. It is soundly and solidly democratic, and the agitators + cut very little figure. I size up the whole lot about this way: Fifty per + cent of the men are steady-going fellows with ambition to climb; + twenty-five per cent are content to grub along for the day's pay and with + no great ambition worrying them. Of the remainder, ten per cent are + sincere and convinced reformers, more or less half-baked intellectuals; + ten per cent love the sound of their own voices, hate work and want to + live by their jaw, five per cent only are unscrupulous and selfish + agitators. But, Dad, believe me, fire-brands may light fires, but solid + fagots only can keep fires going. You cannot make conflagrations out of + torches alone.” + </p> + <p> + “That is Matheson, I suppose,” said his father, smiling at him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I own up. I have got a lot of stuff from Matheson. All the same I + believe I have fairly sized up the labour situation.” + </p> + <p> + “Boy, boy,” said his father, “I am tired of it all. I believe with some + team play you and I could make it go. Alone, I am not so sure. Will you + take the job?” + </p> + <p> + There was silence between them for a few minutes. Then Jack answered + slowly: “I am not sure of myself at all, Dad, but I can see you must have + someone and I am willing to try the planing mill.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, boy,” said his father, stretching his hand quickly across the + table, “I will back you up and won't worry you. Within reasonable limits I + will give you a free hand.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you will, Dad,” said Jack, “and of course I have been in the army + long enough to know the difference between the O. C. and the + sergeant-major.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, what about Tony?” inquired Maitland, reverting suddenly to what both + felt to be a painful and perplexing problem. “What are we to do with him?” + </p> + <p> + “I will take him on,” said Jack. “I suppose I must.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be a heavy handicap to you, boy. Is there no other way?” + </p> + <p> + “I see no other way,” Jack replied. “I will give him a trial. Shall I + bring him in?” + </p> + <p> + “Bring him in.” + </p> + <p> + In a minute or two Jack returned with Tony. As Maitland's eyes fell upon + him, he could not prevent a start of shocked surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Tony!” he exclaimed. “What in all the world is wrong with you? You + are ill.” Trembling, pale, obviously unstrung, Tony stood before him, his + shifty eyes darting now at one face, then at the other, his hands + restless, his whole appearance suggesting an imminent nervous collapse. + “Why, Tony, boy, what is wrong with you?” repeated Maitland. The kindly + tone proved too much for Tony's self-control. He gulped, choked, and stood + speechless, his eyes cast down to the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Tony,” said Maitland. “Give him a chair, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + But Jack said, “He doesn't need a chair. He is not here for a visit. You + wanted to say something to him, did you not?” Jack's dry, matter-of-fact + and slightly contemptuous tone had an instant and extraordinary effect + upon the wretched man beside him. + </p> + <p> + Instantly, Tony stiffened up. His head went back, he cast a swift glance + at Jack's face, whose smile, slightly quizzical, slightly contemptuous, + appeared to bite into his vitals. A hot flame of colour swept his pale and + pasty face. + </p> + <p> + “I want a job, sir,” he said, in a tone low and fierce, looking straight + at Mr. Maitland. + </p> + <p> + Maitland, taking his cue from his son, replied in a quiet voice: “Can you + hold a job?” + </p> + <p> + “God knows,” said Tony. + </p> + <p> + “He does,” replied Maitland, “but what about you?” + </p> + <p> + Tony stood for a few moments saying nothing, darting uncertain glances now + and then at Jack, on whose face still lingered the smile which Tony found + so disturbing. + </p> + <p> + “If you want work,” continued Mr. Maitland, “and want to make it go, Tony, + you can go with Jack. He will give it to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Jack!” exclaimed Tony. His face was a study. Uncertainty, fear, hope, + disappointment were all there. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Jack,” said Mr. Maitland. “He is manager in these works now.” + </p> + <p> + Tony threw back his head and laughed. “I guess I will have to work, then,” + he said. + </p> + <p> + “You just bet you will, Tony,” replied Jack. “Come along, we will go.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “I am taking you home. See you to-night, sir,” Jack added, nodding to his + father. + </p> + <p> + The two young men passed out together to the car. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Tony,” said Jack, “I have taken over your job.” + </p> + <p> + “My job? What do you mean by that?” asked Tony, bitter and sullen in face + and tone. + </p> + <p> + “I am the new manager of the planing mill. Dad had you slated for that + position, but you hadn't manager-timber in you.” + </p> + <p> + Tony's answer was an oath, deep and heartfelt. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Jack, “manager-timber is rare and slow-growing stuff, + Tony.” + </p> + <p> + Again Tony swore but kept silence, and so remained till they had reached + his home. Together they walked into the living room. There they found + Annette, and with her McNish. Both rose upon their entrance, McNish + showing some slight confusion, and assuming the attitude of a bulldog on + guard, Annette vividly eager, expectant, anxious. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she cried, her hands going fluttering to her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “I have got a job, Annette,” said Tony, with a short laugh. “Here is my + boss.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment the others stood looking at Jack, surprised into motionless + silence. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, he is the new manager,” repeated Tony, “and he is my boss.” + </p> + <p> + “What does he mean, Jack?” cried the girl, coming forward to Maitland with + a quick, impulsive movement. + </p> + <p> + “Just what he says, Annette. I am the new manager of the planing mill and + I have given Tony a job.” + </p> + <p> + Again there fell a silence. Into the eyes of the bulldog McNish there shot + a strange gleam of something that seemed almost like pleasure. In those + brief moments of silence life was readjusting itself with them all. + Maitland had passed from the rank and file of the workers into the class + of those who direct and control their work. Bred as they were and trained + as they were in the democratic atmosphere of Canada, they were immediately + conscious of the shifting of values. + </p> + <p> + Annette was the first to break silence. “I wish I could thank you,” she + said, “but I cannot. I cannot.” The girl's face had changed. The eager + light had faded from her dark eyes, her hands dropped quietly to her side. + “But I am sure you know,” she added after a pause, “how very, very + grateful I am, how grateful we all are, Mr. Maitland.” + </p> + <p> + “Annette,” said Jack severely, “drop that 'Mr.' stuff. I was your friend + yesterday. Am I any less your friend to-day? True enough, I am Tony's + boss, but Tony is my friend—that is, if he wants to have it so. You + must believe this, Annette.” + </p> + <p> + He offered her his hand. With a sudden impulse she took it in both of hers + and held it hard against her breast, her eyes meanwhile burning into his + with a look of adoration, open and unashamed. She apparently forgot the + others in the room. + </p> + <p> + “Jack,” she cried, her voice thrilling with passion, “I don't care what + you are. I don't care what you think. I will never, never forget what you + have done for me.” + </p> + <p> + Maitland flung a swift glance at McNish and was startled at the look of + rage, of agonised rage, that convulsed his face. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Annette,” he said, with a light laugh, “don't make too much of + it. I was glad to help Tony and you. Why shouldn't I help old friends?” + </p> + <p> + As he was speaking they heard the sound of a door closing and looking + about, Jack found that McNish had gone, to be followed by Tony a moment or + two later. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind him,” cried Annette, answering Jack's look of surprise. + “He has to go to work. And it doesn't matter in the least.” + </p> + <p> + Jack was vaguely disturbed by McNish's sudden disappearance. + </p> + <p> + “But, Annette,” he said, “I don't want McNish to think that I—that + you—” + </p> + <p> + “What?” She leaned toward him, her face all glowing with warm and eager + light, her eyes aflame, her bosom heaving. “What, Jack?” she whispered. + “What does it matter what he thinks?” + </p> + <p> + He put out his hands. With a quick, light step she was close to him, her + face lifted up in passionate surrender. Swiftly Jack's arms went around + her and he drew her toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Annette, dear,” he said, and his voice was quiet and kind, too kind. “You + are a dear girl and a good girl, and I am glad to have helped you and + shall always be glad to help you.” + </p> + <p> + The door opened and Tony slipped into the room. With passionate violence, + Annette threw away the encircling arms. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she cried, a sob catching her voice. “You—you shame me. No—I + shame myself.” Rigid, with head flung back, she stood before him, her eyes + ablaze with passionate anger, her hands clenched tight. She had flung + herself at him and had been rejected. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil is this?” cried Tony, striding toward them. “What is he + doing to you, Annette?” + </p> + <p> + “He?” cried Annette, her breath coming in sobs. “To me? Nothing! Keep out + of it, Tony.” She pushed him fiercely aside. “He has done nothing! No! No! + Nothing but what is good and kind. Ah! kind. Yes, kind.” Her voice rose + shrill in scorn of herself and of him. “Oh, yes, he is kind.” She laughed + wildly, then broke into passionate tears. She turned from them and fled to + her room, leaving the two men looking at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Poor child,” said Jack, the first to recover speech. “She is quite all + in. She has had two hard weeks of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Two hard weeks,” repeated Tony, his eyes glaring. “What is the matter + with my sister? What have you done to her?” His voice was like the growl + of a savage dog. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be a confounded fool, Tony,” replied Jack. “You ought to know what + is the matter with your sister. You have had something to do with it. And + now your job is to see if you can make it up to her. To-morrow morning, at + seven o'clock, remember,” he said curtly, and, turning on his heel, he + passed out. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to Jack as he drove home that life had suddenly become a tangle + of perplexities and complications. First there was Annette. He was + genuinely distressed as he thought of the scene through which they had + just passed. That he himself had anything to do with her state of mind did + not occur to him. + </p> + <p> + “Poor little girl,” he said to himself, “she really needs a change of some + sort, a complete rest. We must find some way of helping her. She will be + all right in a day or two.” With which he dismissed the subject. + </p> + <p> + Then there was McNish. McNish was a sore puzzle to him. He had come to + regard the Scotchman with a feeling of sincere friendliness. He remembered + gratefully his ready and efficient help against the attacks of the radical + element among his fellow workmen. On several occasions he, with the + Reverend Murdo Matheson, had foregathered in the McNish home to discuss + economic problems over a quiet pipe. He was always conscious of a reserve + deepening at times to a sullenness in McNish's manner, the cause of which + he could not certainly discover. That McNish was possessed of a mentality + of more than ordinary power there was no manner of doubt. Jack had often + listened with amazement to his argumentation with the Reverend Murdo, + against whom he proved over and over again his ability to hold his own, + the minister's superiority as a trained logician being more than + counterbalanced by his antagonist's practical experience. + </p> + <p> + As he thought of these evenings, he was ready to believe that his + suspicion of the Scotchman's ill-will toward himself was due largely to + imagination, and yet he could not rid himself of the unpleasant memory of + McNish's convulsed face that afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce is the matter with the beggar, anyway?” he said to + himself. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a new suggestion came to him. + </p> + <p> + “It can't be,” he added, “surely the idiot is not jealous.” Then he + remembered Annette's attitude at the moment, her hands pressing his hard + to her breast, her face lifted up in something more than appeal. “By Jove! + I believe that may be it,” he mused. “And Annette? Had she observed it? + What was in her heart? Was there a reason for the Scotchman's jealousy on + that side?” + </p> + <p> + This thought disturbed him greatly. He was not possessed of a larger + measure of self-conceit than falls to the lot of the average young man, + but the thought that possibly Annette had come to regard him other than as + a friend released a new tide of emotion within him. Rapidly he passed in + review many incidents in their association during the months since he + returned from the war, and gradually the conviction forced itself upon him + that possibly McNish was not without some cause for jealousy. It was + rotten luck and was bound to interfere with their present happy relations. + Yet none the less was he conscious that it was not altogether an + unpleasant thought to him that in some subtle way a new bond had been + established between this charming young girl and himself. + </p> + <p> + But he must straighten things out with McNish at the very first + opportunity. He was a decent chap and would make Annette a first-rate + husband. Indeed, it pleased Jack not a little to feel that he would be + able to further the fortunes of both. McNish had good foreman timber in + him and would make a capable assistant. As to this silly prejudice of his, + Jack resolved that he would take steps immediately to have that removed. + That he could accomplish this he had little doubt. + </p> + <p> + But the most acutely pressing of the problems that engaged his mind were + those that arose out of his new position as manager. The mere organizing + and directing of men in their work gave him little anxiety. He was sure of + himself as far as that was concerned. He was sure of his ability to + introduce among the men a system of team play that would result in + increased production and would induce altogether better results. He + thought he knew where the weak spots were. He counted greatly upon the + support of the men who had been associated with him in the Maitland Mills + Athletic Association. With their backing, he was certain that he could + eliminate most of that very considerable wastage in time that even a + cursory observation had revealed to him in the shops, due to such causes + as dilatory workers, idle machines, lack of co-ordination, improper + routing of work, and the like. He had the suspicion that a little + investigation would reveal other causes of wastage as well. + </p> + <p> + There was one feature in the situation that gave him concern and that was + the radical element in the unions. Simmons and his gang had from the very + first assumed an attitude of hostility to himself, had sought to undermine + his influence and had fought his plans for the promotion of clean sport + among the Mill men. None knew better than Simmons that an active interest + in clean and vigorous outdoor sports tended to produce contentment of + mind, and a contented body of men offered unfertile soil for radical and + socialistic doctrines. Hence, Simmons had from the first openly and + vociferously opposed with contemptuous and bitter indignation all Jack's + schemes and plans for the promotion of athletic sports. But Jack had been + able to carry the men with him and the recent splendid victory over a + famous team had done much to discredit brother Simmons and his propaganda. + </p> + <p> + Already Jack was planning a new schedule of games for the summer. + Baseball, football, cricket, would give occupation and interest to all + classes of Mill workers. And in his new position he felt he might be able, + to an even greater degree, to carry out the plans which he had in mind. On + the other hand, he knew full well that men were apt to be suspicious of + welfare schemes “promoted from above.” His own hockey men he felt sure he + could carry with him. If he could only win McNish to be his + sergeant-major, success would be assured. This must be his first care. + </p> + <p> + He well knew that McNish had no love for Simmons, whom the Scotchman + despised first, because he was no craftsman, and chiefly because he had no + soundly-based system of economics but was governed by the sheerest + opportunism in all his activities. A combination between McNish and + Simmons might create a situation not easy to deal with. Jack resolved that + that combination should be prevented. He would see McNish at once, after + the meeting of his local, which he remembered was set for that very night. + </p> + <p> + This matter being settled, he determined to proceed immediately to the + office for an interview with Wickes. He must get to know as speedily as + possible something of the shop organization and of its effect upon + production. He found Mr. Wickes awaiting him with tremulous and exultant + delight, eager to put himself, his experience, his knowledge and all that + he possessed at the disposal of the new manager. The whole afternoon was + given to this work, and before the day was done, Jack had in his mind a + complete picture of the planing mill, with every machine in place and an + estimate, more or less exact, of the capacity of every machine. In the + course of this investigation, he was surprised to discover that there was + no detailed record of the actual production of each machine, nor, indeed, + anything in the way of an accurate cost system in any department of the + whole business. + </p> + <p> + “How do you keep track of your men and their work, Wickes?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the old man, “the foremen know all about that, Mr. Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can they know? What check have they?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they are always about, Mr. Jack, and keep their eyes on things + generally.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said Jack. “And do you find that works quite satisfactorily?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, we have never gone into details, you know, Mr. Jack, but if + you wish—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, Wickes, I am just trying to get the hang of things, you know.” + Jack was unwilling to even suggest a criticism of method at so early a + stage in his managerial career. “I want to know how you run things, + Wickes, and at any time I shall be glad of assistance from you.” + </p> + <p> + The old bookkeeper hastened to give him almost tearful assurance of his + desire to assist to the utmost of his power. + </p> + <p> + The meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union was largely attended, a + special whip having been sent out asking for a full meeting on the ground + that a matter of vital importance to unionised labour was to be + considered. + </p> + <p> + The matter of importance turned out to be nothing less than a proposition + that the Woodworkers' Union should join with all other unions in the town + to make a united demand upon their respective employers for an increase in + wages and better conditions all around, in connection with their various + industries. The question was brought up in the form of a resolution from + their executive, which strongly urged that this demand should be approved + and that a joint committee should be appointed to take steps for the + enforcement of the demand. The executive had matters thoroughly in hand. + Brother Simmons and the more radical element were kept to the background, + the speakers chosen to present the case being all moderates. There was no + suggestion of extreme measures. Their demands were reasonable, and it was + believed that the employers were prepared to give fair consideration—indeed, + members had had assurance from an authoritative quarter on the other side + that such was the case. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding the moderate tone adopted in presenting it, the resolution + met with strenuous opposition. The great majority of those present were + quiet, steady-going men who wanted chiefly to be let alone at their work + and who were hostile to the suggested action, which might finally land + them in “trouble.” The old-time workers in the Maitland Mills had no + grievances against their employer. They, of course, would gladly accept an + increase in wages, for the cost of living was steadily climbing, but they + disliked intensely the proposed method of making a general demand for an + increase in wages and for better conditions. + </p> + <p> + The sporting element in the meeting were frankly and fiercely antagonistic + to anything that would disturb the present friendly relation with their + employers in the Maitland Mills. “The old man” had always done the square + thing. He had shown himself a “regular fellow” in backing them up in all + their games during the past year. He had always given them a fair hearing + and a square deal. They would not stand for any hold-up game of this sort. + It was a low-down game, anyway. + </p> + <p> + The promoters of the resolution began to be anxious for their cause. They + had not anticipated any such a strong opposition and were rather + nonplussed as to the next move. Brother Simmons was in a fury and was on + the point of breaking forth into a passionate denunciation of scabs and + traitors generally when, to the amazement of all and the intense delight + of the supporters of the administration, McNish arose and gave unqualified + support to the resolution. + </p> + <p> + His speech was a masterpiece of diplomacy, and revealed his long practice + in the art of oratory in that best of all training schools, the labour + union of the Old Land. He began by expressing entire sympathy with the + spirit of the opposition. The opposition, however, had completely + misunderstood the intent and purport of the resolution. None of them + desired trouble. There need not be, indeed, he hoped there would not be + trouble, but there were certain very ugly facts that must be faced. He + then, in terse, forceful language, presented the facts in connection with + the cost of living, quoting statistics from the Department of Labour to + show the steady rise in the price of articles of food, fuel and clothing + since the beginning of the war, a truly appalling array. He had secured + price lists from dealers in these commodities, both wholesale and retail, + to show the enormous profits made during the war. There were returned + soldiers present. They had not hesitated at the call of duty to give all + they had for their country. They had been promised great things when they + had left their homes, their families, their business and their jobs. How + had they found things upon their return? He illustrated his argument from + the cases of men present. It was a sore spot with many of them and he + pressed hard upon it. They were suffering to-day; worse, their wives and + children were suffering. Had anyone heard of their employers suffering? + Here again he offered illustrations of men who had made a good thing out + of the war. True, there were many examples of the other kind of employer, + but they must deal with classes and not individuals in a case like this. + This was part of a much bigger thing than any mere local issue. He drew + upon his experience in the homeland with overwhelming effect. His voice + rose and rolled in his richest Doric as he passionately denounced the + tyranny of the masters in the coal and iron industries in the homeland. He + was not an extremist; he had never been one. Indeed, all who knew him + would bear him out when he said that he had been an opponent of Brother + Simmons and those who thought with him on economic questions. This sudden + change in attitude would doubtless surprise his brothers. He had been + forced to change by the stern logic of facts. There was nothing in this + resolution which any reasonable worker might object to. There was nothing + in the resolution that every worker with any sympathy with his fellow + workers should not support. Moreover, he warned them that if they + presented a united front, there would be little fear of trouble. If they + were divided in their ranks, or if they were halfhearted in their demands, + they would invite opposition and, therefore, trouble. He asked them all to + stand together in supporting a reasonable demand, which he felt sure + reasonable men would consider favorably. + </p> + <p> + The effect of his speech was overwhelming. The administration supporters + were exuberant in their enthusiastic applause and in their vociferous + demands for a vote. The opposition were paralysed by the desertion of one + whom they had regarded and trusted as a leader against the radical element + and were left without answer to the masterly array of facts and arguments + which he had presented. + </p> + <p> + At this point, the door opened and Maitland walked in. A few moments of + tense silence, and then something seemed to snap. The opposition, led by + the hockey men and their supporters, burst into a demonstration of + welcome. The violence of the demonstration was not solely upon Maitland's + account. The leaders of the opposition were quick to realise that his + entrance had created a diversion for them which might save them from + disastrous defeat. They made the most of this opportunity, prolonging the + demonstration and joining in a “chair procession” which carried Maitland + shoulder-high about the room, in the teeth of the violent protest of + Brother Simmons and his following. + </p> + <p> + Order being restored, business was again resumed, when Brother Macnamara + rose to his feet and, in a speech incoherent at times, but always + forceful, proposed that the usual order be suspended and that here and now + a motion be carried expressing their gratification at the recent great + hockey victory and referring in highly laudatory terms to the splendid + work of Brother Captain Maitland, to whose splendid efforts victory was + largely due. + </p> + <p> + It was in vain that Brother Simmons and those of his way of thinking + sought to stem the tide of disorder. The motion was carried with acclaim. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had this matter been disposed of than Maitland rose to his feet + and said: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. President, I wish to thank you all for this very kind reference to my + team and myself. I take very little credit for the victory which we won. + We had a good team, indeed, quite a remarkable team. I have played in a + good many athletic teams of various kinds, but in two particulars the + Maitland Mills Hockey Team is the most remarkable of any I have known—first, + in their splendid loyalty in taking their training and sticking together; + that was beyond all praise; and, secondly, in the splendid grit which they + showed in playing a losing game. Now, Mr. President, I am going to do + something which gives me more regret than any of you can understand. I + have to offer my resignation as a member of this union. I have accepted + the position of manager of the planing mill and I understand that this + makes it necessary that I resign as a member of this union. I don't really + see why this should be necessary. I don't believe myself that it should, + and, brothers, I expect to live long enough to belong to a union that will + allow a fellow like me to be a member with chaps like you. But meantime, + for the present I must resign. You have treated me like a brother and a + chum. I have learned a lot from you all, but one thing especially, which I + shall never forget: that there is no real difference in men that is due to + their position in life; that a man's job doesn't change his heart.” + </p> + <p> + He paused for a few moments as if to gather command of his voice, which + had become suddenly husky. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to leave you, boys, and I want to say to you from my heart + that though I cannot remain a member of this union, I can be and I will be + a brother to you all the same. And I promise you that, as far as I can, I + will work for the good of the union in the future as I have done in the + past.” + </p> + <p> + McNish alone was prepared for this dramatic announcement, although they + all knew that Maitland sooner or later would assume a position which would + link him up with the management of the business. But the suddenness of the + change and the dramatic setting of the announcement created an impression + so profound as to neutralise completely the effect of McNish's masterly + speech. + </p> + <p> + Disappointed and enraged at the sudden turn of events, he was too good a + general to allow himself to be routed in disorder. He set about to gather + his disordered forces for a fresh attack, when once more the hockey men + took command of the field. This time it was Snoopy Sykes, the most + voiceless member of the union. + </p> + <p> + After a few moments of dazed silence that followed Maitland's announcement + of his resignation, Snoopy rose and, encouraged by the cheers of his + astonished comrades, began the maiden speech of his life. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. President,” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Go to it, Snoopy, old boy.” + </p> + <p> + “I never made a speech in my life, never—” + </p> + <p> + “Good, old scout, never begin younger! Cheerio, old son!” + </p> + <p> + “And I want to say that he don't need to. I once heard of a feller who + didn't. He kept on and he didn't do no harm to nobody. And the Captain + here wouldn't neither. So what I say is he don't need to,” and Snoopy sat + down with the whole brotherhood gazing at him in silence and amazed + perplexity, not one of them being able to attach the faintest meaning to + Snoopy's amazing oration. + </p> + <p> + At length Fatty Findlay, another of the voiceless ones, but the very + special pal of Snoopy Sykes, broke forth in a puzzled voice: + </p> + <p> + “Say it again, Snoopy.” + </p> + <p> + There was a roar of laughter, which only grew in volume as Snoopy turned + toward his brothers a wrathful and bewildered countenance. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said another voice. “Say something else, Snoopy. Shoot a goal this + time.” + </p> + <p> + Again Snoopy rose. “What I said was this,” he began indignantly. Again + there was a roar of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Say, you fellers, shut up and give a feller a chance. The Captain wants + to resign. I say 'No.' He is a darned good scout. We want him and we won't + let him go. Let him keep his card.” + </p> + <p> + “By the powers,” roared Macnamara, “it is a goal, Snoopy. It's a + humdinger. I second the motion.” + </p> + <p> + It was utterly in vain that Brother Simmons and his whole following + pointed out unitedly and successively the utter impossibility and + absurdity of the proposal which was unconstitutional and without + precedent. The hockey team had the company with them and with the bit in + their teeth swept all before them. + </p> + <p> + At this point, McNish displayed the master-hand that comes from long + experience. He saw his opportunity and seized it. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. President,” he said, and at once he received the most complete + attention. “A confess this is a most extraordinary proposal, but A'm goin' + tae support it.” The roar that answered told him that he had regained + control of the meeting. “Brother Simmons says it is unconstitutional and + without precedent. He is no correct in this. A have known baith maisters + and managers who retained their union cards. A grant ye it is unusual, but + may I point oot that the circumstances are unusual?”—Wild yells of + approval—“And Captain Maitland is an unusual man”—louder yells + of approval—“It may that there is something in the constitution o' + this union that stands in the way—Cries of “No! No!” and consignment + of the constitution to a nameless locality.—“A venture to suggest + that a committee be appointed, consisting of Brothers Sykes, Macnamara and + the chairman, wi' poors tae add, tae go into this maitter with Captain + Maitland and report.” + </p> + <p> + It was a master-stroke. A true union man regards with veneration the + constitution and hesitates to tamper with it except in a perfectly + constitutional manner. The opposition to the administration's original + resolution had gained what they sought, a temporary stay. The committee + was appointed and the danger to both the resolution and the constitution + for the present averted. + </p> + <p> + Again Mr. McNish took command. “And noo, Mr. President,” he said, “the oor + is late. We are all tired and we all wish to give mair thocht to the main + maitter before us. A move, therefore, that we adjourn to the call o' the + Executive.” + </p> + <p> + Once more Brother Simmons found himself in a protesting minority, and the + meeting broke up, the opposition jubilant over their victory, the + supporters of the administration determined to await a more convenient + time. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + LIGHT THAT IS DARKNESS + </h3> + <p> + At the next monthly meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union, the + executive had little difficulty in finally shelving the report of its + committee appointed to deal with the resignation of Captain Maitland, and + as little difficulty in passing by unanimous vote their resolution held up + at the last meeting. The allied unions had meantime been extended to + include the building trades. Their organization had been perfected and + their discipline immensely strengthened. Many causes contributed to this + result. A month's time had elapsed and the high emotional tides due to + athletic enthusiasm, especially the hockey victory, had had space to + subside. The dead season for all outdoor games was upon them and the men, + losing touch with each other and with their captain, who was engrossed in + studying his new duties, began to spend their leisure hours in loafing + about the streets or lounging in the pool rooms. + </p> + <p> + All over the country the groundswell of unrest was steadily and rapidly + rising. The returned soldiers who had failed to readjust themselves to the + changed conditions of life and to the changes wrought in themselves by the + war, embittered, disillusioned and disappointed, fell an easy prey to + unscrupulous leaders and were being exploited in the interests of all + sorts of fads and foolish movements. Their government bonuses were long + since spent and many of them, through no fault of their own, found + themselves facing a situation full of difficulty, hardship, and often of + humiliation. + </p> + <p> + Under the influence of financial inflation and deceived by the abundant + flow of currency in every department of business, industries by the score + started up all over the land. Few could foresee the approach of dark and + stern days. It was in vain that financial leaders began to sound a note of + warning, calling for retrenchment and thrift. And now the inevitable + results were beginning to appear. The great steel and coal industries + began to curtail their operations, while desperately striving to maintain + war prices for their products. Other industries followed their example. + All the time the cost of living continued to mount. Foodstuffs reached + unheard-of prices, which, under the manipulations of unscrupulous dealers, + continued to climb. + </p> + <p> + Small wonder that working men with high wages and plenty of money in their + hands cherished exaggerated ideas of their wealth and developed + extravagant tastes in dress, amusements and in standard of living. With + the rest of the world, they failed to recognise the fact that money was a + mere counter in wealth and not wealth itself. To a large extent, thrift + was abandoned and while deposits in the savings banks grew in volume, the + depositors failed to recognise the fact that the value of the dollar had + decreased fifty per cent. Already the reaction from all this had begun to + set in. Nervousness paralysed the great financial institutions. The fiat + went forth “No more money for industrial enterprises. No more advances on + wholesale stocks.” The order was issued “Retrench. Take your losses, + unload your stocks.” This men were slow to do, and while all agreed upon + the soundness of the policy, each waited for the other to begin. + </p> + <p> + Through the month of April anxiety, fear and discontent began to haunt the + minds of business men. In the labour world the High Command was quick to + sense the approach of a crisis and began to make preparations for the + coming storm. The whole industrial and commercial world gradually + crystallised into its two opposing classes. A subsidised press began + earnestly to demand lower cost in productions retrenchment in expenditure, + a cut in labour costs, a general and united effort to meet the inevitable + burden of deflation. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, an inspired press began to raise an outcry against the + increasing cost of living, to point out the effect of the house famine + upon the income of the working man, and to sound a warning as to the + danger and folly of any sudden reduction in the wage scale. + </p> + <p> + Increased activity in the ranks of organised labour began to be apparent. + Everywhere the wild and radical element was gaining in influence and in + numbers, and the spirit of faction and internecine strife became rampant. + </p> + <p> + It was due to the dominating forcefulness of McNish, the leader of the + moderates, that the two factions in the allied unions had been + consolidated, and a single policy agreed upon. His whole past had been a + preparation for just a crisis as the present. His wide reading, his shrewd + practical judgment, his large experience in labour movements in the Old + Land, gave him a position of commanding influence which enabled him to + dominate the executives and direct their activities. His sudden and + unexplained acceptance of the more radical program won for him an + enthusiastic following of the element which had hitherto recognised the + leadership of Brother Simmons. Day and night, with a zeal that never + tired, he laboured at the work of organising and disciplining the various + factions and parties in the ranks of labour into a single compact body of + fighting men under a single command. McNish was in the grip of one of the + mightiest of human passions. Since that day in the Perrotte home, when he + had seen the girl that he loved practically offer herself, as he thought, + to another man, he had resolutely kept himself away from her. He had done + with her forever and he had torn out of his heart the genuine friendship + which he had begun to hold toward the man who had deprived him of her + love. But deep in his heart he nourished a passion for vengeance that + became an obsession, a madness with him. He merely waited the opportunity + to gratify his passion. + </p> + <p> + He learned that the Maitland Mills were in deep water, financially. His + keen economic instinct and his deep study of economic movements told him + that a serious financial crisis, continent-wide, was inevitable and + imminent. It only needed a successful labour war to give the final touch + that would bring the whole industrial fabric tumbling into ruin. The + desire for immediate revenge upon the man toward whom he had come to + cherish an implacable hatred would not suffer him to await the onset of a + nation-wide industrial crisis. He fancied that he saw the opportunity for + striking an immediate blow here in Blackwater. + </p> + <p> + He steadily thwarted Maitland's attempts to get into touch with him, + whether at the works or in his own home, where Maitland had become a + frequent visitor. He was able only partially to allay his mother's anxiety + and her suspicion that all was not well with him. That shrewd old lady + knew her son well enough to suspect that some untoward circumstance had + befallen him, but she knew also that she could do no more than bide her + time. + </p> + <p> + With the workers of the Maitland Mills circumstances favoured the plans of + McNish and the Executive of the allied unions. The new manager was + beginning to make his hand felt upon the wheel. Checks upon wastage in + labour time and in machine time were being instituted; everywhere there + was a tightening up of loose screws and a knitting up of loose ends, with + the inevitable consequent irritation. This was especially true in the case + of Tony Perrotte, to whom discipline was ever an external force and never + an inward compulsion. Inexact in everything he did, irregular in his + habits, irresponsible in his undertakings, he met at every turn the + pressure of the firm, resolute hand of the new manager. Deep down in his + heart there was an abiding admiration and affection for Jack Maitland, but + he loathed discipline and kicked against it. + </p> + <p> + The first of May is ever a day of uncertainty and unrest in the world of + labour. It is a time for readjustment, for the fixing of wage scales, for + the assertion of labour rights and the ventilating of labour wrongs. It is + a time favourable to upheaval, and is therefore awaited by all employers + of labour with considerable anxiety. + </p> + <p> + On the surface there was not a ripple to indicate that as far as the + Maitland Mills were concerned there was beneath a surging tide of unrest. + So undisturbed indeed was the surface that the inexperienced young manager + was inclined to make light of the anxieties of his father, and was + confident in his assurance that the danger of a labour crisis had, for the + present at least, been averted. + </p> + <p> + Out of the blue heaven fell the bolt. The mails on May Day morning brought + to the desk of every manager of every industry in Blackwater, and to every + building contractor, a formal document setting forth in terms courteous + but firm the demands of the executives of the allied unions of Blackwater. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it has come, boy,” was Maitland's greeting to his son, who came + into the office for the usual morning consultation. + </p> + <p> + “What?” said Jack. + </p> + <p> + “War,” replied his father, tossing him the letter and watching his face as + he read it. + </p> + <p> + Jack handed him the letter without a word. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you think of it?” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “It might be worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Worse?” roared his father. “Worse? How can it be worse?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is really a demand for an increase in wages. The others, I + believe, are mere frills. And between ourselves, sir, though I haven't + gone into it very carefully, I am not sure but that an increase in wages + is about due.” + </p> + <p> + Maitland glowered at his son in a hurt and hopeless rage. + </p> + <p> + “An increase in wages due?” he said. “After the increase of six months + ago? The thing is preposterous. The ungrateful scoundrels!” + </p> + <p> + At this point the telephone upon his desk rang. Jack took up the receiver. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Mr. McGinnis. . . . Yes, he is here. Yes. . . . At least, I + suppose so. . . . Oh, I don't know. . . . It is rather peremptory. . . . + All right, sir, I shall tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me talk to him,” said his father, impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind just now, Dad,” said Jack, with his hand over the receiver. + Then through the telephone he said: “All right, sir; he will await you + here. Good morning.” + </p> + <p> + “. . . The old boy is wild,” said Jack with a slight laugh. “The wires are + quite hot.” + </p> + <p> + “This is no joke, Jack, I can tell you. McGinnis is coming over, is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Jack, “but we won't get much help from him.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” inquired his father. “He is a very shrewd and able business + man.” + </p> + <p> + “He may be all that, sir, but in a case like this, if you really want my + opinion, and I have no wish to be disrespectful, he is a hot-headed ass. + Just the kind of employer to rejoice the heart of a clever labour leader + who is out for trouble. Dad,” and Jack's voice became very earnest, “let's + work this out by ourselves. We can handle our own men better without the + help of McGinnis or any other.” + </p> + <p> + “That is just the trouble. Look at this precious document, 'The Allied + Unions.' What have I got to do with them? And signed by Simmons and + McDonough. Who is McDonough, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “McDonough? Oh, I know McDonough. He is a little like McGinnis—big-hearted, + hot-headed, good in a scrap, useless in a conference. But I suggest, sir, + that we ignore the slight unpleasant technicalities in the manner and + method of negotiation and try to deal with our own people in a reasonable + way.” + </p> + <p> + “I am ready always to meet my own people, but I refuse utterly to deal + with this committee!” It was not often that Mr. Maitland became profane, + but in his description of this particular group of individuals his + ordinary English suffered a complete collapse. + </p> + <p> + “Dad, McGinnis will be here in a few minutes. I should like to suggest one + or two things, if you will allow me.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said his father quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Dad, this is war, and I have learned a little about that game 'over + there.' And I have learned something about it in my athletic activities. + The first essential is to decline to play the enemy's game. Let's discover + his plan of campaign. As I read this document, the thing that hits my eye + is this: do they really want the things they ask for, or is the whole + thing a blind? What I mean is, do they really want war or peace? I say + let's feel them out. If they are after peace, the thing is easy. If they + want war, this may come to be a very serious thing. Meantime, Dad, let's + not commit ourselves to McGinnis. Let's play it alone.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maitland's lips had set in a thin, hard line. His face was like a mask + of grey steel. He sat thinking silently. + </p> + <p> + “Here he comes,” said Jack, looking out of the window. “Dad, you asked me + to come into this with you. Let's play the game together. I found it wise + to place the weight on the defence line. Will you play defence in this?” + </p> + <p> + The lines in his father's face began to relax. + </p> + <p> + “All right, boy, we'll play it together, and meantime I shall play + defence.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, Dad,” cried Jack, in a tone of exultant confidence, “we'll beat + 'em. And now here comes that old Irish fire-eater. I'll go. No alliance, + Dad, remember.” His father nodded as Jack left the room, to return almost + immediately with Mr. McGinnis, evidently quite incoherent with rage. + </p> + <p> + In the outer office Jack paused beside the desk of the old bookkeeper. + From behind the closed door came the sound of high explosives. + </p> + <p> + “Rough stuff in there, eh, Wickes,” said Jack, with a humorous smile. For + some moments he stood listening. “War is a terrible thing,” he added with + a grin. + </p> + <p> + “What seems to be the matter, Mr. Jack?” + </p> + <p> + Jack laid before him the document sent out by the Allied Unions. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, this is terrible, Mr. Jack! And just at this time. I am very much + afraid it will ruin us.” + </p> + <p> + “Ruin us? Rot. Don't ever say that word again. We will possibly have a + jolly good row. Someone will be hurt and perhaps all of us, more or less, + but I don't mean to be beaten, if I know myself,” he added, with the smile + on his face that his hockey team loved to see before a match. “Now, + Wickes,” continued Jack, “get that idea of failure out of your mind. We + are going to win. And meantime, let us prepare for our campaign. Here's a + bit of work I want you to do for me. Get four things for me: the wages for + the last three years—you have the sheets?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “—The cost of living from the Labour Gazette for the last three + years—you have them here—and the rates of increase in wages. + Plot a diagram showing all these things. You know what I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “And find out the wages paid at our competing points.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mr. Jack. I know what you want. I can give you the necessary + information in regard to the first three points almost at once. It will + take some days, however, to get the wages of our competing points.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, old boy. Carry on!” said Jack, and with the same smile on his + face he passed out of the office into the shops. + </p> + <p> + It amused him slightly to observe the change in the attitude and bearing + of his men. They would not look at him fairly in the face. Even Snoopy + Sykes and Macnamara avoided his glance. But he had for everyone his usual + cheery word. Why should he not? These chaps had no hatred for him, nor he + for them. He had come to understand union methods of discipline and + recognised fully the demands for loyalty and obedience imposed upon its + members by the organisation. These men of his were bound to the union by + solemn obligations. He bore them no ill-will on that score. Rather he + respected them the more for it. If a fight was inevitable, he would do his + best to beat them but he would allow no spirit of hatred to change his + mind toward them nor cloud his judgment. + </p> + <p> + The day was full of excursions and alarms. A hurry call was sent out by + McGinnis to all employers who had received copies of the document from the + Allied Unions. In the afternoon a meeting was held in the Board of Trade + Building, but it was given over chiefly to vituperation and threatening + directed toward their variously described employees. With one heart and + voice all affirmed with solemn, and in many cases with profane oaths that + they would not yield a jot to the insolent demands of this newly organised + body. + </p> + <p> + “I have already sent my answer,” shouted Mr. McGinnis. + </p> + <p> + “What did you say, Mac?” + </p> + <p> + “Told 'em to go to hell, and told 'em that if any of these highly coloured + committee men came on my premises, I would kick 'em into the middle of + next week.” + </p> + <p> + Jack, who was present at the meeting, sat listening with silent and amused + pity. They seemed to him so like a group of angry children whose game had + suddenly been interfered with and whose rage rendered them incapable of + coherent thought. + </p> + <p> + Grant Maitland, who, throughout the meeting had sat silent, finally rose + and said: “Gentlemen, the mere expression of feeling may afford a sort of + satisfaction but the question is, What is to be done? That the situation + is grave for all of us we know too well. Not many of us are in a position + to be indifferent to a strike. Let us get down to business. What shall we + do?” + </p> + <p> + “Fight them to a finish! Smash the unions!” were the suggestions in + various forms and with various descriptive adjectives. + </p> + <p> + “It may come to a fight, gentlemen, but however gratifying a fight may be + to our feelings, a fight may be disastrous to our business. A strike may + last for weeks, perhaps months. Are we in a position to stand that? And as + for smashing the unions, let us once and for all put such a thought out of + our minds. These unions have all international affiliations. It is absurd + to imagine that we here in Blackwater could smash a single union.” + </p> + <p> + Fiercely McGinnis made reply. “I want to tell you right here and now that + I am prepared to close down and go out of business but I will have no + outside committee tell me how to run my job.” + </p> + <p> + But no one took this threat seriously, and no one but knew that a + shut-down for any of them might mean disaster. They all recalled those + unfilled orders which they were straining every nerve to complete before + the market should break, or cancellation should come. It added not a + little to their rage that they knew themselves to be held in the grip of + circumstances over which they had little control. + </p> + <p> + After much angry deliberation it was finally agreed that they should + appoint a committee to consider the whole situation and to prepare a plan + of action. Meantime the committee were instructed to temporise with the + enemy. + </p> + <p> + The evening papers announced the imminence of a strike the extent and + magnitude of which had never been experienced in the history of + Blackwater. Everywhere the citizens of the industrial town were discussing + the disturbing news anxiously, angrily, indifferently, according as they + were variously affected. But there was a general agreement among all + classes of citizens that a strike in the present industrial and financial + situation which was already serious enough, would be nothing short of a + calamity, because no matter what the issue would be, no matter which of + the parties won in the conflict, a fight meant serious loss not only to + the two parties immediately concerned, but to the whole community as well. + With the rank and file of the working people there was little heart for a + fight. More especially, men upon whom lay the responsibility for the + support of homes shrank from the pain and the suffering, as well as from + the loss which experience taught them a strike must entail. It is safe to + say that in every working man's home in Blackwater that night there was to + be found a woman who, as she put her children to bed, prayed that trouble + might be averted, for she knew that in every war it is upon the women and + children that in the last analysis the sorest burden must fall. To them + even victory would mean for many months a loss of luxuries for the family, + it might be of comforts; and defeat, which would come not until after long + conflict, would mean not only straitened means but actual poverty, with + all the attendant humiliation and bitterness which would kill for them the + joy of life and sensibly add to its already heavy burden. + </p> + <p> + That night Jack Maitland felt that a chat with the Reverend Murdo Matheson + might help to clear his own mind as to the demands of the Allied Unions. + He found the minister in his study and in great distress of soul. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you, Maitland,” he said, giving him a hearty greeting. + “My hope is largely placed in you and you must not fail me in this crisis. + What exactly are the demands of the unions?” + </p> + <p> + Maitland spread before him the letter which his father had received that + morning. The Reverend Murdo read it carefully over, then, with a sigh of + relief, he said: “Well, it might be worse. There should not be much + difficulty in coming to an agreement between people anxious for peace.” + </p> + <p> + After an hour spent in canvassing the subject from various points of view, + the Reverend Murdo exclaimed: “Let us go and see McNish.” + </p> + <p> + “The very thing,” said Maitland. “I have been trying to get in touch with + him for the last month or so, but he avoids me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” replied the Reverend Murdo, “he has a reason, no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + To Maitland's joy they found McNish at home. They were received with + none-too-cordial a welcome by the son, with kindly, even eager greeting by + the mother. + </p> + <p> + “Come awa in, Minister; come awa, Mr. Maitland. You have come to talk + about the 'trouble,' a doot. Malcolm does-na want to talk about it to me, + a bad sign. He declines to converse even, wi' me, Mr. Matheson. Perhaps ye + may succeed better wi' him.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Matheson can see for himself,” said her son, using his most correct + English, “the impropriety of my talking with an employer in this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, McNish,” said the minister briskly. “You know me quite well and + we both know Maitland. It is just sheer nonsense to say that you cannot + talk with us. Everyone in town is talking. Every man in your union is + talking, trying to justify their present position, which, I am bound to + say, takes some justifying.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked McNish hotly. + </p> + <p> + “Because the demands are some of them quite unsound. Some other than you + had a hand in drawing up your Petition of Right, McNish, and some of the + demands are impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you—” began McNish indignantly, but the minister held up his + hand and continued: + </p> + <p> + “And some of them are both sound and reasonable.” + </p> + <p> + “What's wrang with the demands?” said McNish. + </p> + <p> + “That's what I am about to show you,” said the minister with grave + confidence. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, minister,” said the mother with a chuckle of delight. “That's you! + That's you! Haud at him! Haud at him! That's you!” + </p> + <p> + They took seats about the blazing fire for the evening was still shrewd + enough to make the fire welcome. + </p> + <p> + “Noo, Mr. Matheson,” said the old lady, leaning toward him with keen + relish in her face, “read me the union demands. Malcolm wadna read nor + talk nor anything but glower.” + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Murdo read the six clauses. + </p> + <p> + “Um! They're no bad negotiating pints.” + </p> + <p> + “Negotiatin' pints!” exclaimed her son indignantly. “Noo, mither, ye maun + play the game. A'm no gaun tae argue with ye to-night. Nor wi' any of ye,” + he added. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Malcolm. You can't object to talk over these points with us. + You must talk them over before you're done with them. And you'll talk them + over before the whole town, too.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, 'before the whole town'?” said Malcolm. + </p> + <p> + “This is a community question. This community is interested and greatly + interested. It will demand a full exposition of the attitude of the + unions.” + </p> + <p> + “The community!” snorted McNish in contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, the community,” replied the minister, “and you are not to snort at + it. That's the trouble with you labour folk. You think you are the whole + thing. You forget the third and most important party in any industrial + strife, the community. The community is interested first, in justice being + done to its citizens—to all its citizens, mind you; second, in the + preservation of the services necessary to its comfort and well-being; + third, in the continuance of the means of livelihood to wage earners.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye missed one,” said McNish grimly. “The conserving of the profits of + labour for the benefit of the capitalist.” + </p> + <p> + “I might have put that in, too,” said the minister, “but it is included in + my first. But I should have added another which, to my mind, is of the + very first importance, the preservation of the spirit of brotherly feeling + and Christian decency as between man and man in this community.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, ye might,” replied Malcolm in bitter irony, “and ye might begin with + the ministers and the churches.” + </p> + <p> + “Whisht, laddie,” said his mother sharply, “Mind yer manners.” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't mean me specially, Mrs. McNish, but I will not say but what he + is right.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied McNish, “I don't mean you exactly, Mr. Matheson.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't take it back, McNish,” said the minister. “I need it. We all need + it in the churches, and we will take it, too. But come now, let us look at + these clauses. You are surely not standing for them all, or for them all + alike?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not, then?” said McNish, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you,” replied the minister, “and won't take long, either.” He + proceeded to read over carefully the various clauses in the demands of the + allied unions, emphasizing and explaining the meaning of each clause. + “First, as to wages. This is purely a matter for adjustment to the cost of + living and general industrial conditions. It is a matter of arithmetic and + common sense. There is no principle involved.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't agree with you,” said McNish. “There is more than the cost of + living to be considered. There is the question of the standard of living. + Why should it be considered right that the standard of living for the + working man should be lower than that for the professional man or the + capitalist?” + </p> + <p> + “There you are again, McNish,” said the minister. “You are not up to your + usual to-night. You know quite well that every working man in my parish + lives better than I do, and spends more money on his living. The standard + of living has no special significance with the working man to-day as + distinguished from the professional man. We are not speaking of the + wasteful and idle rich. So I repeat that here it is a matter of adjustment + and that there is no principle involved. Now, as regard to hours. You ask + an eight-hour day and a Saturday half-holiday. That, too, is a matter of + adjustment.” + </p> + <p> + “What about production, Mr. Matheson?” said Maitland. “And overhead? + Production costs are abnormally high to-day and so are carrying charges. I + am not saying that a ten-hour day is not too long. Personally, I believe + that a man cannot keep at his best for ten hours in certain industries—not + in all.” + </p> + <p> + “Long hours do not mean big production, Maitland. Not long hours but + intensive and co-ordinated work bring up production and lower production + costs.” + </p> + <p> + “What about idle machines and overhead?” inquired Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “A very important consideration,” said the minister. “The only sound rule + governing factory industry especially is this: the longest possible + machine time, the shortest possible man time. But here again it is a + question of organisation, adjustment and co-ordination of work and + workers. We all want education here.” + </p> + <p> + “If I remember right,” said McNish, and he could not keep the bitterness + out of his voice, “I have heard you say something in the pulpit at times + in regard to the value of men's immortal souls. What care can men take of + their bodies and minds, let alone their souls, if you work them ten hours + a day?” + </p> + <p> + “There is a previous question, McNish,” said the minister. “Why give more + leisure time to men who spend their leisure hours now in pool rooms and + that sort of nonsense?” + </p> + <p> + “And whose fault is that,” replied McNish sharply. “Who is responsible + that they have not learned to use their leisure more wisely? And further, + what about your young bloods and their leisure hours?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, A doot he has ye there, minister,” said Mrs. McNish with a quiet + chuckle. + </p> + <p> + “He has,” said the minister. “The point is well taken and I acknowledge it + freely. My position is that the men need more leisure, but, more than + that, they need instruction as to how to use their leisure time wisely. + But let us get on to the third point. 'A Joint Committee of References + demanded to which all complaints shall be referred.' Now, that's fine. + That's the Whitley plan. It is quite sound and has proved thoroughly + useful in practice.” + </p> + <p> + “I quite agree,” said Maitland frankly. “But certain conditions must be + observed.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, of course,” replied the minister. “Conditions must be observed + everywhere. Now, the fourth point: 'The foreman must be a member of the + union.' Thoroughly unsound. They can't ride two horses at once. + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure of that,” said Maitland. “For my part, I should like to + have retained my membership in the union. The more that both parties meet + for conference, the better. And the more connecting links between them, + the better. I should like to see a union where employers and employees + should have equal rights of membership.” + </p> + <p> + McNish grunted contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “It would be an interesting experiment,” said the minister. “An + interesting experiment, McNish, and you are not to grunt like that. The + human element, of course, is the crux here. If we had the right sort of + foreman he might be trusted to be a member of the union, but a man cannot + direct and be directed at the same time. But that union of yours, + Maitland, with both parties represented in it, is a big idea. It is worth + considering. What do you think about it, McNish?” + </p> + <p> + “What do I think of it? It is sheer idealistic nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a noble idea, laddie, and no to be sneered at, but A doot it needs + a better world for it than we hae at the present.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid that is true,” said the minister. “But meantime a foreman is + a man who gives orders and directs work, and, generally speaking, he must + remain with a directorate in any business. There may be exceptions. You + must acknowledge that, McNish.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll acknowledge nothing of the sort,” replied McNish, and entered into a + long argument which convinced no one. + </p> + <p> + “Now we come to the next, number five: 'a voice in the management,' it + means. Come now, McNish, this is rather much. Do you want Mr. Maitland's + job here, or is there anyone in your shop who would be anything but an + embarrassment trying running the Maitland Mills, and you know quite well + that the men want nothing of the sort. It may be as Mrs. McNish said, 'a + good negotiating point,' but it has no place in practical politics here in + Blackwater. How would you like, for instance, to take orders from + Simmons?” + </p> + <p> + The old lady chuckled delightedly. “He has you there, laddie, he has you + there!” + </p> + <p> + But this McNish would not acknowledge, and proceeded to argue at great + length on purely theoretical grounds for joint control of industries, till + his mother quite lost patience with him. + </p> + <p> + “Hoots, laddie, haud yer hoofs on mither earth. Would ye want yon radical + bodies to take chairge o' ony business in which ye had a baubee? Ye're + talkin' havers.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, let us look at the last,” said Mr. Matheson. “It is practically a + demand for the closed shop. Now, McNish, I ask you, man to man, what is + the use of putting that in there? It is not even a negotiating point.” + </p> + <p> + At that McNish fired up. “It is no negotiating point,” he declared. “I + stand for that. It is vital to the very existence of unionised labour. + Everyone knows that. Unionism cannot maintain itself in existence without + the closed shop. It is the ideal toward which all unionised labour works.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, McNish, tell me honestly,” said the minister, “do you expect or hope + for an absolutely closed shop in the factories here in Blackwater, or in + the Building Industries? Have you the faintest shadow of a hope?” + </p> + <p> + “We may not get it,” said McNish, “but that is no reason why we should not + fight for it. Men have died fighting for the impossible because they knew + it was right, and, by dying for it, they have brought it to pass.” + </p> + <p> + “Far be it from me, McNish, to deny that. But I am asking you now, again + as man to man, do you know of any industry, even in the Old Land, where + the closed shop absolutely prevails, and do you think that conditions in + Blackwater give you the faintest hope of a closed shop here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” shouted McNish, springing to his feet, “there is hope. There is + hope even in Blackwater.” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut, laddie,” said his mother. “Dinna deeve us. What has come ower + ye that ye canna talk like a reasonable man? Noo, Mr. Matheson, ye've had + enough of the labour matters. A'll mak ye a cup of tea.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mrs. McNish,” said the minister gravely, “but I cannot linger. + I have still work to do to-night.” He rose from his chair and found his + coat. His manner was gravely sad and gave evidence of his disappointment + with the evening's conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Dinna fash yerself, minister,” said the old lady, helping him on with his + coat. “The 'trouble' will blow ower, a doot. It'll a' come oot richt.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. McNish, what I have seen and heard in this house to-night,” said the + minister solemnly, “gives me little hope that it will all come right, but + rather gives me grave concern.” Then, looking straight into the eyes of + her son, he added: “I came here expecting to find help and guidance in + discovering a reasonable way out of a very grave and serious difficulty. I + confess I have been disappointed.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Matheson,” said McNish, “I am always glad to discuss any matter with + you in a reasonable and kindly way.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid my presence has not helped very much, Mrs. McNish,” said + Maitland. “I am sorry I came tonight. I did come earnestly desiring and + hoping that we might find a way out. It seems I have made a mistake.” + </p> + <p> + “You came at my request, Maitland,” said the minister. “If a mistake has + been made, it is mine. Good-night, Mrs. McNish. Good-night, Malcolm. I + don't pretend to know or understand what is in your heart, but I am going + to say to you as your minister that where there is evil passion there can + be no clear thinking. And further, let me say that upon you will devolve a + heavy responsibility for the guidance you give these men. Good-night + again. Remember that One whom we both acknowledge as the source of all + true light said: 'If the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is + that darkness.'” He shook hands first with the mother, then with the son, + who turned away from him with a curt “Good-night” and nodded to Maitland. + </p> + <p> + For a moment or two neither of the men spoke. They were both grievously + disappointed in the interview. + </p> + <p> + “I never saw him like that,” said the Reverend Murdo at length. “What can + be the matter with him? With him passion is darkening counsel.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Maitland, “I have found out one thing that I wanted.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that?” + </p> + <p> + “These men clearly do not want what they are asking for. They want chiefly + war—at least, McNish does.” + </p> + <p> + “I am deeply disappointed in McNish,” replied the minister, “and I confess + I am anxious. McNish, above all others, is the brains of this movement, + and in that mood there is little hope of reason from him. I fear it will + be a sore fight, with a doubtful issue.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't despair,” said Maitland cheerily. “I have an idea he has a + quarrel with me. He wants to get me. But we can beat him.” + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Murdo waited for a further explanation, but was too much of a + gentleman to press the point and kept silent till they reached his door. + </p> + <p> + “You will not desert us, Mr. Matheson,” said Maitland earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “Desert you? It is my job. These people are my people. We cannot desert + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Right you are,” said Maitland. “Cheerio. We'll carry on. He shook hands + warmly with the minister and went off, whistling cheerily. + </p> + <p> + “That is a man to follow,” said the minister to himself. “He goes + whistling into a fight.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE STRIKE + </h3> + <p> + The negotiations between the men and their employers, in which the chief + exponents of the principles of justice and fair play were Mr. McGinnis on + the one hand and Brother Simmons on the other, broke down at the second + meeting, which ended in a vigorous personal encounter between these + gentlemen, without, however, serious injury to either. + </p> + <p> + The following day a general strike was declared. All work ceased in the + factories affected and building operations which had begun in a moderate + way were arrested. Grant Maitland was heartily disgusted with the course + of events and more especially with the humiliating and disgraceful manner + in which the negotiations had been conducted. + </p> + <p> + “You were quite right, Jack,” he said to his son the morning after which + the strike had been declared. “That man McGinnis is quite impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “It really made little difference, Dad. The negotiations were hopeless + from the beginning. There was no chance of peace.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because McNish wants war.” He proceeded to give an account of the evening + spent at the McNish home. “When McNish wants peace, we can easily end the + strike,” concluded Jack. + </p> + <p> + “There is something in what you say, doubtless,” replied his father, “but + meantime there is a lot to be done.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean exactly, Father?” + </p> + <p> + “We have a lot of stock made up on hand. The market is dead at present + prices. There is no hope of sales. The market will fall lower still. I + propose that we take our loss and unload at the best rate we can get.” + </p> + <p> + “That is your job, Dad. I know little about that, but I believe you are + right. I have been doing a lot of reading in trade journals and that sort + of thing, and I believe that a big slump is surely coming. But there is a + lot to do in my department at the Mills, also. I am not satisfied with the + inside arrangement of our planing mill. There is a lot of time wasted and + there is an almost complete lack of co-ordination. Here is a plan I want + to show you. The idea is to improve the routing of our work.” + </p> + <p> + Maitland glanced at the plan perfunctorily, more to please his son than + anything else. But, after a second glance, he became deeply interested and + began to ask questions. After half an hour's study he said: + </p> + <p> + “Jack, this is really a vast improvement. Strange, I never thought of a + great many of these things.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been reading up a bit, and when I was on my trip two weeks ago I + looked in upon two or three of the plants of our competitors. I believe + this will be more up-to-date and will save time and labour.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure it will, boy. And we will put this in hand at once. But what + about men?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we can pick up labourers, and that is all we want at the present + time.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, go at it. I will give you a hand myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there is something else, Dad. We ought to have a good athletic field + for our men.” + </p> + <p> + His father gasped at him. + </p> + <p> + “An athletic field for those ungrateful rascals?” + </p> + <p> + “Father, they are not rascals,” said his son. “They are just the same + to-day as they ever were. A decent lot of chaps who don't think the same + as we do on a number of points. But they are coming back again some time + and we may as well be ready for them. Look at this.” + </p> + <p> + And before Grant Maitland could recover his speech he found himself + looking at a beautifully-drawn plan of athletic grounds set out with + walks, shade trees and shrubbery, and with a plain but commodious + club-house appearing in the background. + </p> + <p> + “And where do you get this land, and what does it cost you?” + </p> + <p> + “The land,” replied Jack, “is your land about the old mill. It will cost + us nothing, I hope. The old mill site contains two and one-half acres. It + can be put in shape with little work. The mill itself is an eyesore; ought + to have been removed long ago. Dad, you ought to have seen the plant at + Violetta, that is in Ohio, you know. It is a joy to behold. But never mind + about that. The lumber in the old mill can be used up in the club-house. + The timbers are wonderful; nothing like them to-day anywhere. The outside + finishing will be done with slabs from our own yard. They will make a very + pretty job.” + </p> + <p> + “And where do you get the men for this work?” inquired his father. + </p> + <p> + “Why, our men. It is for themselves and they are our men.” + </p> + <p> + “Voluntary work, I suppose?” inquired Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “Voluntary work?” said Jack. “We couldn't have men work for us for + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “And you mean to pay them for the construction of their own athletic + grounds and club-house?” + </p> + <p> + “But why not?” inquired Jack in amazement. + </p> + <p> + His father threw back his head and began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “This is really the most extraordinary thing I have ever heard of in all + my life,” he said, after he had done with his laugh. “Your men strike; you + prepare for them a beautiful club-house and athletic grounds as a reward + for their loyalty. You pay them wages so that they may be able to sustain + the strike indefinitely.” Again he threw back his head and continued + laughing as Jack had never in his life heard him laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Why not, Dad?” said Jack, gazing at his father in half-shamed perplexity. + “The idea of athletic grounds and club-house is according to the best + modern thought. These are our own men. You are not like McGinnis. You are + not enraged at them. You don't hate them. They are going to work for us + again in some days or weeks. They are idle and therefore available for + work. You can get better work from them than from other men. And you + wouldn't take their work from them for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Again his father began to laugh. “Your argument, Jack,” he said when he + was able to control his speech, “is absolutely unanswerable. There is no + answer possible on any count; but did ever man hear of such a scheme? Did + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I confess not. But, Dad, you are a good sport. We are out to win this + fight, but we don't want to injure anybody. We are going to beat them, but + we don't want to abuse them unnecessarily. Besides, I think it is good + business. And then, you see, I really like these chaps.” + </p> + <p> + “Simmons, for instance?” said his father with an ironical smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Simmons, just as much as you can like an ass.” + </p> + <p> + “And McNish?” inquired Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “McNish,” echoed Jack, a cloud falling upon his face. “I confess I don't + understand McNish. At least,” he added, “I am sorry for McNish. But what + do you say to my scheme, Dad?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, boy,” said his father, beginning to laugh again, “give me a night + to think it over.” + </p> + <p> + Then Jack departed, not quite sure of himself or of the plan which + appeared to give his father such intense amusement. “At any rate,” he said + to himself as he walked out of the office, “if it is a joke it is a good + one. And it has given the governor a better laugh than he has had for five + years.” + </p> + <p> + The Mayor of Blackwater was peculiarly sensitive to public opinion and + acutely susceptible of public approval. In addition, he was possessed of a + somewhat exalted idea of his powers as the administrator in public + affairs, and more particularly as a mediator in times of strife. He had + been singularly happy in his mediation between the conflicting elements in + his Council, and more than once he had been successful in the composing of + disputes in arbitration cases submitted to his judgment. Moreover, he had + an eye to a second term in the mayor's chair, which gubernatorial and + majestical office gave full scope to the ruling ambition of his life, + which was, in his own words, “to guard the interests and promote the + well-being of my people.” + </p> + <p> + The industrial strike appeared to furnish him with an opportunity to + gratify this ambition. He resolved to put an end to this unnecessary and + wasteful struggle, and to that end he summoned to a public meeting his + fellow citizens of all classes, at which he invited each party in the + industrial strife to make a statement of their case, in the hope that a + fair and reasonable settlement might be effected. + </p> + <p> + The employers were more than dubious of the issue, having but a small idea + of the mayor's power of control and less of his common-sense. Brother + Simmons, however, foreseeing a magnificent field for the display of his + forensic ability, a thing greatly desired by labour leaders of his kidney, + joyfully welcomed the proposal. McNish gave hesitating assent, but, + relying upon his experience in the management of public assemblies and + confident of his ability to shape events to his own advantage, he finally + agreed to accept the invitation. + </p> + <p> + The public meeting packed the City Hall, with representatives of both + parties in the controversy in about equal numbers and with a great body of + citizens more or less keenly interested in the issue of the meeting and + expectant of a certain amount of “fun.” The Mayor's opening speech was + thoroughly characteristic. He was impressed with the responsibility that + was his for the well-being of his people. Like all right-thinking citizens + of this fair town of Blackwater, he deeply regretted this industrial + strife. It interfered with business. It meant loss of money to the + strikers. It was an occasion of much inconvenience to the citizens and it + engendered bitterness of feeling that might take months, even years, to + remove. He stood there as the friend of the working man. He was a working + man himself and was proud of it. He believed that on the whole they were + good fellows. He was a friend also of the employers of labour. What could + we do without them? How could our great industries prosper without their + money and their brains? The one thing necessary for success was + co-operation. That was the great word in modern democracy. In glowing + periods he illustrated this point from their experiences in the war. All + they wanted to do was to sit down together, and, man to man, talk their + difficulties over. He would be glad to assist them, and he had no doubt as + to the result. He warned the working man that hard times were coming. The + spectre of unemployment was already parading their streets. Unemployment + meant disorder, rioting. This, he assured them, would not be permitted. At + all costs order would be maintained. He had no wish to threaten, but he + promised them that the peace would be preserved at all costs. He suggested + that the strikers should get back at once to work and the negotiations + should proceed in the meantime. + </p> + <p> + At this point Brother Simmons rose. + </p> + <p> + “The mayor (h)urges the workers to get back to work,” he said. “Does 'e + mean at (h)increased pay, or not? 'E says as 'ow this strike interferes + with business. 'E doesn't tell us what business. But I can tell 'im it + (h)interferes with the business of robbery of the workin' man. 'E deplores + the loss of money to the strikers. Let me tell 'im that the workin' men + are prepared to suffer that loss. True, they 'ave no big bank accounts to + carry 'em on, but there are things that they love more than money—liberty + and justice and the rights of the people. What are we strikin' for? + Nothin' but what is our own. The workin' man makes (h)everything that is + made. What percentage of the returns does 'e get in wages? They won't tell + us that. Last year these factories were busy in the makin' o' munitions. + Mr. McGinnis 'ere was makin' shells. I'd like to (h)ask, Mr. Mayor, what + profit Mr. McGinnis made out of these shells.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McGinnis sprang to his feet, “I want to tell you,” he said in a voice + choking with rage, “that it is none of your high-explosive business.” + </p> + <p> + “'E says as it is none o' my business,” cried Brother Simmons, joyously + taking Mr. McGinnis on. “Let me (h)ask 'im who paid for these shells? I + did, you did, all of us did. Not my business? Then 'ose business is it? + (H)If 'e was paid a fair price for 'is shells, (h)all right, I say nothin' + against it. If 'e was paid more than a fair price, then 'e is a robber, + worse, 'e is a blood robber, because the price was paid in blood.” + </p> + <p> + At once a dozen men were on their feet. Cries of “Order! Order!” and “Put + him out!” arose on every hand. The mayor rose from his chair and, in an + impressive voice, said: “We must have order. Sit down, Mr. Simmons.” + Simmons sat down promptly. Union men are thoroughly disciplined in points + of order. “We must have order,” continued the mayor. “I will not permit + any citizen to be insulted. We all did our bit in this town of Blackwater. + Some of us went to fight, and some that could not go to fight 'kept the + home fires burning'.” A shout of derisive laughter from the working men + greeted this phrase. The mayor was deeply hurt. “I want to say that those + who could not go to the war did their bit at home. Let the meeting + proceed, but let us observe the courtesies that are proper in debate.” + </p> + <p> + Again Simmons took the floor. “As I was sayin', Mr. Mayor—” + </p> + <p> + Cries of “Order! Order! Sit down!” + </p> + <p> + “—Mr. Mayor, I believe I 'ave the floor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you have. Go on. But you must not insult.” + </p> + <p> + “(H)Insult? Did I (h)insult anybody? I don't know what Mr. McGinnis made + from 'is shells. I only said that if—you (h)understand—if 'e + made more than e ought to, 'e is a robber. And since the price of our + freedom was paid in blood, if 'e made more than was fair, 'e's a blood + robber.” + </p> + <p> + Again the cries arose. “Throw him out!” Once more the mayor rose. “You + must not make insinuations, sir,” he cried angrily. “You must not make + insinuations against respectable citizens.” + </p> + <p> + “(H)Insinooations,” cried Simmons. “No, sir, I never make no + (h)insinooations. If I knew that (h)any man 'ere 'ad made (h)unfair + profits I wouldn't make no (h)insinooations. I would charge 'im right 'ere + with blood robbery. And let me say,” shouted Simmons, taking a step into + the aisle, “that the time may come when the working men of this country + will make these charges, and will (h)ask the people who kept the ''ome + fires burning'—” + </p> + <p> + Yells of derisive laughter. + </p> + <p> + “—what profits came to them from these same 'ome fires. The people + will (h)ask for an (h)explanation of these bank accounts, of these new + factories, of these big stores, of these (h)autermobiles. The people that + went to the war and were (h)unfortoonate enough to return came back to + poverty, while many of these 'ere 'ome fire burners came (h)out with + fortunes.” At this point brother Simmons cast a fierce and baleful eye + upon a group of the employers who sat silent and wrathful before him. “And + now, what I say,” continued Brother Simmons— + </p> + <p> + At this point a quiet voice was heard. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mayor, I rise to a point of order.” + </p> + <p> + Immediately Simmons took his seat. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Farrington,” said the mayor, recognising one of the largest building + contractors in the town. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mayor, I should like to ask what are we discussing this afternoon? + Are we discussing the war records of the citizens of Blackwater? If so, + that is not what I came for. It may be interesting to find out what each + man did in the war. I find that those who did most say least. I don't know + what Mr. Simmons did in the war. I suppose he was there.” + </p> + <p> + With one spring Simmons was on his feet and in the aisle. He ripped off + coat and vest, pulled his shirt over his head and revealed a back covered + with the network of ghastly scars. “The gentleman (h)asks,” he panted, + “what I done in the war. I don't know. I cannot say what I done in the + war, but that is what the war done to me.” The effect was positively + overwhelming. + </p> + <p> + A deadly silence gripped the audience for a single moment. Then upon every + hand rose fierce yells, oaths and strange cries. Above the uproar came + Farrington's booming voice. Leaving his seat, which was near the back of + the hall, he came forward, crying out: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! I demand attention!” As he reached Simmons's side, + he paused and, facing about, he looked upon the array of faces pale and + tense with passion. “I want to apologise to this gentleman,” he said in a + voice breaking with emotion. “I should not have said what I did. The man + who bears these scars is a man I am proud to know.” He turned swiftly + toward Simmons with outstretched hand. “I am proud to know you, sir. I + could not go to the war. I was past age. I sent my two boys. They are over + there still.” As the two men shook hands, for once in his life Simmons was + speechless. His face was suffused with uncontrollable feeling. On every + side were seen men, strong men, with tears streaming down their faces. A + nobler spirit seemed to fall upon them all. In the silence that followed, + Mr. Maitland rose. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mayor,” he said quietly, “we have all suffered together in this war. + I, for one, want to do the fair thing by our men. Let us meet them and + talk things over before any fair-minded committee. Surely we who have + suffered together in war can work together in peace.” It was a noble + appeal, and met with a noble response. On all sides and from all parties a + storm of cheers broke forth. + </p> + <p> + Then the Reverend Murdo Matheson rose to his feet. “Mr. Mayor,” he said, + “I confess I was not hopeful of the result of this meeting. But I am sure + we all recognise the presence and influence of a mightier Spirit than + ours. From the outset I have been convinced that the problems in the + industrial situation here are not beyond solution, and should yield to + fair and reasonable consideration. I venture to move that a committee of + five be appointed, two to be chosen by each of the parties in this + dispute, who would in turn choose a chairman; that this committee meet + with representatives of both parties; and that their decision in all cases + be final.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Farrington rose and heartily seconded the motion. + </p> + <p> + At this point Jack, who was sitting near the platform and whose eyes were + wandering over the audience, was startled by the look on the face of + McNish. It was a look in which mingled fear, anxiety, wrath. He seemed to + be on the point of starting to his feet when McGinnis broke in: + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand that the decision of this committee is to be final on + every point?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the Reverend Murdo. “There is no other way by which we + can arrive at a decision.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean,” cried McGinnis, “that if this committee says I must hire + only union men in my foundry that I must do so?” + </p> + <p> + “I would reply,” said the Reverend Murdo, “that we must trust this + committee to act in a fair and reasonable way.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. McGinnis was not satisfied with this answer. + </p> + <p> + “I want to know,” he cried in growing anger, “I want to know exactly where + we are and I want a definite answer. Will this committee have the right to + force me to employ only union men?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mayor,” replied the Reverend Murdo, “Mr. McGinnis is right in asking + for definiteness. My answer is that we must trust this committee to do + what is wise and reasonable, and we must accept their decision as final in + every case.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon McGinnis rose and expressed an earnest desire for a tragic and + unhappy and age-long fate if he would consent to any such proposition. + With terrible swiftness the spirit of the meeting was changed. The moment + of lofty emotion and noble impulse passed. The opportunity for reason and + fair play to determine the issue was lost, and the old evil spirit of + suspicion and hate fell upon the audience like a pall. + </p> + <p> + At this point McNish, from whose face all anxiety had disappeared, rose + and said: + </p> + <p> + “For my part, and speaking for the working men of this town, I am ready to + accept the proposal that has been made. We have no fear for the justice of + our demands like some men here present. We know we have the right on our + side and we are willing to accept the judgment of such a committee as has + been proposed.” The words were fair enough, but the tone of sneering + contempt was so irritating that immediately the position assumed by + McGinnis received support from his fellow employers on every hand. Once + more uproar ensued. The mayor, in a state of angry excitement, sought in + vain to restore order. + </p> + <p> + After some minutes of heated altercation with Mr. McGinnis, whom he + threatened with expulsion from the meeting, the mayor finally left the + chair and the meeting broke up in disorder which threatened to degenerate + into a series of personal encounters. + </p> + <p> + Again McNish took command. Leaping upon a chair, with a loud voice which + caught at once the ears of his following, he announced that a meeting was + to be held immediately in the union rooms, and he added: “When these men + here want us again, they know where to find us.” He was answered with a + roar of approval, and with an ugly smile on his face he led his people in + triumph from the hall, leaving behind the mayor, still engaged in a heated + argument with McGinnis and certain employers who sympathised with the + Irishman's opinions. Thus the strike passed into another and more + dangerous phase. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + GATHERING CLOUDS + </h3> + <p> + On the Rectory lawn a hard-fought game had just finished, bringing to a + conclusion a lengthened series of contests which had extended over a whole + week, in which series Patricia, with her devoted cavalier, Victor + Forsythe, had been forced to accept defeat at the hands of her sister and + her partner, Hugh Maynard. + </p> + <p> + “Partner, you were wonderful in that last set!” said Patricia, as they + moved off together to offer their congratulations to their conquerors. + </p> + <p> + “Patsy,” said her partner, in a low voice, “as ever, you are superb in + defeat as in victory. Superb, unapproachable, wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + “Anything else, Vic?” inquired Patsy, grinning at the youth. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a whole lot more, Pat, if you only give me a chance to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “No time just now,” cried Patricia as she reached the others. “Well, you + two deserved to win. You played ripping tennis,” she continued, offering + Hugh her hand. + </p> + <p> + “So did you, Pat. You were at the very top of your form.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, some other day,” said Vic. “I think we are improving a bit, + partner. A little more close harmony will do the trick.” + </p> + <p> + “Come away, children,” said Mrs. Templeton, calling to them from the shade + at the side of the courts. “You must be very tired and done out. Why, how + hot you look, Patricia.” + </p> + <p> + “Stunning, I should say!” murmured Vic, looking at her with adoring eyes. + </p> + <p> + And a truly wonderful picture the girl made, in her dainty muslin frock, + her bold red hair tossed in a splendid aureole about her face. Care-free, + heart-free, as she flashed from her hearty blue eyes her saucy and + bewitching glances at her partner's face, her mother sighed, thinking that + her baby girl was swiftly slipping away from her and forever into that + wider world of womanhood where others would claim her. + </p> + <p> + In lovely contrast stood her sister, dressed in flannel skirt and sweater + of old gold silk, fair, tall, beautiful, a delicate grace in every line of + her body and a proud, yet gentle strength in every feature of her face. + There dwelt in her deep blue eyes a look of hidden, mysterious power which + had wrought in her mother a certain fear of her eldest daughter. The + mother never quite knew what to expect from Adrien. Yet, for all, she + carried an assured confidence that whatever she might do, her daughter + never would shame the high traditions of her race. + </p> + <p> + The long shadows from the tall elms lay across the velvet sward of the + Rectory lawn. The heat of the early June day had given place to the cool + air of the evening. The exquisitely delicate colouring from the setting + sun flooded the sky overhead and deepened into blues and purples behind + the elms and the church spire. A deep peace had fallen upon the world + except that from the topmost bough of the tallest elm tree a robin sang, + pouring his very heart out in a song of joyous optimism. + </p> + <p> + The little group, disposed upon the lawn according to their various + desires, stood and sat looking up at the brave little songster. + </p> + <p> + “How happy he is,” said Mrs. Templeton, a wistful cadence of sadness in + her voice. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if he is, Mamma. Perhaps he is only pretending,” said Adrien. + </p> + <p> + “Cheerio, old chap!” cried Vic, waving his hand at the gallant little + songster. “You are a regular grouch killer.” + </p> + <p> + “He has no troubles,” said Mrs. Templeton, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder, Mamma. Or is he just bluffing us all?” + </p> + <p> + “He has no strike, at any rate, to worry him,” said Patricia, “and, by the + way, what is the news to-day? Does anybody know? Is there any change?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” cried Vic, “there has been a most exciting morning at the E. D. C.—the + Employers' Defence Committee,” he explained, in answer to Mrs. Templeton's + mystified look. + </p> + <p> + “Do go on!” cried Patricia impatiently. “Was there a fight? They are + always having one.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course there was the usual morning scrap, but with a variation to-day + of a deputation from the brethren of the Ministerial Association. But, of + course, Mrs. Templeton, the Doctor must have told you already.” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly ever see him these days. He is dreadfully occupied. There is so + much trouble, sickness and that sort of thing. Oh, it is all terribly sad. + The Doctor is almost worn out.” + </p> + <p> + “He made a wonderful speech to the magnates, my governor says.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go on, Vic!” cried Patricia. “Why do you stop? You are so + deliberate.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of that speech,” replied Victor more quietly than was his + wont. “It came at a most dramatic moment. The governor was quite worked up + over it and gave me a full account. They had just got all their reports in—'all + safe along the Potomac'—no break in the front line—Building + Industries slightly shaky due to working men's groups taking on small + contracts, which excited great wrath and which McGinnis declared must be + stopped.” + </p> + <p> + “How can they stop them? This is a free country,” said Adrien. + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” cried Victor. “Little you know of the resources of the E. D. C. It + is proposed that the supply dealers should refuse supplies to all builders + until the strike is settled. No more lumber, lime, cement, etc., etc.” + </p> + <p> + “Boycott, eh? I call that pretty rotten,” said Adrien. + </p> + <p> + “The majority were pretty much for it, however, except Maitland and my + governor, they protesting that this boycott was hardly playing the game. + Your friend Captain Jack came in for his licks,” continued Vic, turning to + Patricia. “It appears he has been employing strikers in some work or + other, which some of the brethren considered to be not according to + Hoyle.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” cried Patricia indignantly. “Jack took me yesterday to see the + work. He showed me all the plans and we went over the grounds. It is a + most splendid thing, Mamma! He is laying out athletic grounds for his men, + with a club house and all that sort of thing. They are going to be + perfectly splendid! Do you mean to say they were blaming him for this? Who + was?” And Patricia stood ready for battle. + </p> + <p> + “Kamerad!” cried Vic, holding up his hands. “Not me! However, Jack was + exonerated, for it appears he sent them a letter two weeks ago, telling + them what he proposed to do, to which letter they had raised no + objection.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what then?” inquired Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the usual thing. They all resolved to stand pat—no surrender—or, + rather, let the whole line advance—you know the stuff—when + into this warlike atmosphere walked the deputation from the Ministerial + Association. It gave the E. D. C. a slight shock, so my Dad says. The + Doctor fired the first gun. My governor says that it was like a breath + from another world. His face was enough. Everybody felt mean for just + being what they were. I know exactly what that is, for I know the way he + makes me feel when I look at him in church. You know what I mean, Pat.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said Patricia softly, letting her hand fall upon her mother's + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” continued Vic, “the Doctor just talked to them as if they were his + children. They hadn't been very good and he was sorry for them. He would + like to help them to be better. The other side, too, had been doing wrong, + and they were having a bad time. They were suffering, and as he went on to + tell them in that wonderful voice of his about the women and children, + every man in the room, so the governor said, was wondering how much he had + in his pocket. And then he told them of how wicked it was for men whose + sons had died together in France to be fighting each other here in Canada. + Well, you know my governor. As he told me this tale, we just both of us + bowed our heads and wept. It's the truth, so help me, just as you are + doing now, Pat.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not,” cried Patricia indignantly. “And I don't care if I am. He is a + dear and those men are just—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, dear,” said Mrs. Templeton gently. “And did they agree to + anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, not they, for at that moment some old Johnny began asking questions + and then that old fire-eater, McGinnis, horned in again. No Arbitration + Committee for him—no one could come into his foundry and tell him + how to run his business—same old stuff, you know. Well, then, the + Methodist Johnny took a hand. What's his name? Haynes, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Haynes,” said Hugh Maynard. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Brother Haynes took up the tale. He is an eloquent chap, all right. + He took the line 'As you are strong, be pitiful,' but the psychological + moment had gone and the line still held strong. Campbell of the woollen + mills invited him up to view his $25,000.00 stock 'all dressed up and + nowhere to go.' 'Tell me how I can pay increased wages with this stock on + my hands.' And echo answered 'How?' Haynes could not. Then my old chief + took a hand—the Reverend Murdo Matheson. He is a good old scout, a + Padre, you know—regular fire-eater—a rasping voice and grey + matter oozing from his pores. My governor says he abandoned the frontal + attack and took them on the flank. Opened up with a dose of economics that + made them sit up. And when he got through on this line, he made every man + feel that it was entirely due to the courtesy and forbearance of the union + that he was allowed to carry on business at all. He spiked Brother + McGinnis's guns by informing him that if he was harbouring the idea that + he owned a foundry all on his own, he was labouring under a hallucination. + All he owned was a heap of brick and mortar and some iron and steel junk + arranged in some peculiar way. In fact, there was no foundry there till + the workmen came in and started the wheels going round. Old McGinnis sat + gasping like a chicken with the pip. Then the Padre turned on the 'Liberty + of the subject' stop as follows: 'Mr. McGinnis insists upon liberty to run + his foundry as he likes; insists upon perfect freedom of action. There is + no such thing as perfect freedom of action in modern civilisation. For + instance, Mr. McGinnis rushing to catch a train, hurls his Hudson Six + gaily down Main Street thirty miles an hour, on the left-hand side of the + street. A speed cop sidles up, whispers a sweet something in his ear, + hails him ignominiously into court and invites him to contribute to the + support of the democracy fifty little iron men as an evidence of his + devotion to the sacred principle of personal liberty. In short, there is + no such thing as personal liberty in this burg, unless it is too late for + the cop to see.' The governor says McGinnis's face afforded a perfect + study in emotions. I should have liked to have seen it. The Padre never + took his foot off the accelerator. He took them all for an excursion along + the 'Responsibility' line: personal responsibility, mutual responsibility, + community responsibility and every responsibility known to the modern + mind. And then when he had them eating out of his hand, he offered them + two alternatives: an Arbitration Committee as formerly proposed, or a + Conciliation Board under the Lemieux Act. My governor says it was a great + speech. He had 'em all jumping through the hoops.” + </p> + <p> + “What DO you mean, Vic?” lamented Mrs. Templeton. “I have only the very + vaguest idea of what you have been saying all this time.” + </p> + <p> + “So sorry, Mrs. Templeton. What I mean is the Padre delivered a most + effective speech.” + </p> + <p> + “And did they settle anything?” inquired Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “I regret to say, Patricia, that your friend Rupert—” + </p> + <p> + “My friend, indeed!” cried Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “Who comforts you with bonbons,” continued Vic, ignoring her words, “and + stays you with joy rides, interposed at this second psychological crisis. + He very cleverly moves a vote of thanks, bows out the deputation, thanking + them for their touching addresses, and promising consideration. Thereupon, + as the door closed, he proceeded to sound the alarm once more, collected + the scattered forces, flung the gage of battle in the teeth of the enemy, + dared them to do their worst, and there you are.” + </p> + <p> + “And nothing done?” cried Adrien. “What a shame.” + </p> + <p> + “What I cannot understand is,” said Hugh, “why the unions do not invoke + the Lemieux Act?” + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” said Vic. “Why? The same question rose to my lips.” + </p> + <p> + “The Lemieux Act?” inquired Mrs. Templeton. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You know, Mrs. Templeton, either party in dispute can ask for a + Board of Conciliation, not Arbitration, you understand. This Board has + power to investigate—bring out all the facts—and failing to + effect conciliation, makes public its decision in the case, leaving both + parties at the bar of public opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “But I cannot understand why the unions do not ask for this Conciliation + Board.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear, Hugh,” said Victor in an awed and solemn voice, “that there is an + Ethiopian in the coal bin.” + </p> + <p> + “What DOES he mean, Patricia?” + </p> + <p> + “He means that there is something very dark and mysterious, Mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “So there is,” said Hugh. “The unions will take an Arbitration Committee, + which the employers decline to give, but they will not ask for a + Conciliation Board.” + </p> + <p> + “My governor says it's a bluff,” said Vic. “The unions know quite well + that McGinnis et hoc genus omne will have nothing to do with an + Arbitration Committee. Hence they are all for an Arbitration Committee. On + the other hand, neither the unions nor McGinnis are greatly in love with + the prying methods of the Conciliation Board, and hence reject the aid of + the Lemieux Act.” + </p> + <p> + “But why should they all be dominated by a man like McGinnis?” demanded + Adrien. “Why doesn't some employer demand a Conciliation Board? He can get + it, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “They naturally stand together,” said Hugh. + </p> + <p> + “But they won't long. Maitland declares that he will take either board, + and that if the committee cannot agree which to choose, he will withdraw + and make terms on his own. He furthermore gave them warning that if any + strike-breakers were employed, of which he had heard rumours, he would + have nothing to do with the bunch.” + </p> + <p> + “Strike-breakers?” said Adrien. “That would certainly mean serious + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, you are jolly well right,” said Vic. “We will all be in it then. + Civic guard! Special police! 'Shun! Fix bayonets! Prepare for cavalry! + Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how terrible it all is,” said Mrs. Templeton. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Vic,” said Hugh. “Don't listen to him, Mrs. Templeton. We will + have nothing of that sort.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is all very sad,” said Mrs. Templeton. “But here is Rupert. He + will give us the latest.” + </p> + <p> + But Rupert appeared unwilling to talk about the meeting of the morning. He + was quite certain, however, that the strike was about to break. He had + inside information that the resources of the unions were almost exhausted. + The employers were tightening up all along the line, credits were being + refused at the stores, the unions were torn with dissension, the end was + at hand. + </p> + <p> + “It would be a great mercy if it would end soon,” said Mrs. Templeton. “It + is a sad pity that these poor people are so misguided.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a cruel shame, Mrs. Templeton,” said Rupert indignantly. “I have it + from scores of them that they didn't want to strike at all. They were + getting good wages—the wage scale has gone up steadily during the + war to the present extravagant height.” + </p> + <p> + “The cost of living has gone up much more rapidly, I believe,” said + Adrien. “The men are working ten hours a day, the conditions under which + they labour are in some cases deplorable; that McGinnis foundry is a + ghastly place, terribly unhealthy; the girls in many of the factories are + paid wages so shamefully low that they can hardly maintain themselves in + decency, and they are continually being told that they are about to be + dismissed. The wrong's not all on one side, by any means. To my mind, men + like McGinnis who are unwilling to negotiate are a menace to the country.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, Adrien,” replied Hugh. “I consider him a most + dangerous man. That sort of pig-headed, bull-headed employer of labour + does more to promote strife than a dozen 'walking delegates.' I am not + terribly strong for the unions, but the point of vantage is always with + the employers. And they have a lot to learn. Oh, you may look at me, + Adrien! I am no bolshevist, but I see a lot of these men in our office.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + THE STORM + </h3> + <p> + Slowly the evening was deepening into night, but still the glow from the + setting sun lingered in the western sky. The brave little songster had + gone from the top of the elm tree, but from the shrubbery behind the + church a whippoorwill was beginning to tune his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, listen to the darling!” cried Patricia. “I haven't heard one for a + long, long time.” + </p> + <p> + “There used to be a great many in the shrubbery here, and in the old days + the woods nearby were full of them in the evenings,” said Mrs. Templeton. + </p> + <p> + As they sat listening for the whippoorwill's voice, they became aware of + other sounds floating up to their ears from the town. The hum of passing + motors, the high, shrill laughter of children playing in the streets, the + clang of the locomotive bell from the railroad station, all softened by + distance. But as they listened there came another sound like nothing they + had ever heard in that place before. A strange, confused rumbling, with + cries jutting out through the dull, rolling noise. A little later came the + faint clash of rhythmic, tumultuous cheering. Patricia's quick ears were + the first to catch the sound. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” she cried. “What is that noise?” + </p> + <p> + Again came the rumbling sound, punctuated with quick volleys of cheering. + The men glanced at each other. They knew well that sound, a sound they had + often heard during the stirring days of the war, in the streets of the + great cities across the seas, and in other places, too, where men were + wont to crowd. As they listened in tense silence, there came the throbbing + of a drum. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said Mrs. Templeton faintly to her eldest daughter, “I think I + shall go in.” + </p> + <p> + At once Hugh offered her his arm, while Adrien took the other, and + together they led her slowly into the house. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the others tumbled into Rupert's car and motored down to the + gate, and there waited the approach of what seemed to be a procession of + some sort or other. + </p> + <p> + At the gate Dr. Templeton, returning from his pastor visitations, found + them standing. + </p> + <p> + “Come here, Papa!” cried Patricia. “Let us wait here. There is something + coming up the street.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is it?” asked Dr. Templeton. “Does anybody know?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess it is a strikers' parade, sir. I heard that they were to organise + a march-out to-night. It is rather a ridiculous thing.” + </p> + <p> + Through the deepening twilight they could see at the head of the column + and immediately before the band, a double platoon of young girls dressed + in white, under the command of an officer distinguished from the others by + her red sash, all marching with a beautiful precision to the tap of the + drum. As the head of the column drew opposite, Patricia touched Vic's arm. + </p> + <p> + “Vic!” she cried. “Look! Look at that girl! It is Annette!” + </p> + <p> + “My aunt! So it is!” cried Vic. “Jove! What a picture she makes! What a + swing!” + </p> + <p> + Behind that swinging company of girls came the band, marching to the + tapping of the drum only. Then after a space came a figure, pathetic, + arresting, moving—a woman, obviously a workman's wife, of middle + age, grey, workworn, and carrying a babe of a few months in her arms, + marched alone. Plainly dressed, her grey head bare, she walked proudly + erect but with evident signs of weariness. The appearance of that lone, + weary, grey-haired woman and her helpless babe struck hard upon the heart + with its poignant appeal, choking men's throats and bringing hot tears to + women's eyes. Following that lonely figure came one who was apparently the + officer in command of the column. As he came opposite the gate, his eye + fell upon the group there. Swiftly he turned about, and, like a trumpet, + his voice rang out in command: + </p> + <p> + “Ba-t-t-a-a-lion, halt!! R-r-r-i-g-h-t turn!” + </p> + <p> + Immediately the whole column came to a halt and faced toward the side of + the street where stood the group within the shadow of the gate. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to get Annette,” said Patricia to her father, and she darted + off, returning almost immediately with the leader of the girls' squad. + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean, Annette? What are you doing? It is a great lark!” + cried Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is not exactly a lark,” answered Annette, with a slight laugh. + “You see, we girls want to help out the boys. We are strikers, too, you + know. They asked us to take part in the parade, and here we are. But it's + got away past being a lark,” she continued, her voice and face growing + stern. “There is a lot of suffering among the workers. I know all my money + has gone,” she added, after a moment, with a gay laugh. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the officer commanding the column had spoken a few words to the + leader of the band, and in response, to the surprise and dismay of the + venerable Doctor, the band struck up that rollicking air associated with + the time-honoured chorus, “For He's a Jolly Good Fellow.” Then all stood + silent, gazing at the Doctor, who, much embarrassed, could only gaze back + in return. + </p> + <p> + “Papa, dear,” said Adrien, who with Hugh Maynard had joined them at the + gate, “you will have to speak to them.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak to them, my dear? What in the world could I say? I have nothing to + say to them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but you must, Papa! Just thank them.” + </p> + <p> + “And tell them you are all for them, Daddy!” added Patricia impulsively. + </p> + <p> + Then the old Doctor, buttoning his coat tightly about him and drawing + himself erect, said: + </p> + <p> + “Rupert, please run your car out to the road. Thank you.” Mounting the + car, he stood waiting quietly till the cheering had died down into + silence, his beautiful, noble, saintly face lit with the faint glow that + still came from the western sky but more with the inner light that shines + from a soul filled with high faith in God and compassion for man. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen—” he began. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies, too, Papa,” said Patricia in a clear undertone. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” corrected the Doctor. “Ladies and Gentlemen:” while a laugh ran down + the line. “One generally begins a speech with the words 'I am glad to see + you here.' These words I cannot say this evening. I regret more deeply + than you can understand the occasion of your being here at all. And in + this regret I know that you all share. But I am glad that I can say from + my heart that I feel honoured by and deeply moved by the compliment you + have just paid me through your band. I could wish, indeed, that I was the + 'jolly good fellow' you have said, but as I look at you I confess I am + anything but 'jolly.' I have been in too many of your homes during the + last three weeks to be jolly. The simple truth is, I am deeply saddened + and, whatever be the rights or wrongs, and all fair-minded men will agree + that there are rights and wrongs on both sides, my heart goes out in + sympathy to all who are suffering and anxious and fearful for the future. + I will try to do my best to bring about a better understanding.” + </p> + <p> + “We know that, sir,” shouted a voice. “Ye done yer best.” + </p> + <p> + “But so far I and those labouring with me have failed. But surely, surely, + wise and reasonable men can find before many days a solution for these + problems. And now let me beg your leaders to be patient a little longer, + to banish angry and suspicious feelings and to be willing to follow the + light. I see that many of you are soldiers. To you my heart goes out with + a love as true as if you were my own sons, for you were the comrades of my + son. Let me appeal to you to preserve unbroken that fine spirit of + comradeship that made the Canadian Army what it was. And let me assure you + all that, however our weak and erring human hearts may fail and come + short, the great heart of the Eternal Father is unchanging in Its love and + pity for us all. Meantime, believe me, I shall never cease to labour and + pray that very soon peace may come to us again.” Then, lifting his hands + over them while the men uncovered, he said a brief prayer, closing with + the apostolic blessing. + </p> + <p> + Startled at the burst of cheering which followed shortly after the + conclusion of the prayer, the babe broke into loud crying. Vainly the + weary mother sought to quiet her child, she herself well-nigh exhausted + with her march, being hardly able to stand erect. Swiftly Adrien sprang + from the car and ran out to her. + </p> + <p> + “Let me carry the babe,” she cried, taking the child in her arms. “Come + into the car with me.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the woman fiercely. “I will go through with it.” But even as + she spoke she swayed upon her feet. + </p> + <p> + With gentle insistence, however, Adrien caught her arm and forced her + toward the car. + </p> + <p> + “I will not leave them,” said the woman stubbornly. + </p> + <p> + “Speak to her, Annette,” said Adrien. “She cannot walk.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Egan,” said Annette, coming to her, “it will be quite all right to + go in the car. It will be all the better. Think of the fine parade it will + make.” + </p> + <p> + But, still protesting, the old woman hung back, crying, “Let me go! I will + go through!” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing!” cried Patricia. “We will take you along. Where's Rupert?” + </p> + <p> + But Rupert, furious and disgusted, hung back in the shadow. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Vic!” cried Patricia. “You take the wheel!” + </p> + <p> + “Delighted, I am sure!” cried Vic, climbing into the seat. “Get in here, + Patsy. All set, Colonel,” he added, saluting to the officer in command of + the parade, and again the column broke into cheering as they moved off to + the tap of the drum, Rupert's elegant Hudson Six taking a place + immediately following the band. + </p> + <p> + “All my life I have longed for the spotlight,” murmured Vic to his + companion, a delighted grin on his face. “But one can have too much of a + good thing. And, with Wellington, I am praying that night may come before + I reach the haunts of my comrades in arms.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Vic, do you care?” cried Patricia. “Not I! And I think it was just + splendid of Adrien!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, topping! But did you see the gentle Rupert's face? Oh, it was simply + priceless! Fancy this sacred car leading a strikers' parade.” And Vic's + body shook with delighted chuckles. + </p> + <p> + “Don't laugh, Vic!” said Patricia, laying her hand upon his arm. “The lady + behind will see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Steady it is,” said Vic. “But I feel as if I were the elephant in the + circus. I say, can we execute a flank movement, or must we go through to + the bitter end?” + </p> + <p> + “Adrien,” said Patricia, “do you think this night air is good for the + baby?” + </p> + <p> + “We shall go on a bit yet,” said Adrien. “Mrs. Egan is very tired and I am + sure will want to go home presently.” + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Egan was beginning to recover her strength and, indeed, to enjoy + the new distinction of riding in a car, and in this high company. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, “I must go through.” She had the look and tone of a + martyr. “They chose me, you see, and I must go through!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well,” said Adrien cheerfully. “We shall just go along, Vic.” + </p> + <p> + Through the main streets of the town the parade marched and countermarched + till, in a sudden, they found themselves in front of the McGinnis foundry. + Before the gate in the high board fence which enclosed the property, a + small crowd had gathered, which greeted the marching column with + uproarious cheers. From the company at the gate a man rushed forward and + spoke eagerly to the officer in command. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, there's Tony!” said Vic. “And that chap McDonough. What does + this mean?” + </p> + <p> + After a brief conversation with Tony, who apparently was passionately + pressing his opinion, the officer shook his head and marched steadily + forward. Suddenly Tony, climbing upon the fence, threw up his hand and, + pointing toward the foundry, shouted forth the single word, “Scabs!” + Instantly the column halted. Again Tony, in a yell, uttered the same word, + “Scabs!” From hundreds of throats there was an answering roar, savage, + bloodthirsty as from a pack of wild beasts. Tony waved his hand for + silence. + </p> + <p> + “Scabs!” he cried again. “McGinnis strike-breakers! They came to-night. + They are in there!” He swung his arm around and pointed to the foundry. + “Shall we give them a welcome? What do you say, boys?” Again and more + fiercely than before, more terribly cruel, came the answering roar. + </p> + <p> + “Here, this is no place for you!” cried Vic. “Let's get out.” At his touch + the machine leaped forward, clear of the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “Annette!” cried Adrien, her hand on Vic's shoulder. “Go and get her!” + </p> + <p> + Halting the car, Vic leaped from the wheel, ran to where the girls' squad + was halted and caught Annette by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Annette,” he said, “get your girls away from here quick! Come with us!” + </p> + <p> + But Annette laughed scornfully at him. + </p> + <p> + “Go with you? Not I! But,” she added in a breathless undertone, “for God's + sake, get your ladies and the baby away. These people won't know who you + are. Move quick!” + </p> + <p> + “Come with us, Annette!” implored Vic. “If you come, the rest will + follow.” + </p> + <p> + “Go! Go!” cried Annette, pushing him. Already the crowd were tearing the + fence to pieces with their hands, and rocks were beginning to fly. + </p> + <p> + Failing to move the girl, Vic sprang to the wheel again. + </p> + <p> + “I will get you away from this, anyway,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “But Annette!” cried Patricia. “We can't leave her!” + </p> + <p> + But Vic made no reply, and at his touch the machine leaped forward, and + none too soon, for already men were crowding about the car on every side. + </p> + <p> + “We are well out of that!” said Vic coolly. “And now I will take you all + home. Hello! They're messing up McGinnis's things a bit,” he added, as the + sound of crashing glass came to their ears. + </p> + <p> + Through the quiet streets the car flew like a hunted thing, and in a very + few minutes they were at the Rectory door. + </p> + <p> + “No fuss, now, Patricia,” said Adrien, “we must not alarm Mamma. All + steady.” + </p> + <p> + “Right you are! Steady it is!” said Patricia springing from the car. + Quietly but swiftly they got the woman and the child indoors. + </p> + <p> + “Hugh! Rupert!” said Adrien, speaking in a quiet voice. “Vic needs you out + there. That is a wild car of yours, Rupert,” she added with a laugh. “It + fairly flies.” Gathering in her hands the men's hats and sticks, she + hurried them out of the door. + </p> + <p> + “Cheerio!” cried Vic. “A lovely war is going on down at the McGinnis + plant. Get in and let us plan a campaign. First, to Police Headquarters, I + suppose.” As they flew through the streets Vic gave them in a few words a + picture of the scenes he had just witnessed. + </p> + <p> + They found the Chief of Police in his office. At their first word he was + on the move. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid of this thing when that fool parade started,” he said. + “Sergeant, send out the general alarm!” + </p> + <p> + “How many men have you, Chief?” inquired Hugh. + </p> + <p> + “About twenty-five, all told. But they are all over the town. How many men + are down there?” + </p> + <p> + “There are five hundred, at least; possibly a thousand, raging like wild + bulls of Bashan.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, another car came tearing up and Jack Maitland sprang from the + wheel. + </p> + <p> + “Are you in need of help, Chief?” he asked quietly. + </p> + <p> + “All the good men we can get,” said the Chief curtly. “But first we must + get the Mayor here. Sergeant, get him on the phone.” + </p> + <p> + “You go for him, Vic,” said Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Righto!” cried Vic. “But count me in on this.” + </p> + <p> + In fifteen minutes Vic was back with the Mayor, helpless with nervous + excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Get your men out, Chief!” he shouted, as he sprang from the car. “Get + them out quick, arrest those devils and lock 'em up! We'll show them a + thing or two! Hurry up! What are you waiting for?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mayor,” Jack's clear, firm, cool voice arrested the Mayor's + attention. “May I suggest that you swear in some special constables? The + Chief will need help and some of us here would be glad to assist.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Yes! For God's sake, hurry up! Here's the clerk. How do you swear + them in, clerk?” + </p> + <p> + “The Chief of Police has all the necessary authority.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Chief. Swear them! Swear them! For heaven's sake, swear them! + Here, you, Maitland—and you, Maynard—and Stillwell—” + </p> + <p> + With cool, swift efficiency born of his experience in the war, the Chief + went on with his arrangements. In his hands the process of swearing in a + number of special constables was speedily accomplished. Meantime many cars + and a considerable number of men had gathered about the Police + Headquarters. + </p> + <p> + “What is that light?” cried the Mayor suddenly, pointing in the direction + of the foundry. “It's a fire! My God, Chief, do you see that fire? Hurry + up! Why don't you hurry up? They will burn the town down.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mr. Mayor,” said the Chief. “We shall be there in a few + minutes now. Captain Maitland,” said the Chief, “I will take the men I + have with me. Will you swear in all you can get within the next fifteen or + twenty minutes, and report to me at the foundry? Sergeant, you come along + with me! I'm off!” So saying, the Chief commandeered as many cars as were + necessary, packed them with the members of his police force available and + with the specials he had secured, and hurried away. + </p> + <p> + After the Chief had retired, Jack stood up in his car. “Any of you chaps + want to get into this?” he said, addressing the crowd. His voice was + cheery and cool. At once a dozen voices responded. “Righto!” “Here you + are!” “Put me down!” In less than fifteen minutes, he had secured between + forty and fifty men. + </p> + <p> + “I want all these cars,” he said. “Get in, men. Hold on!” he shouted at a + driver who had thrown in his clutch. “Let no man move without orders! Any + man disobeying orders will be arrested at once! Remember that no guns are + to be used, no matter what provocation may be given. Even if you are fired + on, don't fire in return! Does any man know where we can get anything in + the shape of clubs?” + </p> + <p> + “Hundreds of axe handles in our store,” said Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “Right you are! Drivers, fall in line. Keep close up. Now, Mr. Mayor, if + you please.” + </p> + <p> + Armed with axe handles from Stillwell & Son's store, they set off for + the scene of action. Arrived at the foundry they found the maddest, + wildest confusion raging along the street in front of the foundry, and in + the foundry yard which was crowded with men. The board fence along the + front of the grounds had been torn down and used as fagots to fire the + foundry, which was blazing merrily in a dozen places. Everywhere about the + blazing building parties of men like hounds on the trail were hunting down + strike-breakers and, on finding them, were brutally battering them into + insensibility. + </p> + <p> + Driving his car through the crowd, Maitland found his way to the Chief. In + a few short, sharp sentences, the Chief explained his plan of operations. + “Clear the street in front, and hold it so! Then come and assist me in + clearing this yard.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir!” replied Maitland, touching his hat as to a superior + officer, and, wheeling his car, he led his men back to the thronging + street. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the Fire Department had arrived upon the scene with a couple of + engines, a hose reel and other fire-fighting apparatus, the firemen + greatly hampered in their operations. + </p> + <p> + Swinging his car back through the crowd, Maitland made his way to the + street, and set to work to clear the space immediately in front of the + foundry. Parking his cars at one end of the street, and forming his men up + in a single line, he began slowly to press back the crowd. It was slow and + difficult work, for the crowd, unable to recognise his ununiformed special + constables, resented their attack. + </p> + <p> + He called Victor to his side. “Get a man with you,” he said, “and bring up + two cars here.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along, Rupert,” cried Victor, seizing Stillwell, and together they + darted back to where the cars stood. Mounting one of the cars, Maitland + shouted in a loud voice: + </p> + <p> + “The Chief of Police wants this street cleared. So get back, please! We + don't wish to hurt anyone. Now, get back!” And lining up level with the + cars, the special constables again began to press forward, using their axe + handles as bayonets and seeking to prod their way through. + </p> + <p> + High up on a telegraph pole, his foot on one of the climbing spikes, was a + man directing and encouraging the attack. As he drew near, Maitland + discovered this man to be no other than Tony, wildly excited and vastly + enjoying himself. + </p> + <p> + “Come down, Tony!” he said. “Hurry up!” + </p> + <p> + “Cheerio, Captain!” shouted Tony. “What about Festubert?” + </p> + <p> + “Come down, Tony,” said Maitland, “and be quick about it!” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, can't do it, Captain. I am a fixture here.” + </p> + <p> + Like a cat, Maitland swarmed up the pole and coming to a level with Tony, + struck him swiftly and unexpectedly a single blow. It caught Tony on the + chin. He swung off from the post, hung a moment, then dropped quietly to + the ground. As he fell, a woman's shriek rang out from the crowd and + tearing her way through the line came Annette, who flung herself upon her + brother. + </p> + <p> + “Here you,” said Jack, seizing a couple of men from the crowd, “get this + man in my car. Now, Annette,” he continued, “don't make a fuss. Tony isn't + hurt. We'll send him quietly home. Now then, men, let's have no nonsense,” + he shouted. “I want this street cleared, and quick!” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, a huge man ran out from the crowd and, with an oath, flung + himself at Maitland. But before he came within striking distance, an axe + handle flashed and the man went down like a log. + </p> + <p> + “Axe handles!” shouted Maitland. “But steady, men!” + </p> + <p> + Over the heads of the advancing line, the axe handles swung, men dropping + before them at every step. At once the crowd began a hasty retreat, till + the pressure upon the back lines made it impossible for those in front to + escape. From over the heads of the crowd rocks began to fly. A number of + his specials were wounded and for a moment the advance hung fire. Down + through the crowd came a fireman, dragging with him a hose preparatory to + getting into action. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, there!” called Maitland. The fireman looked up at him. Jack sprang + down to his side. “I want to clear this street,” he said. “You can do it + for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can try,” said the fireman with a grin, and turning his hose + toward the crowd, gave the signal for the water, holding the nozzle at an + angle slightly off the perpendicular. In a very few moments the crowd in + the rear found themselves under a deluge of falling water, and immediately + they took to their heels, followed as rapidly as possible by those in + front. Then, levelling his nozzle, the fireman proceeded to wash back from + either side of the street those who had sought refuge there, and before + many minutes had elapsed, the street was cleared, and in command of + Maitland's specials. + </p> + <p> + Leaving the street under guard, Maitland and his specials went to the help + of the Chief, who was hampered more or less by His Worship, the Mayor, and + very considerably by Mr. McGinnis, who had meantime arrived, mad with rage + and demanding blood, and proceeded to clear up the foundry yard, and + rescue the strike-breakers who had taken refuge within the burning + building and in holes and corners about the premises. It was no light + matter, but under the patient, good-natured but resolute direction of the + Chief, they finally completed their job, rounding up the strike-breakers + in a corner of the yard and driving off their assailants to a safe + distance. + </p> + <p> + There remained still the most difficult part of their task. The + strike-breakers must be got to the Police Headquarters, the nearest + available place of safety. For, on the street beyond the water line, the + crowd was still waiting in wrathful mood. The foundry was a wreck, but + even this did not satisfy the fury of the strikers, which had been excited + by the presence of the strike-breakers imported by McGinnis. For the more + seriously injured, ambulances were called, and these were safely got off + under police guard to the General Hospital. + </p> + <p> + The Chief entered into consultation with the Mayor: + </p> + <p> + “The only safe place within reach,” he said, “is Police Headquarters. And + the shortest and best route is up the hill to the left. But unfortunately, + that is where the big crowd is gathered. There are not so many if we take + the route to the right, but that is a longer way round.” + </p> + <p> + “Put the men in your cars, Chief,” said McGinnis, “and smash your way + through. They can't stop you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and kill a dozen or so,” said the Chief. + </p> + <p> + “Why not? Aren't they breaking the law?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, Mr. McGinnis,” said the Chief, “it is easy to kill men. The + trouble is they are no use to anybody after they are dead. No, we must + have no killing to-night. To-morrow we'd be sorry for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us drive up and see them,” suggested the Mayor. “Let me talk to the + boys. The boys know me.” + </p> + <p> + The Chief did not appear to be greatly in love with the suggestion of the + Mayor. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “it would do no harm to drive up and have a look at them. + We'll see how they are fixed, anyway. I think, Mr. McGinnis, you had + better remain on guard here. The Mayor and Captain Maitland will come with + me.” + </p> + <p> + Commandeering Rupert and his car, the Chief took his party at a moderate + pace up the street, at the top of which the crowd stood waiting in compact + masses. Into these masses Rupert recklessly drove his car. + </p> + <p> + “Steady there, Stillwell,” warned the Chief. “You'll hurt someone.” + </p> + <p> + “Hurt them?” said Rupert. “What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not to hurt anyone,” replied the Chief quietly. “The function + of my police force is the protection of citizens. Halt there!” + </p> + <p> + The Chief stepped out among the strikers and stood in the glare of the + headlights. + </p> + <p> + “Well, boys,” he said pleasantly, “don't you think it is time to get home? + I think you have done enough damage to-night already. I am going to give + you a chance to get away. We don't want to hurt anyone and we don't want + to have any of you down for five years or so.” + </p> + <p> + Then the Mayor spoke up. “Men, this is a most disgraceful thing. Most + deplorable. Think of the stain upon the good name of our fair city.” + </p> + <p> + Howls of derision drowned his further speech for a time. + </p> + <p> + “Now, boys,” he continued, “can't we end this thing right here? Why can't + you disperse quietly and go to your homes? What do you want here, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Scabs!” yelled a voice, followed by a savage yell from the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “Men,” said the Chief sharply, “you know me. I want this street cleared. I + shall return here in five minutes and anyone seeking to stop me will do so + at his own risk. I have a hundred men down there and this time they won't + give you the soft end of the club.” + </p> + <p> + “We want them sulphurously described scabs,” yelled a voice. “We ain't + goin' to kill them, Chief. They're lousy. We want to give 'em a bath.” And + a savage yell of laughter greeted the remark. On every hand the word was + taken up: “A bath! A bath! The river! The river!” The savage laughter of + the crowd was even more horrible than their rage. + </p> + <p> + “All right, boys. We are coming back and we are going through. Leave this + street clear or take your chances! It's up to you!” So saying, the car was + turned about and the party proceeded back to the foundry. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do, Chief?” inquired the Mayor anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “There are a lot of soldiers in that crowd,” said the Chief. “I don't like + the looks of them. They are too steady. I hate to smash through them.” + </p> + <p> + Arrived at the foundry, the Chief paced up and down, pondering his + problem. He called Maitland to his side. + </p> + <p> + “How many cars have we here, Maitland?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Some fifteen, I think. And there are five or six more parked down on the + street.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be enough,” said the Chief. “I hate the idea of smashing + through that crowd. You see, some of those boys went through hell with me + and I hate to hurt them.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not try a ruse?” suggested Maitland. “Divide your party. You take + five or six cars with constables up the hill to that crowd there. Let me + take the strikebreakers and the rest of the cars and make a dash to the + right. It's a longer way round but with the streets clear, we can arrive + at Headquarters in a very few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + The Chief considered the plan for a few minutes in silence. + </p> + <p> + “It's a good plan, Maitland,” he said at length. “It's a good plan. And + we'll put it through. I'll make the feint on the left; you run them + through on the right. I believe we can pull it off. Give me a few minutes + to engage their attention before you set out.” + </p> + <p> + Everything came off according to plan. As the Chief's detachment of cars + approached the solid mass of strikers, they slowly gave back before them. + </p> + <p> + “Clear the way there!” said the Chief. “We are going through!” + </p> + <p> + Step by step the crowd gave way, pressed by the approaching cars. + Suddenly, at a word of command, the mass opened ranks and the Chief saw + before him a barrier across the street, constructed of fencing torn from + neighbouring gardens, an upturned delivery wagon, a very ugly and very + savage-looking field harrow commandeered from a neighbouring market + garden, with wicked-looking, protruding teeth and other debris of varied + material, but all helping to produce a most effective barricade. Silently + the Chief stood for a few moments, gazing at the obstruction. A curious, + ominous growl of laughter ran through the mob. Then came a sharp word of + command: + </p> + <p> + “Unload!” + </p> + <p> + As with one movement his party of constables were on the ground and lined + up in front of their cars, with their clubs and axe handles ready for + service. Still the mob waited in ominous silence. The Chief drew his gun + and said in a loud, clear voice: + </p> + <p> + “I am going to clear away this barricade. The first man that offers to + prevent me I shall shoot on the spot.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't do that, Chief,” said a voice quietly from the rear. “There + are others, you know. Listen.” + </p> + <p> + Three shots rang out in rapid succession, and again silence fell. + </p> + <p> + Meantime from the corner of the barricade a man had been peering into the + cars. + </p> + <p> + “Boys!” he shouted. “They ain't there! There ain't no scabs.” + </p> + <p> + The Chief laughed quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Who said there were?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Sold, by thunder!” said the man. Then he yelled: “We'll get 'em yet. Come + on, boys, to the main street.” + </p> + <p> + Like a deer, he doubled down a side street, followed by the crowd, + yelling, cursing, swearing deep oaths. + </p> + <p> + “Let 'em go,” said the Chief. “Maitland's got through by this time.” As he + spoke, two shots rang out, followed by the crash of glass, and the + headlights of the first car went black. + </p> + <p> + “Just as well you didn't get through, Chief,” said the voice of the + previous speaker. “Might've got hurt, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Give it to him, Chief,” said Rupert savagely. + </p> + <p> + “No use,” said the Chief. “Let him go.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Maitland, with little or no opposition, had got his cars + through the crowd, which as a matter of fact were unaware of the identity + of the party until after they had broken through. + </p> + <p> + Their way led by a circuitous route through quiet back streets, + approaching Police Headquarters from the rear. A ten-minute run brought + them to a short side street which led past the Maitland Mills, at the + entrance to which they saw under the glare of the arc lights over the + gateway a crowd blocking their way. + </p> + <p> + “Now, what in thunder is this? Hold up a minute,” said Maitland to his + driver. “Let me take a look.” He ran forward to the main entrance. There + he found the gateway, which stood a little above the street level, blocked + by a number of his own men, some of whom he recognised as members of his + hockey team, and among them, McNish. Out in the street among the crowd + stood Simmons, standing on a barrel, lashing himself into a frenzy and + demanding blood, fire, revolution, and what not. + </p> + <p> + “McNish, you here?” said Maitland sharply. “What is it, peace or war? + Speak quick!” + </p> + <p> + “A'm haudden these fules back fra the mill,” answered McNish with a scowl. + Then, dropping into his book English, he continued bitterly: “They have + done enough to-night already. They have wrecked our cause for us!” + </p> + <p> + “You are dead right, McNish,” answered Maitland. “And what do they want + here?” + </p> + <p> + “They are some of McGinnis's men and they are mad at the way you handled + them over yonder. They are bound to get in here. They are only waiting for + the rest of the crowd. Yon eejit doesn't know what he is saying. They are + all half-drunk.” + </p> + <p> + Maitland's mind worked swiftly. “McNish, listen!” he said. “I am in a + deuce of a fix. I have the scabs in those cars there with me. The crowd + are following me up. What shall I do?” + </p> + <p> + “My God, man, you're lost. They'll tear ye tae bits.” + </p> + <p> + “McNish, listen. I'll run them into the office by the side gate down the + street. Keep them busy here. Let that fool Simmons spout all he wants. + He'll help to make a row.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes fell upon a crouching figure at his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Who is this? It's Sam, by all that's holy! Why, Sam, you are the very + chap I want. Listen, boy. Slip around to the side door and open it wide + till I bring in some cars. Then shut and bar it quick.” Carefully he + repeated his instructions. “Can you do it, Sam?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm awful scared, Captain,” replied the boy, his teeth chattering, “but + I'll try it.” + </p> + <p> + “Good boy,” said Maitland. “Don't fail me, Sam. They might kill me.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Captain. I'll do it!” And Sam disappeared, crawling under the + gate, while Maitland slipped back to his cars and passed the word among + the drivers. “Keep close up and stop for nothing!” + </p> + <p> + They had almost made the entry when some man hanging on the rear of the + crowd caught sight of them. + </p> + <p> + “Scabs! Scabs!” cried the man, dashing after the cars. But Sam was equal + to his task, and as the last car passed through the gateway he slammed and + bolted the door in their faces. + </p> + <p> + Disposing of the strike-breakers in the office, Maitland and his guard of + specials passed outside to the main gate and took their places beside + McNish and his guard. Before them the mob had become a mad, yelling, + frenzied thing, bereft of power of thought, swaying under the fury of + their passion like tree tops blown by storm, reiterating in hoarse and + broken cries the single word “Scabs! Scabs!” + </p> + <p> + “Keep them going somehow, McNish,” said Maitland. “The Chief won't be long + now.” + </p> + <p> + McNish climbed up upon the fence and, held in place there by two specials, + lifted his hand for silence. But Simmons, who all too obviously had fallen + under the spell of the bootleggers, knew too well the peril of his cause. + Shrill and savage rose his voice: + </p> + <p> + “Don't listen to 'im. 'E's a traitor, a blank and double-blank traitor. 'E + sold us (h)up, 'e 'as. Don't listen to 'im.” + </p> + <p> + Like a maniac he spat out the words from his foam-flecked lips, waving his + arms madly about his head. Relief came from an unexpected source. Sam + Wigglesworth, annoyed at Simmons's persistence and observing that McNish, + to whom as a labour leader he felt himself bound, regarded the orating and + gesticulating Simmons with disfavour, reached down and, pulling a sizable + club from beneath the bottom of a fence, took careful aim and, with the + accuracy of the baseball pitcher that he was, hurled it at the swaying + figure upon the barrel. The club caught Simmons fair in the mouth, who, + being, none too firmly set upon his pedestal, itself affording a wobbling + foothold, landed spatting and swearing in the arms of his friends below. + With the mercurial temper characteristic of a crowd, they burst into a + yell of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Go to it now, McNish!” said Maitland. + </p> + <p> + Echoing the laughter, McNish once more held up his hand. “Earth to earth, + ashes to ashes,” he said in his deepest and most solemn tone. The + phenomenal absurdity of a joke from the solemn Scotchman again tickled the + uncertain temperament of the crowd into boisterous laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Men, listen tae me!” cried McNish. “Ye mad a bad mistake the nicht. In + fact, ye're a lot of fules. And those who led ye are worse, for they have + lost us the strike, if that is any satisfaction tae ye. And now ye want to + do another fule thing. Ye're mad just because ye didn't know enough to + keep out of the wet.” + </p> + <p> + But at this point, a man fighting his way from the rear of the crowd, once + more raised the cry “Scabs!” + </p> + <p> + “Keep that fool quiet,” said McNish sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Keep quiet yourself, McNish,” replied the man, still pushing his way + toward the front. + </p> + <p> + “Heaven help us now,” said Maitland. “It's Tony, and drunk at that!” + </p> + <p> + It was indeed Tony, without hat, coat or vest. + </p> + <p> + “McNish, we want those scabs,” said Tony, in drunken gravity. + </p> + <p> + “There are nae scabs here. Haud ye're drunken tongue,” said McNish + savagely. + </p> + <p> + “McNish,” persisted Tony in a grave and perfectly courteous tone, “you're + a liar. The scabs are in that office.” A roar again swept the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “Men, listen to me,” pleaded McNish. “A'll tell ye about the scabs. They + are in the office yonder. But I have Captain Maitland's word o' honour + that they will be shipped out of town by the first train.” + </p> + <p> + A savage yell answered him. + </p> + <p> + “McNish, we'll do the shipping,” said Tony, moving still nearer the + speaker. + </p> + <p> + “Officer,” said Maitland sharply to a uniformed policeman standing by his + side, “arrest that man!” pointing to Tony. + </p> + <p> + The policeman drew his baton, took two strides forward, seized Tony by the + back of the neck and drew him in. An angry yell went up from the mob. + Maitland felt a hand upon his arm. Looking down, he saw to his horror and + dismay Annette, her face white and stricken with grief and terror. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack,” she pleaded, “don't let Tony be arrested. He broke away from + us. Let me take him. He will come with me. Oh, let me take him!” + </p> + <p> + “Rescue! Rescue!” shouted the crowd, rushing the cordon of police lining + the street. + </p> + <p> + “Kill him! Kill the traitor!” yelled Simmons, struggling through and + waving unsteadily the revolver in his hand. “Down with that tyrant, + Maitland! Kill him!” he shrieked. + </p> + <p> + He raised his arm, holding his gun with both hands. + </p> + <p> + “Look out, Jack,” shrieked Annette, flinging herself on him. + </p> + <p> + Simultaneously with the shot, a woman's scream rang out and Annette fell + back into Maitland's arms. A silence deep as death fell upon the mob. + </p> + <p> + With a groan McNish dropped from the fence beside the girl. + </p> + <p> + Annette opened her eyes and, looking up into Maitland's face, whispered: + “He didn't get you, Jack. I'm so glad.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Annette, dear girl! He's killed you!” + </p> + <p> + “It's—all—right—Jack,” she whispered. “I—saved—you.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile McNish, with her hand caught in his, was sobbing: “God, have + mercy! She's deed! She's deed!” + </p> + <p> + Annette again opened her eyes. “Poor Malcolm,” she whispered. “Dear + Malcolm.” Then, closing her eyes again, quietly as a tired child, she sank + into unconsciousness. The big Scotchman, still kissing her hand, sobbed: + </p> + <p> + “Puir lassie, puir lassie! Ma God! Ma God! What now? What now?” + </p> + <p> + “She is dead. The girl is dead.” The word passed from lip to lip among the + crowd, which still held motionless and silent. + </p> + <p> + “We'll get her into the office,” said Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “A'll tak her,” said McNish, and, stopping down, he lifted her tenderly in + his arms, stood for a moment facing the crowd, and then in a voice of + unutterable sadness that told of a broken heart, he said: “Ye've killed + her. Ye've killed the puir lassie. Are ye content?” And passed in through + the gate, holding the motionless form close to his heart. + </p> + <p> + As he passed with his pathetic burden, the men on guard at the gate bared + their heads. Immediately on every hand throughout the crowd men took off + their hats and stood silent till he had disappeared from their sight. In + the presence of that poignant grief their rage against him ceased, swept + out of their hearts by an overwhelming pity. + </p> + <p> + In one swift instant a door had opened from another and unknown world, and + through the open door a Presence, majestic, imperious, had moved in upon + them, withering with His icy breath their hot passions, smiting their + noisy clamour to guilty silence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + A GALLANT FIGHT + </h3> + <p> + In the Rectory the night was one long agony of fear and anxiety. Adrien + had taken Mrs. Egan and her babe home in a taxi as soon as circumstances + would warrant, and then, lest they should alarm their mother, they made + pretense of retiring for the night. + </p> + <p> + After seeing their mother safely bestowed, they slipped downstairs, and, + muffling the telephone, sat waiting for news, slipping out now and then to + the street, one at a time, to watch the glare of the fire in the sky and + to listen for the sounds of rioting from the town. + </p> + <p> + At length from Victor came news of the tragedy. With whitening face, + Adrien took the message. Not for nothing had she walked the wards in + France. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Victor,” she said, speaking in a quick, firm voice. “It is almost + impossible to get a nurse in time and quite impossible to get one skilled + in this sort of case. Come for me. I shall be ready and shall take charge. + Tell Dr. Meredith I am quite free.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Lose no time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what is it, Adrien?” said Patricia, wringing her hands. “Is it Jack? + Or Victor?” + </p> + <p> + Adrien caught her by the shoulders: “Patricia, I want your help. No talk! + Come with me. I will tell you as I dress.” + </p> + <p> + Swiftly, with no hurry or flurry, Adrien changed into her uniform, packed + her bag, giving Patricia meantime the story of the tragedy which she had + heard over the telephone. + </p> + <p> + “And to think it might have been Jack,” said Patricia, wringing her hands. + “Oh, dear, dear Annette. Can't I help in some way, Adrien?” + </p> + <p> + “Patricia, listen to me, child. The first thing is keep your head. You can + help me greatly. You will take charge here and later, perhaps, you can + help me in other ways. Meantime you must assume full responsibility for + them all here. Much depends on you!” + </p> + <p> + The girl stood gazing with wide-open blue eyes at her sister. Then quietly + she answered: + </p> + <p> + “I'll do my best, Adrien. There's Vic.” She rushed swiftly downstairs. + Suddenly she stopped, steadied her pace, and received him with a calm that + surprised that young man beyond measure. + </p> + <p> + “Adrien is quite ready, Vic,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Topping,” said Vic. “What a brick she is! Dr. Meredith didn't know where + to turn for a nurse. The hospital is full. Every nurse is engaged. So much + sickness, you know, in town. Ah, here she is. You are a lightning-change + artist, Adrien.” + </p> + <p> + “How is Annette, Vic? Is she still living?” asked Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” replied Vic, wondering at the change in the girl before + him. + </p> + <p> + “Darling,” said Adrien, “I will let you know at once. I hate to leave + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave me!” cried Patricia. “Nonsense, Adrien, I shall be quite all right. + Only,” she added, clasping her hands, “let me know when you can.” + </p> + <p> + When the ambulance arrived at the Maitland home, Adrien was at the door. + All was in readiness—hot water, bandages, and everything needful to + the doctor's hand. + </p> + <p> + McNish carried Annette up to the room prepared for her, laid her down and + stood in dumb grief looking down upon her. + </p> + <p> + Adrien touched him on the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” she said. And, taking his arm, led him downstairs. “Stay here,” + she said. “I will bring you word as soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + An hour later she returned, and found him sitting in the exact position in + which she had left him. He apparently had not moved hand or foot. At her + entrance he looked up, eager, voiceless. + </p> + <p> + “She is resting,” said Adrien. “The bullet is extracted. It had gone quite + through to the outer skin—a clean wound.” + </p> + <p> + “How long,” said McNish, passing his tongue over his dry lips, “how long + does the doctor say—” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor says nothing. She asked for you.” + </p> + <p> + McNish started up and went toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “But you cannot go to her now.” + </p> + <p> + “She asked for me?” said McNish. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But she must be kept quite quiet. The very least excitement might + hurt her.” + </p> + <p> + “Hurt her?” said McNish, and sat down quietly. + </p> + <p> + After a moment's silence, he said: + </p> + <p> + “You will let me see her—once more—before she—she—” + He paused, his lips quivering, his great blue eyes pitifully beseeching + her. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. McNish,” said Adrien, “she may not die.” + </p> + <p> + “Ma God!” he whispered, falling on his knees and catching her hand in both + of his. “Ma God! Dinna lee tae me.” + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, I would not,” said Adrien, while the great eyes seemed to + drag the truth from her very soul. “The doctor says nothing, but I have + seen many cases of bullet wounds, and I have hope.” + </p> + <p> + “Hope,” he whispered. “Hope! Ma God! hope!” His hands went to his face and + his great frame shook with silent sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “But you must be very quiet and steady.” + </p> + <p> + Immediately he was on his feet and standing like a soldier at attention. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, A wull,” he whispered eagerly. “Tell me what tae do?” + </p> + <p> + “First of all,” said Adrien, “we must have something to eat.” + </p> + <p> + A shudder passed through him. “Eat?” he said, as if he had never heard the + word. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Adrien. “Remember, you promised.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay. A'll eat.” Like a man under a mesmeric spell, he went through the + motions of eating. His mind was far away, his eyes eager, alert, forever + upon her face. + </p> + <p> + When they had finished their meal, Adrien said: + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mr. McNish, is there anything I can do for you?” + </p> + <p> + “A would like to send word to ma mither,” he said. “She disna ken onything—aboot—aboot + Annette—aboot Annette an' me,” a faint touch of red coming slowly up + in his grey face. + </p> + <p> + “I shall get word to her. I know the very man. I shall phone the Reverend + Murdo Matheson.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said McNish, “he is the man.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” said Adrien, placing him in an easy chair, “you must rest + there. Remember, I am keeping watch.” + </p> + <p> + With the promise that he would do his best to rest, she left him sitting + bolt upright in his chair. + </p> + <p> + Toward morning, Maitland appeared, weary and haggard. Adrien greeted him + with tender solicitude; it was almost maternal in its tone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Adrien,” said Maitland, with a great sight of relief, “you don't know + how good it is to see you here. It bucks one tremendously to feel that you + are on this job.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall get you some breakfast immediately,” she answered in a calm, + matter-of-fact voice. “You are done out. Your father has come in and has + gone to lie down. McNish is in the library.” + </p> + <p> + “And Annette?” said Maitland. He was biting his lips to keep them from + quivering. “Is she still—” + </p> + <p> + “She is resting. The maid is watching beside her. Dear Jack,” she uttered + with a quick rush of sympathy, “I know how hard this is for you. But I am + not without hope for Annette.” + </p> + <p> + A quick light leaped into his eyes. “Hope, did you say? Oh, thank the good + Lord.” His voice broke and he turned away from her. “You know,” he said, + coming back, “she gave her life for me. Oh, Adrien, think of it! She threw + herself in the way of death for me. She covered me with her own body.” He + sat down suddenly as if almost in collapse, and buried his head in his + arms, struggling for control. + </p> + <p> + Adrien went to him and put her arm round his shoulder—she might have + been his mother. “Dear Jack,” she said, “it was a wonderful thing she did. + God will surely spare her to you.” + </p> + <p> + He rose wearily from his chair and put his arms around her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Adrien,” he said, “it is good to have you here. I do need, we all + need you so.” + </p> + <p> + Gently she put his arms away from her. “And now,” she said briskly, “I am + going to take charge of you, Jack, of you all, and you must obey orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Only give me a chance to do anything for you,” he said, “or for anyone + you care for.” + </p> + <p> + There was a puzzled expression on Adrien's face as she turned away. But + she asked no explanation. + </p> + <p> + “My first order, then,” she said, “is this: you must have your breakfast + and then go to bed for an hour or two.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be glad to breakfast, but I have a lot of things to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't they wait? And won't you do them better after a good sleep?” + </p> + <p> + “Some of them can't wait,” he replied. “I have just got Tony to bed. The + doctor has sent him to sleep. His father and mother are watching him. Oh, + Adrien, that is a sad home. It was a terrible experience for me. Tony I + must see when he wakes and the poor old father and mother will be over + here early. I must be ready for them.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Jack,” said Adrien in a prompt, businesslike tone. “You have + two clear hours for sleep. You must sleep for the sake of others, you + understand. I promise to wake you in good time.” + </p> + <p> + “And what about yourself, Adrien?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, this is my job,” she said lightly. “I shall be relieved in the + afternoon, the doctor has promised.” + </p> + <p> + When the Employers' Defence Committee met next morning there were many + haggard faces among its members. In the large hall outside the committee + room a considerable number of citizens, young and old, had gathered and + with them the Mayor, conversing in voices tinged with various emotions, + anxiety, pity, wrath, according to the temper and disposition of each. + </p> + <p> + In the committee room Mr. Farrington was in the chair. No sooner had the + meeting been called to order than Mr. Maitland arose, and, speaking under + deep but controlled feeling, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, I felt sure none of us would wish to transact ordinary + business this morning. I was sure, too, that in the very distressing + circumstances under which we meet you would feel as I do the need of + guidance and help. I therefore took the liberty of inviting the deputation + from the Ministerial Association which waited on us the other day to join + us in our deliberation. Mr. Haynes is away from town, but Dr. Templeton + and Mr. Matheson have kindly consented to be present. They will be here in + half an hour's time.” + </p> + <p> + A general and hearty approval of his action was expressed, after which the + Chairman invited suggestions as to the course to be pursued. But no one + was ready with a suggestion. Somehow the outlook upon life was different + this morning, and readjustment of vision appeared to be necessary. No man + felt himself qualified to offer advice. + </p> + <p> + From this dilemma they were relieved by a knock upon the door and the + Mayor appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, “I have no wish to intrude, but a great many of our + citizens are in the larger hall. They are anxious to be advised upon the + present trying situation. It has been suggested that your committee might + join with us in a general public meeting.” + </p> + <p> + After a few moments' consideration, the Mayor's proposition was accepted + and the committee adjourned to the larger hall, Mr. Farrington resigning + the chair to His Worship, the Mayor. + </p> + <p> + The Mayor's tongue was not so ready this morning. He explained the + circumstances of the meeting and thanked the committee for yielding to his + request. He was ready to receive any suggestions as to what the next step + should be. + </p> + <p> + The silence which followed was broken by Mr. McGinnis, who arose and, in a + voice much shaken, he inquired: + </p> + <p> + “Can anyone tell us just what is the last word concerning the young girl + this morning?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maitland replied: “Before I left the house, the last report was that + she was resting quietly and, while the doctor was not able to offer any + hope of her recovery, he ventured to say that he did not quite despair. + And that from Dr. Meredith, as we know, means something.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God for that,” said McGinnis, and leaning his head upon his hand, + he sat with his eyes fixed upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + Again the Mayor asked for suggestions, but no one in the audience appeared + willing to assume the responsibility of offering guidance. + </p> + <p> + At length Rupert Stillwell arose. He apologised for speaking in the + presence of older men, but something had to be done and he ventured to + offer one suggestion at least. + </p> + <p> + “It occurs to me,” he said, “that one thing at least should be immediately + done. Those responsible for the disgraceful riot of last evening, and I + mean more than the actual ringleaders in the affair, should be brought to + justice.” He proceeded to elaborate upon the enormity of the crime, the + danger to the State of mob rule, the necessity for stern measures to + prevent the recurrence of such disorders. He suggested a special citizens' + committee for the preservation of public order. + </p> + <p> + His words appeared to meet the approval of a large number of those + present, especially of the younger men. + </p> + <p> + While he was speaking, the audience appeared to be greatly relieved to see + Dr. Templeton and the Reverend Murdo Matheson walk in and quietly take + their seats. They remembered, many of them, how at a recent similar + gathering these gentlemen had advised a procedure which, if followed, + would have undoubtedly prevented the disasters of the previous night. + </p> + <p> + Giving a brief account of the proceedings of the meeting to the present + point, the Mayor suggested that Dr. Templeton might offer them a word of + advice. + </p> + <p> + Courteously thanking the Mayor for his invitation, the Doctor said: + </p> + <p> + “As I came in this room, I caught the words of my young friend, who + suggested a committee for the preservation of public order. May I + suggested that the preservation of public order in the community is + something that can be entrusted to no committee? It rests with the whole + community. We have all made mistakes, we are constantly making mistakes. + We have yielded to passion, and always to our sorrow and hurt. We have + vainly imagined that by the exercise of force we can settle strife. No + question of right or justice is settled by fighting, for, after the + fighting is done, the matter in dispute remains to be settled. We have + tried that way and to-day we are fronted with disastrous failure. I have + come from a home over which the shadow of death hangs low. There a father + and mother lie prostrate with sorrow, agonising for the life of their + child. But a deeper shadow lies there, a shadow of sin, for the sting of + death is sin. A brother torn with self-condemnation, his heart broken with + grief for his sister, who loved him better than her own life, lies under + that shadow of sin. But, gentlemen, can any of us escape from that shadow? + Do we not all share in that sin? For we all have a part in the determining + of our environment. Can we not, by God's grace, lift that shadow at least + from our lives? Let us turn our faces from the path of strife toward the + path of peace, for the pathway of right doing and of brotherly kindness is + the only path to peace in this world.” + </p> + <p> + The Chairman then called upon the Reverend Murdo Matheson to express his + mind. But at this point, the whole audience were galvanised into an + intensity of confused emotion by the entrance of the Executive of the + Allied Unions, led by McNish himself. Simmons alone was absent, being at + that moment, with some half dozen others, in the care of the police. + Silently the Executive Committee walked to the front and found seats, + McNish alone remaining standing. Grey, gaunt, hollow-eyed, he met with + steady gaze the eyes of the audience, some of them aflame with hostile + wrath, for in him they recognised the responsible head of the labour + movement that had wrought such disaster and grief in the community. + </p> + <p> + Without apology or preface McNish began: “I am here seeking peace,” he + said, in his hoarse, hard, guttural voice. “I have made mistakes. Would I + could suffer for them alone, but no, others must suffer with me. I have + only condemnation for the outrages of last night. We repudiate them, we + lament them. We tried to prevent them, but human passion and circumstances + were too strong for us. We would undo the ill—would to God could + undo the ill. How gladly would I suffer all that has come to others.” His + deep, harsh voice shook under the stress of his emotion. He lifted his + head: “I cannot deny my cause,” he continued, his voice ringing out clear. + “Our cause was right, but the spirit was wrong.” He paused a few moments, + evidently gathering strength to hold his voice steady. “Yes, the spirit + was wrong and this day is a black day to me. We come to ask for peace. God + knows I have no heart for war.” + </p> + <p> + Again he paused, his strong stern face working strangely under the stress + of the emotions which he was fighting to subdue. “We suggest a committee + of three, with powers to arbitrate, and we name as our man one who till + recently was one of our Union, a man of fair and honest mind, a man + without fear and with a heart for his comrades. Our man is Captain + Maitland.” + </p> + <p> + His words, and especially the name of the representative of the labour + unions produced an overwhelming effect upon the audience. No sooner had he + finished than the Reverend Murdo Matheson took the floor. He spoke no + economics. He offered no elaborate argument for peace. In plain, simple + words he told of experiences through which he had recently passed: + </p> + <p> + “Like one whom I feel it an honour to call my father,” he began, bowing + toward Dr. Templeton, “I, too, have made a visit this morning. Not to a + home, but to a place the most unlike a home of any spot in this sad world, + a jail. Seven of our fellow-citizens are confined there, six of them boys, + mere boys, dazed and penetrated with sorrow for their folly—they + meant no crime—I am not relieving them of the blame—the other, + a man, embittered with a long, hard fight against poverty, injustice and + cruel circumstance in another land, with distorted views of life, crazed + by drink, committed a crime which this morning fills him with horror and + grief. Late last night I was sent to the home of one of my people. There I + found an aged lady, carrying with a brave heart the sorrows and burdens of + nearly seventy years, waiting in anxiety and grief and fear for her son, + who was keeping vigil at what may well be the deathbed of the girl he + loves. You have just heard his plea for peace. Some of you are inclined to + lay the blame for the ills that have fallen upon us upon certain classes + and individuals in this community. They have their blame and they must + bear the responsibility. But, gentlemen, a juster estimate of the causes + of these ills will convince us that they are the product of our + civilisation and for these things we must all accept our share of + responsibility. More, we must seek to remove them from among us. They are + an affront to our intelligence, an insult to our holy religion, an outrage + upon the love of our brother man and our Father, God. Let us humbly, + resolutely seek the better way, the way we have set before us this + morning, the way of right doing, of brotherly kindness and of brotherly + love which is the way of peace.” + </p> + <p> + It was a subdued company of men that listened to his appeal. In silence + they sat looking straight before them with faces grave and frowning, as is + the way with men of our race when deeply stirred. + </p> + <p> + It was a morning of dramatic surprises, but none were so startling, none + so dramatic as the speech of McGinnis that followed. + </p> + <p> + “This is a day for confessions,” he said, “and I am here to make one for + myself. I have been a fighter, too much of a fighter, all my life, and I + have often suffered for it. I suffered a heavy loss last night and to-day + I am sick of fighting. But I have found this: that you can't fight men in + this world without fighting women and children, too. God knows I have no + war with the old, grey-haired lady the Padre has just told us about. I + have no war with that broken-hearted father and mother. And I have no war + with Annette Perrotte, dear girl, God preserve her.” At this point, + McGinnis's command quite forsook him. His voice utterly broke down, while + the tears ran down his rugged fighting face. “I am done with fighting,” he + cried. “They have named Captain Maitland. We know him for a straight man + and a white man. Let me talk with Captain Jack Maitland, and let us get + together with the Padre there,” pointing to the Reverend Murdo Matheson, + “and in an hour we will settle this matter.” + </p> + <p> + In a tumult of approval the suggestion was accepted. It was considered a + perfectly fitting thing, though afterwards men spoke of it with something + of wonder, that the Mayor should have called upon the Reverend Doctor to + close the meeting with prayer, and that he should do so without making a + speech. + </p> + <p> + That same afternoon the three men met to consider the matter submitted to + them. Captain Jack Maitland laid before the committee his figures and his + charts setting forth the facts in regard to the cost of living and the + wage scale during the past five years. In less than an hour they had + agreed upon a settlement. There was to be an increase of wages in keeping + with the rise of the cost of living, with the pledge that the wage scale + should follow the curb of the cost of living should any change occur + within the year. The hours of labour were shortened from ten to nine for a + day's work, with the pledge that they should be governed by the effect of + the change upon production and general conditions. And further, that a + Committee of Reference should be appointed for each shop and craft, to + which all differences should be submitted. To this committee also were + referred the other demands by the Allied Unions. + </p> + <p> + It was a simple solution of the difficulty and upon its submission to the + public meeting called for its consideration, it was felt that the comment + of the irrepressible Victor Forsythe was not entirely unfitting: + </p> + <p> + “Of course!” said Victor, cheerfully. “It is the only thing. Why didn't + the Johnnies think of it before, or why didn't they ask me?” + </p> + <p> + The committee, however, did more than settle the dispute immediately + before them. They laid before the public meeting and obtained its approval + for the creation of a General Board of Industry, under whose guidance the + whole question of the industrial life of the community should be submitted + to intelligent study and control. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + SHALL BE GIVEN + </h3> + <p> + For one long week of seven long days and seven long nights Annette fought + out her gallant fight for life, fought and won. Throughout the week at her + side Adrien waited day and night, except for a few hours snatched for + rest, when Patricia took her place, for there was not a nurse to be had in + all that time and Patricia begged for the privilege of sharing her vigil + with her. + </p> + <p> + Every day and in the darkest days all day long, it seemed to Adrien, + McNish haunted the Maitland home—for he had abandoned all pretence + of work—his gaunt, grey face and hollow eyes imploring a word of + hope. + </p> + <p> + But it was chiefly to Jack throughout that week that Adrien's heart went + out in compassionate pity, for in his face there dwelt a misery so + complete, so voiceless that no comfort of hers appeared to be able to + bring relief. Often through those days did Annette ask to see him, but the + old doctor was relentless. There must be absolute quiet and utter absence + of all excitement. No visitors were to be permitted, especially no men + visitors. + </p> + <p> + But the day came when the ban was lifted and with smiling face, Adrien + came for Jack. + </p> + <p> + “You have been such a good boy,” she cried gaily, “that I am going to give + you a great treat. You are to come in with me.” + </p> + <p> + With face all alight Jack followed her into the sick room. + </p> + <p> + “Here he is, Annette,” cried Adrien. “Now, remember, no fussing, no + excitement, and just one quarter of an hour—or perhaps a little + longer,” she added. + </p> + <p> + For a moment or two Jack stood looking at the girl lying upon the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Annette, my dear, dear girl,” he cried in a breaking voice as he + knelt down by her side and took her hand in his. + </p> + <p> + So much reached Adrien's ears as she closed the door and passed to her + room with step weary and lifeless. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Adrien,” cried her sister, who was waiting to relieve her, “you are + like a ghost! You poor dear. You are horribly done out.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I am, Patricia,” said Adrien. “I believe I shall rest awhile.” + She lay down on the bed, her face turned toward the wall, and so remained + till Patricia went softly away, leaving her, as she thought, to sleep. + </p> + <p> + Downstairs Patricia found Victor Forsythe awaiting her. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Adrien is really used up,” she said. “She has a deathly look in her + face. Just the same look as she had that night of the hockey match. Do you + remember?” + </p> + <p> + “The night of the hockey dance? Do I remember? A ghastly night—a + horrid night—a night of unspeakable wretchedness.” + </p> + <p> + As Vic was speaking, Patricia kept her eyes steadily upon him with a + pondering, puzzled look. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Patricia? I know you want to ask me something. Is it about + that night?” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if you would really mind very much, Vic, if I asked you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the very least. I shall doubtless enjoy it after it's out. + Painless dentistry effect. Go to it, Patsy.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very serious, Vic. I always think people in books are so stupid. + They come near to the truth and then just miss getting it.” + </p> + <p> + “The truth. Ah! Go on, Pat.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Vic,” said Patricia with an air of one taking a desperate venture, + “why did you not give Adrien her note that night? It would have saved her + and me such pain. I cried all night long. I had so counted on a dance with + Jack—and then never a word from him. But he did send a note. He told + me so. I never told Adrien that, for she forbade me, oh, so terribly, + never to speak of it again. Why didn't you give her or me the note, Vic?” + Patricia's voice was very pathetic and her eyes very gentle but very + piercing. + </p> + <p> + All the laughter died out of Victor's face. “Pat, I lied to you once, only + once, and that lie has cost me many an hour's misery. But now I shall tell + you the truth and the whole truth.” And he proceeded to recount the + tribulations which he endured on the night of the hockey dance. “I did it + to help you both out, Pat. I thought I could make it easy for you. It was + all a sheer guess, but it turned out to be pretty well right.” + </p> + <p> + Patricia nodded her head. “But you received no note?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a scrap, Patricia, so help me. Not a scrap. Patricia, you believe + me?” + </p> + <p> + The girl looked straight into Vic's honest eyes. “Yes, Vic,” she said, “I + believe you. But Jack sent a note.” + </p> + <p> + Vic sprang to his feet. “Good-bye, Watson. You shall hear from me within + an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever do you mean? Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear lady, ask no questions. I am about to Sherlock. Farewell.” + </p> + <p> + At the door he overtook Jack. “Aha! The first link in the chain. Hello, + old chap, a word with you. May I get into your car?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. Get in.” + </p> + <p> + “Now then, about that note. Nothing like diplomacy. The night of the + hockey dance you sent a note to a lady?” + </p> + <p> + Jack glanced at him in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be an ass, Vic. I don't feel like that stuff just now.” + </p> + <p> + “This is serious. Did you send a note by me that night of the hockey + dance?” + </p> + <p> + “By you? No. Who said I did?” + </p> + <p> + “Aha! The mystery deepens. By whom? Nothing like finesse.” + </p> + <p> + “It is none of your business,” said Jack crossly. + </p> + <p> + “Check,” cried Vic. + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about, anyway?” inquired Jack. + </p> + <p> + “A note was sent by you,” said Vic impressively, “through some agency at + present unknown. So far, so good.” + </p> + <p> + “Unknown? What rubbish. I sent a note by Sam Wigglesworth, who gave it to + some of you for Adrien. What about it?” + </p> + <p> + As they approached the entrance to the Maitland Mills Vic saw a stream of + employees issue from the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more at present,” he said. “This is my corner. Let me out. I am + in an awful hurry, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me, please, what all this means?” said Jack angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, old chap. Awfully hurried just now. See you later.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a vast idiot,” grumbled Jack, as Vic ran down the street. + </p> + <p> + He took his place at the corner which commanded the entrance to the + Maitland works. “Here I shall wait, abstractedly gazing at the passers-by, + until the unhappy Sam makes his appearance,” mused Vic to himself. “And by + the powers, here Sam is now.” + </p> + <p> + From among the employees as they poured from the gate Victor pounced upon + his victim and bore him away down a side street. + </p> + <p> + “Sam,” he said, “it may be you are about to die, so tell me the truth. I + hate to take your young life.” Sam grinned at his captor, unafraid. “Cast + your mind back to the occasion of the hockey dance. You remember that?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet I do, Mister. I made a dollar that night.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! A dollar. Yes, you did, for delivering a note given you by Captain + Jack Maitland,” hissed Vic, gripping his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Huh-huh,” said Sam. “Look out, Mister, that's me.” + </p> + <p> + “Villain!” cried Vic. “Boy, I mean. Now, Sam, did you deliver that note?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I did. Didn't Captain Jack give me a dollar for it? I didn't + want his dollar.” + </p> + <p> + “The last question, Sam,” said Vic solemnly, “to whom did you deliver the + note?” + </p> + <p> + “To that chap, the son of the storekeeper.” + </p> + <p> + “Rupert Stillwell?” suggested Vic. + </p> + <p> + “Huh-huh, that's his name. That's him now,” cried Sam. “In that Hudson car—see—there—quick!” + </p> + <p> + “Boy,” said Vic solemnly, “you have saved your life. Here's a dollar. Now, + remember, not a word about this.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir,” grinned Sam delightedly, as he made off down the street. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, what?” said Vic to himself. “This thing has got past the joke + stage. I must do some thinking. Shall I tell Pat or not? By Jove, by Jove, + that's not the question. When that young lady gets those big eyes of hers + on me the truth will flow in a limpid stream. I must make sure of my + ground. Meantime I shall do the Kamerad act.” + </p> + <p> + That afternoon Annette had another visitor. Her nurse, though somewhat + dubious as to the wisdom of this indulgence, could not bring herself to + refuse her request that McNish should be allowed to see her. + </p> + <p> + “But you must be tired. Didn't Jack tire you?” inquired Adrien. + </p> + <p> + A soft and tender light stole into the girl's dark eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Jack. He could not tire me,” she murmured. “He makes so much of what + I did. How gladly would I do it again. Jack is wonderful to me. Wonderful + to me,” she repeated softly. Her lip trembled and she lay back upon her + pillow and from her closed eyes two tears ran down her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Adrien briskly, “you are too tired. We shall wait till + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, please,” cried Annette. “Jack didn't tire me. He comforts me.” + </p> + <p> + “But Malcolm will tire you,” said Adrien. “Do you really want to see him?” + </p> + <p> + A faint colour came up into the beautiful face of her patient. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Adrien, I really want to see him. I am sure he will do me good. You + will let him come, please?” The dark eyes were shining with another light, + more wistful, more tender. + </p> + <p> + “Is he here, Adrien?” + </p> + <p> + “Is he here?” echoed Adrien scornfully. “Has he been anywhere else the + last seven days?” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Malcolm,” said the girl, the tenderness in her voice becoming + protective. “I have been very bad to him, and he loves me so. Oh, he is + just mad about me!” A little smile stole round the corners of her mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you needn't tell me that, Annette,” said Adrien. “It is easy for you + to make men mad about you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not many,” said the girl, still softly smiling. + </p> + <p> + McNish went toward the door of the sick room as if approaching a holy + shrine, walking softly and reverently. + </p> + <p> + “Go in, lucky man,” said Adrien. “Go in, and thank God for your good + fortune.” + </p> + <p> + He paused at the door, turned about and looked at her with grave eyes. + “Miss Templeton,” he said in slow, reverent tones, “all my life shall I + thank God for His great mercy tae me.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't keep her waiting, man,” said Adrien, waving him in. Then McNish + went in and she closed the door softly upon them. + </p> + <p> + “There are only a few great moments given to men,” she said, “and this is + one of them for those two happy people.” + </p> + <p> + In ten days Annette was pronounced quite fit to return to her family. But + Patricia resolved that they should have a grand fete in the Maitland home + before Annette should leave it. She planned a motor drive in the cool of + the day, and in the evening all their special friends who had been brought + together through the tragic events of the past weeks should come to bring + congratulations and mutual felicitations for the recovery of the patient. + </p> + <p> + Patricia was arranging the guest list, in collaboration with Mr. Maitland + and the assistance of Annette and Victor. + </p> + <p> + “We will have our boys, of course,” she began. + </p> + <p> + “Old and young, I hope?” suggested Mr. Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “Of course!” she cried. “Although I don't know any old ones. That will + mean all the fathers and Vic, Jack, Hugh and Rupert, and Malcolm—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! It has come to Malcolm, then?” murmured Vic. “Certainly, why not? He + loves me to call him Malcolm. And then we will have Mr. Matheson. And we + must have Mr. McGinnis—they have become such great friends. And I + should like to have the Mayor, he is so funny. But perhaps he wouldn't + fit. He DOES take up a lot of attention.” + </p> + <p> + “Cut him out!” said Victor with decision. + </p> + <p> + “And for ladies,” continued Patricia, “just the relatives—all the + mothers and the sisters. That's enough.” + </p> + <p> + “How lovely!” murmured Vic. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you want any other ladies, Vic,” said Patricia severely, “we shall + be delighted to invite them for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Me? Other ladies? What could I do with other ladies? Is not my young life + one long problem as it is? Ah! Speaking of problems, that reminds me. I + have a communication to make to you young lady.” Vic's manner suggested a + profound and deadly mystery. He led Patricia away from the others. “I have + something to tell you, Patricia,” he said, abandoning all badinage. “I + hate to do it but it is right for you, for myself, for Adrien, and by Jove + for poor old Jack, too. Though, perhaps—well, let that go.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Vic!” cried Patricia. “It is about the note!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Patricia. That note was given by Jack to Sam Wigglesworth, who gave + it to Rupert Stillwell.” + </p> + <p> + “And he forgot?” gasped Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—ah—at least, he didn't deliver it. No, Patricia, we are + telling the whole truth. He didn't forget. You remember he asked about + Jack. There, I have given you all I know. Make of it what you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I tell Adrien?” asked Patricia. + </p> + <p> + “I think certainly Adrien ought to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll tell her to-night,” said Patricia. “I want it all over before + our fete, which is day after to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Rupert Stillwell had been in almost daily attendance upon Adrien during + the past two weeks, calling for her almost every afternoon with his car. + The day following he came for her according to his custom. Upon Adrien's + face there dwelt a gentle, tender, happy look as if her heart were singing + for very joy. That look upon her face drove from Rupert all the hesitation + and fear which had fallen upon him during these days of her ministry to + the wounded girl. He took a sudden and desperate resolve that he would put + his fate to the test. + </p> + <p> + Adrien's answer was short and decisive. + </p> + <p> + “No, Rupert,” she said. “I cannot. I thought for a little while, long ago, + that perhaps I might, but now I know that I never could have loved you.” + </p> + <p> + “You were thinking of that note of Jack Maitland's which I sent you last + night?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” she said gently. “Not that.” + </p> + <p> + “I felt awfully mean about that, Adrien. I feel mean still. I thought that + as you had learned all about it from Victor, it was of no importance.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied gently, “but I was the best judge of that.” + </p> + <p> + “Adrien, tell me,” Rupert's voice shook with the intensity of his passion, + “is there no hope?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, “there is no hope, Rupert.” + </p> + <p> + “There is someone else,” he said, savagely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, happily, “I think so.” + </p> + <p> + “Someone,” continued Rupert, his voice trembling with rage, “someone who + distributes his affections.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, a happy smile in her eyes, “I think not.” + </p> + <p> + “You love him?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” she whispered, with a little catch in her breath, “I love him.” + </p> + <p> + At the door on their return Jack met them. A shadow fell upon his face, + but with a quick resolve, he shouted a loud welcome to them. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Adrien,” he cried, as she came running up the steps. “You + apparently have had a lovely drive.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, wonderful, Jack. A wonderful drive,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you do look happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, so happy. I was never so happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Jack, dropping his voice, “may I congratulate you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think so,” she said. “I hope so.” And then laughed aloud for very + glee. + </p> + <p> + Jack turned from her with a quick sharp movement, went down the steps and + offering his hand to Rupert, said: + </p> + <p> + “Good luck, old chap. I wish you good luck.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? What? Oh, all right,” said Rupert in a dazed sort of way. But he + didn't come into the house. + </p> + <p> + Never was there such a day in June, never such a fete. The park never + looked so lovely and never a party so gay disported themselves in it and + gayest of them all was Adrien. All day long it seemed as if her very soul + were laughing for joy. And all day long she kept close beside Jack, + chaffing him, laughing at him, rallying him on his solemn face and driving + him half-mad with her gay witchery. + </p> + <p> + Then home they all came to supper, where waited them McNish and his mother + with Mr. McGinnis, for they had been unable to join in the motor drive. + </p> + <p> + “Ma certie, lassie! But ye're a sight for sare een. What hae ye bin daein + tae her, Mr. Jack,” said Mrs. McNish, as she welcomed them at the door. + </p> + <p> + “The Lord only knows,” said Jack. + </p> + <p> + “But, man, look at her!” exclaimed the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “I have been, all day long,” replied Jack with a gallant attempt at + gaiety. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mrs. McNish,” cried the girl, rippling with joyous laughter, “he + won't even look at me. He just—what do you say—glowers, that's + it—glowers at me. And we have had such a wonderful day. Come, Jack, + get yourself ready for supper. You have only a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + She caught her arm through his and laughing shamelessly into his eyes, + drew him away. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Adrien,” said Jack, driven finally to desperation and drawing her + into the quiet of the library, “I am awfully glad you are so happy and all + that, but I don't see the necessity of rubbing it into a fellow. You know + how I feel. I am glad for you and—I am glad for Rupert. Or, at least + I told him so.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Jack,” said the girl, her eyes burning with a deep inner glow, + “Rupert has nothing to do with it. Rupert, indeed,” and she laughed + scornfully. “Oh, Jack, why can't you see?” + </p> + <p> + “See what?” he said crossly. + </p> + <p> + “Jack,” she said softly, turning toward him and standing very near him, + “you remember the note you sent me?” + </p> + <p> + “Note?” + </p> + <p> + “The note you sent the night of the hockey dance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Jack bitterly, “I remember.” + </p> + <p> + “And you remember, too, how horrid I was to you the next time I saw you? + How horrid? Oh, Jack, it broke my heart.” Her voice faltered a moment and + her shining eyes grew dim. “I was so horrid to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said Jack coolly, “you were kind. You were very kind and + sisterly, as I remember.” + </p> + <p> + “Jack,” she said and her breath began to come hurriedly, “I got that note + yesterday. Only yesterday, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, only yesterday. And I read it, Jack,” she added with a happy laugh. + “And in that note, Jack, you said—do you remember—” + </p> + <p> + But Jack stood gazing stupidly at her. She pulled the note from her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack, you said—” + </p> + <p> + Still Jack gazed at her. + </p> + <p> + “Jack, you will kill me. Won't you hurry? Oh, I can't wait a moment + longer. You said you were going to tell me something, Jack.” She stood + radiant, breathless and madly alluring. “And oh, Jack, won't you tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “Adrien,” said Jack, his voice husky and uncontrolled. “Do you mean that + you—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack, tell me quick,” she said, swaying toward him. And while she + clung to him taking his kisses on her lips, Jack told her. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of To Him That Hath, by Ralph Connor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO HIM THAT HATH *** + +***** This file should be named 3244-h.htm or 3244-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/3244/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: To Him That Hath + A Novel Of The West Of Today + +Author: Ralph Connor + +Release Date: June 3, 2006 [EBook #3244] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO HIM THAT HATH *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +TO HIM THAT HATH + +A NOVEL OF THE WEST OF TODAY + + +By Ralph Connor + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + +I THE GAME + +II THE COST OF SACRIFICE + +III THE HEATHEN QUEST + +IV ANNETTE + +V THE RECTORY + +VI THE GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE + +VII THE FOREMAN + +VIII FREE SPEECH + +IX THE DAY BEFORE + +X THE NIGHT OF VICTORY + +XI THE NEW MANAGER + +XII LIGHT THAT IS DARKNESS + +XIII THE STRIKE + +XIV GATHERING CLOUDS + +XV THE STORM + +XVI A GALLANT FIGHT + +XVII SHALL BE GIVEN + + + + +TO HIM THAT HATH + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE GAME + + +"Forty-Love." + +"Game! and Set. Six to two." + +A ripple of cheers ran round the court, followed by a buzz of excited +conversation. + +The young men smiled at each other and at their friends on the side +lines and proceeded to change courts for the next set, pausing for +refreshments on the way. + +"Much too lazy, Captain Jack. I am quite out of patience with you," +cried a young girl whose brown eyes were dancing with mock indignation. + +Captain Jack turned with a slightly bored look on his thin dark face. + +"Too lazy, Frances?" drawled he. "I believe you. But think of the +temperature." + +"You have humiliated me dreadfully," she said severely. + +"Humiliated you? You shock me. But how, pray?" Captain Jack's eyes +opened wide. + +"You, a Canadian, and our best player--at least, you used to be--to +allow yourself to be beaten by a--a--" she glanced at his opponent with +a defiant smile--"a foreigner." + +"Oh! I say, Miss Frances," exclaimed that young man. + +"A foreigner?" exclaimed Captain Jack. "Better not let Adrien hear you." +He turned toward a tall fair girl standing near. + +"What's that?" said the girl. "Did I hear aright?" + +"Well, he's not a Canadian, I mean," said Frances, sticking to her guns. +"Besides, I can't stand Adrien crowing over me. She is already far too +English, don-che-know. You have given her one more occasion for triumph +over us Colonials." + +"Ah, this is serious," said Captain Jack. "But really it is too hot you +know for--what shall I say?--International complications." + +"Jack, you are plain lazy," said Frances. "You know you are. You don't +deserve to win, but if you really would put your back into it--" + +"Oh, come, Frances. Why! You don't know that my cousin played for his +College at Oxford. And that is saying something," said Adrien. + +"There you are, Jack! That's the sort of thing I have to live with," +said Frances. "She thinks that settles everything." + +"Well, doesn't it rather?" smiled Adrien. + +"Oh, Jack, if you have any regard for your country, not to say my +unworthy self, won't you humble her?" implored Frances. "If you would +only buck up!" + +"He will need to, eh, Adrien?" said a young fellow standing near, slowly +sipping his drink. + +"I think so. Indeed, I am quite sure of it," coolly replied the girl +addressed. "But I really think it is quite useless." + +"Ha! Ha! Cheer up, Jack," laughed the young man, Stillwell by name. + +"Really, old chap, I feel I must beat you this set," said Captain Jack +to the young Englishman. "My country's credit as well as my own is at +stake, you see." + +"Both are fairly assured, I should say," said the Englishman. + +"Not to-day," said Stillwell, with a suspicion of a polite sneer in his +voice. "My money says so." + +"Canada vs. the Old Country!" cried a voice from the company. + +"Now, Jack, Jack, remember," implored Frances. + +"You have no mercy, Miss Frances, I see," said the Englishman, looking +straight into her eyes. + +"Absolutely none," she replied, smiling saucily at him. + +"Vae victis, eh, old chap?" said Sidney, as they sauntered off together +to their respective courts. "By the way, who is that Stillwell chap?" he +asked in a low voice of Captain Jack as they moved away from the others. +"Of any particular importance?" + +"I think you've got him all right," replied Jack carelessly. The +Englishman nodded. + +"He somehow gets my goat," said Jack. The Englishman looked mystified. + +"Rubs me the wrong way, you know." + +"Oh, very good, very good. I must remember that." + +"He rather fancies his own game, too," said Jack, "and he has come +on the last year or two. In more ways than one," he added as an +afterthought. + +As they faced each other on the court it was Stillwell's voice that rang +out: + +"Now then, England!" + +"Canada!" cried a girl's voice that was easily recognised as that of +Frances Amory. + +"Thumbs down, eh, Maitland?" said the Englishman, waving a hand toward +his charming enemy. + +Whatever the cause, whether from the spur supplied by the young lady who +had constituted herself his champion or from the sting from the man +for whom for reasons sufficient for himself he had only feelings of +hostility and dislike, the game put up by Captain Jack was of quite a +different brand from that he had previously furnished. From the +first service he took the offensive and throughout played brilliant, +aggressive, even smashing tennis, so much so that his opponent appeared +to be almost outclassed and at the close the figures of the first set +were exactly reversed, standing six to two in Captain Jack's favour. + +The warmth of the cheers that followed attested the popularity of the +win. + +"My word, old chap, that is top-hole tennis," said the Englishman, +warmly congratulating him. + +"Luck, old boy, brilliant luck!" said Captain Jack. "Couldn't do it +again for a bet." + +"You must do it just once more," said Frances, coming to meet the +players. "Oh, you dear old thing. Come and be refreshed. Here is the +longest, coolest thing in drinks this Club affords. And one for you, +too," she added, turning to the Englishman. "You played a great game." + +"Did I not? I was at the top of my form," said the Englishman gallantly. +"But all in vain, as you see." + +"Now for the final," cried Frances eagerly. + +"Dear lady," said Captain Jack, affecting supreme exhaustion, "as you +are mighty, be merciful! Let it suffice that we appear to have given you +an exposition of fairly respectable tennis. I am quite done." + +"A great win, Jack," said Adrien, offering her hand in congratulation. + +"All flukes count, eh, Maitland?" laughed Stillwell, unable in spite of +his laugh to keep the bite out of his voice. + +"Fluke?" exclaimed the Englishman in a slow drawling voice. "I call it +ripping good tennis, if I am a judge." + +A murmur of approval ran through the company, crowding about with +congratulations to both players. + +"Oh, of course, of course," said Stillwell, noting the criticism of +his unsportsmanlike remark. "What I mean is, Maitland is clearly out +of condition. If he were not I wouldn't mind taking him on myself," he +added with another laugh. + +"Now, do you mean?" said Captain Jack lazily. + +"We will wait till the match is played out," said Stillwell with easy +confidence. "Some other day, when you are in shape, eh?" he added, +smiling at Maitland. + +"Now if you like, or after the match, or any old time," said Captain +Jack, looking at Stillwell with hard grey, unsmiling eyes. "I understand +you have come up on your game during the war." + +Stillwell's face burned a furious red at the little laugh that went +round among Captain Jack's friends. + +"Frankly, I have had enough for to-day," said the Englishman to Jack. + +"All right, old chap, if you don't really mind. Though I feel you would +certainly take the odd set." + +"Not a bit of it, by Jove. I am quite satisfied to let it go at that. We +will have another go some time." + +"Any time that suits you--to-morrow, eh?" + +"To-morrow be it," said the Englishman. + +"Now, then, Stillwell," said Captain Jack, with a curt nod at him. +"Whenever you are ready." + +"Oh, come, Maitland. I was only joshing, you know. You don't want +to play with me to-day," said Stillwell, not relishing the look on +Maitland's face. "We can have a set any time." + +"No!" said Maitland shortly. "It's now or never." + +"Oh, all right," said Stillwell, with an uneasy laugh, going into the +Club house for his racquet. + +The proposed match had brought a new atmosphere into the Club house, an +atmosphere of contest with all the fun left out. + +"I don't like this at all," said a man with iron grey hair and deeply +tanned face. + +"One can't well object, Russell," said a younger man, evidently a friend +of Stillwell's. "Maitland brought it on, and I hope he gets mighty well +trimmed. He is altogether too high and mighty these days." + +"Oh, I don't agree with you at all," broke in Frances, in a voice coldly +proper. "You heard what Mr. Stillwell said?" + +"Well, not exactly." + +"Ah, I might have guessed you had not," answered the young lady, turning +away. + +Edwards looked foolishly round upon the circle of men who stood grinning +at him. + +"Now will you be good?" said a youngster who had led the laugh at +Edwards' expense. + +"What the devil are you laughing at, Menzies?" he asked hotly. + +"Why, don't you see the joke?" enquired Menzies innocently. "Well, carry +on! You will to-morrow." + +Edwards growled out an oath and took himself off. + +Meantime the match was making furious progress, with the fury, it must +be confessed, confined to one side only of the net. Captain Jack was +playing a driving, ruthless game, snatching and employing without mercy +every advantage that he could legitimately claim. He delivered his +service with deadly precision, following up at the net with a smashing +return, which left his opponent helpless. His aggressive tactics gave +his opponent almost no opportunity to score, and he kept the pace +going at the height of his speed. The onlookers were divided in their +sentiments. Stillwell had a strong following of his own who expressed +their feelings by their silence at Jack's brilliant strokes and their +loud approval of Stillwell's good work when he gave them opportunity, +while many of Maitland's friends deprecated his tactics and more +especially his spirit. + +At whirlwind pace Captain Jack made the first three games a "love" +score, leaving his opponent dazed, bewildered with his smashing play and +blind with rage at his contemptuous bearing. + +"I think I must go home, Frances," said Adrien to her friend, her face +pale, her head carried high. + +Frances seized her by the arm and drew her to one side. + +"Adrien, you must not go! You simply must not!" she said in a low tense +voice. "It will be misunderstood, and--" + +"I am going, Frances," said her friend in a cold, clear voice. "I have +had enough tennis for this afternoon. Where is Sidney? Ah, there he is +across the court. No! Let me go, Frances!" + +"You simply must not go like that in the middle of a game, Adrien. Wait +at least till this game is over," said her friend, clutching hard at her +arm. + +"Very well. Let us go to Sidney," said Adrien. + +Together they made their way round the court almost wholly unobserved, +so intent was the crowd upon the struggle going on before them. As the +game finished Adrien laid her hand upon her cousin's arm. + +"Haven't you had enough of this?" she said. Her voice carried clear +across the court. + +"What d'ye say? By Jove, no!" said her cousin in a joyous voice. "This +is the most cheering thing I've seen for many moons, Adrien. Eh, +what? Oh, I beg pardon, are you seedy?" he added glancing at her. "Oh, +certainly, I'll come at once." + +"Not at all. Don't think of it. I have a call to make on my way home. +Please don't come." + +"But, Adrien, I say, this will be over now in a few minutes. Can't you +really wait?" + +"No, I am not in the least interested in this--this kind of tennis," she +said in a bored voice. + +Her tone, pitched rather higher than usual, carried to the ears of the +players who were changing ends at the moment. Both of the men glanced at +her. Stillwell's face showed swift gratitude. On Jack's face the shadow +darkened but except for a slight straightening of the line of his lips +he gave no sign. + +"You are quite sure you don't care?" said Sidney. "You don't want me? +This really is great, you know." + +"Not for worlds would I drag you away," said Adrien in a cool, clear +voice. "Frances will keep you company." She turned to her friend. "Look +after him, Frances," she said. "Good-bye. Dinner at seven to-night, you +know." + +"Right-o!" said Sidney, raising his hat in farewell. "By Jove, I +wouldn't miss this for millions," he continued, making room for Frances +beside him. "Your young friend is really somewhat violent in his style, +eh, what?" + +"There are times when violence is the only possible thing," replied +Frances grimly. + +"By the way, who is the victim? I mean, what is he exactly?" + +"Mr. Stillwell? Oh, he is the son of his father, the biggest merchant in +Blackwater. Oh, lovely! Beautiful return! Jack is simply away above his +form! And something of a merchant and financier on his own account, to +be quite fair. Making money fast and using it wisely. But I'm not going +to talk about him. You see a lot of him about the Rectory, don't you?" + +"Well, something," replied Sidney. "I can't quite understand the +situation, I confess. To be quite frank, I don't cotton much to him. A +bit sweetish, eh, what?" + +"Yes, at the Rectory doubtless. I would hardly attribute to him a sweet +disposition. Oh, quit talking about him. He had flat feet in the war, I +think it was. Jack's twin brother was killed, you know--and mine--well, +you know how mine is." + +A swift vision of a bright-faced, cheery-voiced soldier, feeling his way +around a darkened room in the Amory home, leaped to Sidney's mind and +overwhelmed him with pity and self-reproach. + +"Dear Miss Frances, will you forgive me? I hadn't quite got on to the +thing. I understand the game better now." + +"Now, I don't want to poison your mind. I shouldn't have said +that--about the flat feet, I mean. He goes to the Rectory, you know. I +want to be fair--" + +"Please don't worry. We know all about that sort at home," said Sidney, +touching her hand for a moment. "My word, that was a hot one! The +flat-footed Johnnie is obviously bewildered. The last game was sheer +massacre, eh, what?" + +If Maitland was not in form there was no sign of it in his work on the +court. There was little of courtesy, less of fun and nothing at all of +mercy in his play. From first to last and without reprieve he drove +his game ruthlessly to a finish. So terrific, so resistless were his +attacks, so coldly relentless the spirit he showed, ignoring utterly all +attempts at friendly exchange of courtesy, that the unhappy and enraged +Stillwell, becoming utterly demoralized, lost his nerve, lost his +control and hopelessly lost every chance he ever possessed of winning a +single game of the set which closed with the score six to nothing. + +At the conclusion of the set Stillwell, with no pretense of explanation +or apology, left the courts to his enemy who stood waiting his +appearance in a silence so oppressive that it seemed to rest like a +pall upon the side lines. So overwhelming was Stillwell's defeat, so +humiliating his exhibition of total collapse of morale that the company +received the result with but slight manifestation of feeling. Without +any show of sympathy even his friends slipped away, as if unwilling to +add to his humiliation by their commiseration. On the other side, the +congratulations offered Maitland were for the most part lacking in the +spontaneity that is supposed to be proper to such a smashing victory. +Some of his friends seemed to feel as if they had been called upon to +witness an unworthy thing. Not so, however, with either Frances Amory or +Sidney Templeton. Both greeted Captain Jack with enthusiasm and warmth, +openly and freely rejoicing in his victory. + +"By Jove, Maitland, that was tremendous, appalling, eh, what?" + +"I meant it to be so," said Maitland grimly, "else I should not have +played with him." + +"It was coming to him," said Frances. "I am simply completely +delighted." + +"Can I give you a lift home, Frances?" said Maitland. "Let us get away. +You, too, Templeton," he added to Sidney, who was lingering near the +young lady in obvious unwillingness to leave her side. + +"Oh, thanks! Sure you have room?" he said. "All right. You know my +cousin left me in your care." + +"Oh, indeed! Well, come along then, since our hero is so good. Really, I +am uplifted to quite an unusual height of glorious exultation." + +"Don't rub it in, Frank," said Jack gloomily. "I made an ass of myself, +I know quite well." + +"What rot, Jack. Every one of your friends was tickled to death." + +"Adrien, for instance, eh?" said Jack with a bitter little laugh, taking +his place at the wheel. + +"Oh, Adrien!" replied Frances. "Well, you know Adrien! She is--just +Adrien." + +As he turned into the street there was a sound of rushing feet. + +"Hello, Captain Jack! Oh, Captain Jack! Wait for me! You have room, +haven't you?" + +A whirlwind of flashing legs and windblown masses of gold-red hair, +which realised itself into a young girl of about sixteen, bore down on +the car. It was Adrien's younger sister, Patricia, and at once her pride +and her terror. + +"Why, Patsy, where on earth did you come from? Of course! Get in! Glad +to have you, old chap." + +"Oh, Captain Jack, what a game! What a wonderful game! And Rupert has +been playing all summer and awfully well! And you have hardly played a +game! I was awfully pleased--" + +"Were you? I'm not sure that I was," replied Captain Jack. + +"Well, you WERE savage, you know. You looked as if you were in a fight." + +"Did I? That was very rotten of me, wasn't it?" + +"Oh, I don't know exactly. But it was a wonderful game. Of course, one +doesn't play tennis like a fight, I suppose." + +"No! You are quite right, Pat," replied Captain Jack. "You see, I'm +afraid I lost my temper a bit, which is horribly bad form I know, +and--well, I wanted to fight rather than play, and of course one +couldn't fight on the tennis court in the presence of a lot of ladies, +you see." + +"Well, I'm glad you didn't fight, Captain Jack. You have had enough of +fighting, haven't you? And Rupert is really very nice, you know. He has +a wonderful car and he lets me drive it, and he always brings a box of +chocolates every time he comes." + +"He must be perfectly lovely," said Captain Jack, with a grin at her. + +The girl laughed a laugh of such infectious jollity that Captain Jack +was forced to join with her. + +"That's one for you, Captain Jack," she cried. "I know I am a pig where +chocs are concerned, and I do love to drive a car. But, really, Rupert +is quite nice. He is so funny. He makes Mamma laugh. Though he does +tease me a lot." + +Captain Jack drove on in silence for some moments. + +"I was glad to see you playing though to-day, Captain Jack." + +"Where were you? I didn't see you anywhere." + +"Not likely!" She glanced behind her at the others in the back seat. She +need not have given them a thought, they were too deeply engrossed to +heed her. "Do you know where I was? In the crutch of the big elm--you +know!" + +"Don't I!" said Captain Jack. "A splendid seat, but--" + +"Wouldn't Adrien be shocked?" said the girl, with a deliciously +mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Or, at least, she would pretend to be. +Adrien thinks she must train me down a bit, you know. She says I have +most awful manners. She wants Mamma to send me over to England to her +school. But I don't want to go, you bet. Besides, I don't think Dad can +afford it so they can't send me. Anyway, I could have good manners if +I wanted to. I could act just like Adrien if I wanted to--I mean, for a +while. But that was a real game. I felt sorry for Rupert, a little. You +see, he didn't seem to know what to do or how to begin. And you looked +so terrible! Now in the game with Cousin Sidney you were so different, +and you played so awfully well, too, but differently. Somehow, it was +just like gentlemen playing, you know--" + +"You have hit it, Patsy,--a regular bull!" said Captain Jack. + +"Oh, I don't mean--" began the girl in confusion, rare with her. + +"Yes, you do, Pat. Stick to your guns." + +"Well, I will. The first game everybody loved to watch. The second +game--somehow it made me wish Rupert had been a Hun. I'd have loved it +then." + +"By Jove, Patsy, you're right on the target. You've scored again." + +"Oh, I'm not saying just what I want--but I hope you know what I mean." + +"Your meaning hits me right in the eye. And you are quite right. +The tennis court is no place for a fight, eh? And, after all, Rupert +Stillwell is no Hun." + +"But you haven't been playing this summer at all, Captain Jack," said +the girl, changing the subject. "Why not?" The girl's tone was quite +severe. "And you don't do a lot of things you used to do, and you don't +go to places, and you are different." The blue eyes earnestly searched +his face. + +"Am I different?" he asked slowly. "Well, everybody is different. And +then, you know, I am busy. A business man has his hours and he must +stick to them." + +"Oh, I don't believe you a bit. You don't need to be down at the mills +all the time. Look at Rupert. He doesn't need to be at his father's +office." + +"Apparently not." + +"He gets off whenever he wants to." + +"Looks like it." + +"And why can't you?" + +"Well, you see, I am not Rupert," said Captain Jack, grinning at her. + +"Now you are horrible. Why don't you do as you used to do? You know you +could if you wanted to." + +"Yes, I suppose, if I wanted to," said Captain Jack, suddenly grave. + +"You don't want to," said the girl, quick to catch his mood. + +"Well, you know, Patsy dear, things are different, and I suppose I am +too. I don't care much for a lot of things." + +"You just look as if you didn't care for anything or anybody sometimes, +Captain Jack," said Patricia quietly. Then after a few moments she burst +forth: "Oh, don't you remember your hockey team? Oh! oh! oh! I used to +sit and just hold my heart from jumping. It nearly used to choke me when +you would tear down the ice with the puck." + +"That was long ago, Pat dear. I guess I was--ah--very young then, eh?" + +"Yes, I know," nodded the girl. "I feel the same way--I was just a kid +then." + +"Ah, yes," said Captain Jack, with never a smile. "You were just--let's +see--twelve, was it?" + +"Yes, twelve. And I felt just a kid." + +"And now?" Captain Jack's voice was quite grave. + +"Now? Well, I am not exactly a kid. At least, not the same kind of kid. +And, as you say, a lot of things are different. I think I know how you +feel. I was like that, too--after--after--Herbert--" The girl paused, +with her lips quivering. "It was all different--so different. Everything +we used to do, I didn't feel like doing. And I suppose that's the way +with you, Captain Jack, with Andy--and then your Mother, too." She +leaned close to him and put her hand timidly on his arm. + +Captain Jack, sitting up very straight and looking very grave, felt the +thrill of the timid touch run through his very heart. A rush of warm, +tender emotion such as he had not allowed himself for many months +suddenly surprised him, filling his eyes and choking his throat. Since +his return from the war he had without knowledge been yearning for just +such an understanding touch as this child with her womanly instinct +had given him. He withdrew one hand from the wheel and took the warm +clinging fingers tight in his and waited in silence till he was sure of +himself. He drove some blocks before he was quite master of his voice. +Then, releasing the fingers, he turned his face toward the girl. + +"You are a real pal, aren't you, Patsy old girl?" he said with a very +bright smile at her. + +"I want to be! Oh, I would love to be!" she said, with a swift intake of +breath. "And after a while you will be just as you were before you went +away." + +"Hardly, I fear, Patsy." + +"Well, not the same, but different from what you are now. No, I don't +mean that a bit, Captain Jack. But perhaps you know--I do want to see +you on the ice again. Oh, it would be wonderful! Of course, the old team +wouldn't be there--Herbert and Phil and Andy. Why! You are the only +one left! And Rupert." She added the name doubtfully. "It WOULD be +different! oh, so different! Oh! I don't wonder you don't care, Captain +Jack. I won't wonder--" There was a little choke in the young voice. "I +see it now--" + +"I think you understand, Patsy, and you are a little brick," said +Captain Jack in a low, hurried tone. "And I am going to try. Anyway, +whatever happens, we will be pals." + +The girl caught his arm tight in her clasped hands and in a low voice +she said, "Always and always, Captain Jack, and evermore." And till they +drew up at the Rectory door no more was said. + +Maitland drove homeward through the mellow autumn evening with a warmer, +kindlier glow in his heart than he had known through all the dreary +weeks that had followed his return from the war. For the war had wrought +desolation for him in a home once rich in the things that make life +worth while, by taking from it his mother, whose rare soul qualities had +won and held through her life the love, the passionate, adoring love +of her sons, and his twin brother, the comrade, chum, friend of all his +days, with whose life his own had grown into a complete and ideal +unity, deprived of whom his life was left like a body from whose raw and +quivering flesh one-half had been torn away. + +The war had left his life otherwise bruised and maimed in ways known +only to himself. + +Returning thus from his soul-devastating experience of war to find +his life desolate and maimed in all that gave it value, he made the +appalling discovery that he was left almost alone of all whom he had +known and loved in past days. For of his close friends none were left +as before. For the most part they were lying on one or other of the five +battle fronts of the war. Others had found service in other spheres. +Only one was still in his home town, poor old Phil Amory, Frances' +brother, half-blind in his darkened room, but to bring anything of his +own heart burden to that brave soul seemed sacrilege or worse. True +enough, he was passing through the new and thrilling experience of +making acquaintance with his father. But old Grant Maitland was a hard +man to know, and they were too much alike in their reserve and in their +poverty of self-expression to make mutual acquaintance anything but a +slow and in some ways a painful process. + +Hence in Maitland's heart there was an almost extravagant gratitude +toward this young generous-hearted girl whose touch had thrilled +his heart and whose voice with its passionate note of loyal and +understanding comradeship still sang like music in his soul, "Always and +always, Captain Jack, and evermore." + +"By Jove, I have got to find some way of playing up to that," he said +aloud, as he turned from the gravelled driveway into the street. And in +the months that followed he was to find that the search to which he then +committed himself was to call for the utmost of the powers of soul which +were his. + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE COST OF SACRIFICE + + +Perrotte was by all odds the best all-round man in the planing mill, and +for the simple reason that for fifteen years he had followed the lumber +from the raw wood through the various machines till he knew woods and +machines and their ways as no other in the mill unless it was old Grant +Maitland himself. Fifteen years ago Perrotte had drifted down from the +woods, beating his way on a lumber train, having left his winter's pay +behind him at the verge of civilisation, with old Joe Barbeau and Joe's +"chucker out." It was the "chucker out" that dragged him out of the +"snake room" and, all unwitting, had given him a flying start toward a +better life. Perrotte came to Maitland when the season's work was at its +height and every saw and planer were roaring night and day. + +"Want a job?" Maitland had shouted over the tearing saw at him. "What +can you do?" + +"(H)axe-man me," growled Perrotte, looking up at him, half wistful, half +sullen. + +"See that slab? Grab it, pile it yonder. The boards, slide over the +shoot." For these were still primitive days for labor-saving devices, +and men were still the cheapest thing about a mill. + +Perrotte grabbed the slab, heaved it down to its pile of waste, the next +board he slid into the shoot, and so continued till noon found him pale +and staggering. + +"What's the matter with you?" said Maitland. + +"Notting--me bon," said Perrotte, and, clutching at the door jamb, hung +there gasping. + +Maitland's keen blue eyes searched his face. "Huh! When did you last +eat? Come! No lying!" + +"Two day," said Perrotte, fighting for breath and nerve. + +"Here, boy," shouted Maitland to a chore lad slouching by, "jump for +that cook house and fetch a cup of coffee, and be quick." + +The boss' tone injected energy into the gawky lad. In three minutes +Perrotte was seated on a pile of slabs, drinking a cup of coffee; in +five minutes more he stood up, ready for "(h)anny man, (h)anny ting." +But Maitland took him to the cook. + +"Fill this man up," he said, "and then show him where to sleep. And, +Perrotte, to-morrow morning at seven you be at the tail of the saw." + +"Oui, by gar! Perrotte be dere. And you got one good man TOO-day, for +sure." + +That was fifteen years ago, and, barring certain "jubilations," Perrotte +made good his prophecy. He brought up from the Ottawa his Irish wife, +a clever woman with her tongue but a housekeeper that scandalised her +thrifty, tidy, French-Canadian mother-in-law, and his two children, a +boy and a girl. Under the supervision of his boss he made for his family +a home and for himself an assured place in the Blackwater Mills. His +children fell into the hands of a teacher with a true vocation for his +great work and a passion for young life. Under his hand the youth of +the rapidly growing mill village were saved from the sordid and +soul-debasing influences of their environment, were led out of the muddy +streets and can-strewn back yards to those far heights where dwell the +high gods of poesy and romance. From the master, too, they learned to +know their own wonderful woods out of which the near-by farms had been +hewn. Many a home, too, owed its bookshelf to Alex Day's unobtrusive +suggestions. + +The Perrotte children were prepared for High School by the master's +quiet but determined persistence. To the father he held up the +utilitarian advantages of an education. + +"Your boy is quick--why should not Tony be a master of men some day? +Give him a chance to climb." + +"Oui, by gar! Antoine he's smart lee'le feller. I mak him steeck on his +book, you mak him one big boss on some mill." + +To the mother the master spoke of social advantages. The empty-headed +Irish woman who had all the quick wit and cleverness of tongue +characteristic of her race was determined that her girl Annette should +learn to be as stylish as "them that tho't themselves her betters." So +the children were kept at school by their fondly ambitious parents, and +the master did the rest. + +At the Public School, that greatest of all democratic institutions, the +Perrotte children met the town youth of their own age, giving and taking +on equal terms, sharing common privileges and advantages and growing +into a community solidarity all their own, which in later years brought +its own harvest of mingling joy and bitterness, but which on the whole +made for sound manhood and womanhood. + +With the girl Annette one effect of the Public School and its +influences, educational and social, was to reveal to her the depth of +the educational and social pit from which she had been taken. Her High +School training might have fitted her for the teaching profession +and completed her social emancipation but for her vain and thriftless +mother, who, socially ambitious for herself but more for her handsome, +clever children, found herself increasingly embarrassed for funds. She +lacked the means with which to suitably adorn herself and her children +for the station in life to which she aspired and for which good clothes +were the prime equipment and to "eddicate" Tony as he deserved. Hence +when Annette had completed her second year at the High School her mother +withdrew her from the school and its associations and found her a place +in the new Fancy Box Factory, where girls could obtain "an illigant and +refoined job with good pay as well." + +This change in Annette's outlook brought wrathful disappointment to the +head master, Alex Day, who had taken a very special pride in Annette's +brilliant school career and who had outlined for her a University +course. To Annette herself the ending of her school days was a bitter +grief, the bitterness of which would have been greatly intensified had +she been able to measure the magnitude of the change to be wrought in +her life by her mother's foolish vanity and unwise preference of her +son's to her daughter's future. + +The determining factor in Annette's submission to her mother's will was +consideration for her brother and his career. For while for her father +she cherished an affectionate pride and for her mother an amused and +protective pity, her great passion was for her brother--her handsome, +vivacious, audacious and mercurial brother, Tony. With him she counted +it only joy to share her all too meagre wages whenever he found himself +in financial straits. And a not infrequent situation this was with Tony, +who, while he seemed to have inherited from his mother the vivacity, +quick wit and general empty-headedness, from his father got nothing of +the thrift and patient endurance of grinding toil characteristic of the +French-Canadian habitant. But he did get from his father a capacity for +the knowing and handling of machinery, which amounted almost to genius. +Of the father's steadiness under the grind of daily work which had made +him the head mechanic in the Mill, Tony possessed not a tittle. What +he could get easily he got, and getting this fancied himself richly +endowed, knowing not how slight and superficial is the equipment for +life's stern fight that comes without sweat of brain and body. His +cleverness deceived first himself and then his family, who united in +believing him to be destined for high place and great things. Only +two of those who had to do with him in his boyhood weighed him in the +balance of truth. One was his Public School master, who labored with +incessant and painful care to awaken in him some glimmer of the need of +preparation for that bitter fight to which every man is appointed. The +other was Grant Maitland, whose knowledge of men and of life, gained at +cost of desperate conflict, made the youth's soul an open book to him. +Recognising the boy's aptitude, he had in holiday seasons set Tony +behind the machines in his planing mill, determined for his father's +sake to make of him a mechanical engineer. To Tony each new machine was +a toy to be played with; in a week or two he had mastered it and +grown weary of it. Thenceforth he slacked at his work and became a +demoralizing influence in his department, a source of anxiety to his +steady-going father, a plague to his employer, till the holiday time was +done. + +"Were you my son, my lad, I'd soon settle you," Grant Maitland would +say, when the boy was ready to go back to his school. "You will make a +mess of your life unless you can learn to stick at your job. The roads +are full of clever tramps, remember that, my boy." + +But Tony only smiled his brilliant smile at him, as he took his pay +envelope, which burned a hole in his pocket till he had done with it. +When the next holiday came round Tony would present himself for a job +with Jack Maitland to plead for him. For to Tony Jack was as king, to +whom he gave passionate loyalty without stint or measure. And thus for +his son Jack's sake, Jack's father took Tony on again, resolved to make +another effort to make something out of him. + +The bond between the two boys was hard to analyse. In games at Public +and High School Jack was always Captain and Tony his right-hand man, +held to his place and his training partly by his admiring devotion to +his Captain but more by a wholesome dread of the inexorable disciplinary +measures which slackness or trifling with the rules of the game would +inevitably bring him. Jack Maitland was the one being in Tony's +world who could put lasting fear into his soul or steadiness into his +practice. But even Jack at times failed. + +Then when both were eighteen they went to the War, Jack as an Officer, +Tony as a Non-Commissioned Officer in the same Battalion, Jack hating +the bloody business but resolute to play this great game of duty as he +played all games for all that was in him, Tony aglow at first with the +movement and glitter and later mad with the lust for deadly daring +that was native to his Keltic Gallic soul. They returned with their +respective decorations of D. S. O. and Military Medal and each with the +stamp of war cut deep upon him, in keeping with the quality of his soul. + +The return to peace was to them, as to the thousands of their comrades +to whom it was given to return, a shock almost as great as had been the +adventure of war. In a single day while still amid the scenes and +with all the paraphernalia of war about them an unreal and bewildering +silence had fallen on them. Like men in the unearthly realities of a +dream they moved through their routine duties, waiting for the orders +that would bring that well-known, sickening, savage tightening of their +courage and send them, laden like beasts of burden, up once more to that +hell of blood and mud, of nerve-shattering shell, of blinding glare and +ear-bursting roar of gun fire, and, worse than all, to the place where, +crouching in the farcical deceptive shelter of the sandbagged trench, +their fingers gripping into the steel of their rifle hands, they would +wait for the zero hour. But as the weeks passed and the orders failed to +come they passed from that bewildering and subconscious anxious waiting, +to an experience of wildly exultant, hysterical abandonment. They were +done with all that long horror and terror; they were never to go back +into it again; they were going back home; the New Day had dawned; war +was no more, nor ever would be again. Back to home, to waiting hearts, +to shining eyes, to welcoming arms, to peace, they were going. + +Thereafter, when some weeks of peace had passed and the drums of peace +had fallen quiet and the rushing, crowding, hurrahing people had melted +away, and the streets and roads were filled again with men and women +bent on business, with engagements to keep, the returned men found +themselves with dazed, listless mind waiting for orders from someone, +somewhere, or for the next movie show to open. But they were unwilling +to take on the humdrum of making a living, and were in most cases +incapable of initiating a congenial method of employing their powers, +their new-found, splendid, glorious powers, by means of which they had +saved an empire and a world. They had become common men again, they in +whose souls but a few weeks ago had flamed the glory and splendour of a +divine heroism! + +Small wonder that some of these men, tingling with the consciousness of +powers of which these busy, engaged people of the streets and shops +knew nothing, turned with disdain from the petty, paltry, many of them +non-manly tasks that men pursued solely that they might live. Live! For +these last terrible, great and glorious fifty months they had schooled +themselves to the notion that the main business of life was not to live. +There had been for them a thing to do infinitely more worth while than +to live. Indeed, had they been determined at all costs to live, then +they had become to themselves, to their comrades, and indeed to all the +world, the most despicable of all living things, deserving and winning +the infinite contempt of all true men. + +While the "gratuity money" lasted life went merrily enough, but when +the last cheque had been cashed, and the grim reality that rations had +ceased and Q. M. Stores were not longer available thrust itself vividly +into the face of the demobilised veteran, and when after experiencing +in job hunting varying degrees of humiliation the same veteran made +the startling and painful discovery that for his wares of heroic +self-immolation, of dogged endurance done up in khaki, there was no +demand in the bloodless but none the less strenuous conflict of living; +and that other discovery, more disconcerting, that he was not the man +he had been in pre-war days and thought himself still to be, but quite +another, then he was ready for one of two alternatives, to surrender to +the inevitable dictum that after all life was really not worth a fight, +more particularly if it could be sustained without one, or, to fling his +hat into the Bolshevist ring, ready for the old thing, war--war against +the enemies of civilisation and his own enemies, against those +who possessed things which he very much desired but which for some +inexplicable cause he was prevented from obtaining. + +The former class, to a greater or less degree, Jack Maitland +represented; the latter, Tony Perrotte. From their war experience they +were now knit together in bonds that ran into life issues. Together +they had faced war's ultimate horror, together they had emerged with +imperishable memories of sheer heroic manhood mutually revealed in hours +of desperate need. + +At Jack's request Tony had been given the position of a Junior Foreman +in one of the planing mill departments, with the promise of advancement. + +"You can have anything you are fit for, Tony, in any of the mills. I +feel that I owe you, that we both owe you more than we can pay by any +position we can offer," was Grant Maitland's word. + +"Mr. Maitland, neither you nor Jack owes me anything. Jack has paid, and +more than once, all he owed me. But," with a rueful smile, "don't expect +too much from me in this job. I can't see myself making it go." + +"Give it a big try. Do your best. I ask no more," said Mr. Maitland. + +"My best? That's a hard thing. Give me a bayonet and set some Huns +before me, and I'll do my best. This is different somehow." + +"Different, yet the same. The same qualities make for success. You have +the brains and with your gift for machinery--Well, try it. You and Jack +here will make this go between you, as you made the other go." + +The door closed on the young man. + +"Will he make good, Jack?" said the father, anxiously. + +"Will any of us make good?" + +"You will, Jack, I know. You can stick." + +"Yes, I can stick, I suppose, but, after all--well, we'll have a go +at it, anyway. But, like Tony, I feel like saying, 'Don't expect too +much.'" + +"Only your best, Jack, that's all. Take three months, six months, a +year, and get hold of the office end of the business. You have brains +enough. I want a General Manager right now, Wickes is hardly up to it. +He knows the books and he knows the works but he knows nothing else. He +doesn't know men nor markets. He is an office man pure and simple, and +he's old, too old. The fact is, Jack, I have to be my own Manager inside +and outside. My foremen are good, loyal, reliable fellows, but they only +know their orders. I want someone to stand beside me. The plant has been +doubled in capacity during the war. We did a lot of war work--aeroplane +parts. We got the spruce in the raw and worked it up, good work, too, if +I do say it myself. No better was done." + +"I know something about that, Dad. I had a day with Badgley in Toronto. +I know something about it, and I know where the money went, too, Dad." + +"The money? Of course, I couldn't take the money--how could I with my +boys at the war, and other men's boys?" + +"Rather not. My God, Dad, if I thought--! But what's the use talking? +They know in London all about the Ambulance Equipment and the Machine +Gun Battery, and the Hospital. Do you know why Caramus took a job in +the Permanent Force in England? It was either that or blowing out his +brains. He could not face his father, a war millionaire. My God, how +could he?" + +The boy was walking about his room with face white and lips quivering. + +"Caramus was in charge of that Machine Gun Section that held the line +and let us get back. Every man wiped out, and Caramus carried back +smashed to small pieces--and his father making a million out of +munitions! My God! My God!" + +A silence fell in the room for a minute. + +"Poor old Caramus! I saw him in the City a month ago," said the father. +"I pitied the poor wretch. He was alone in the Club, not a soul would +speak to him. He has got his hell." + +"He deserves it--all of it, and all who like him have got fat on blood +money. Do you know, Dad, when I see those men going about in the open +and no one kicking them I get fairly sick. I don't wonder at some of the +boys seeing red. You mark my words, we are going to have bad times in +this country before long." + +"I am afraid of it, boy. Things look ugly. Even in our own works I feel +a bad spirit about. There are some newcomers from the old country whom I +can't say I admire much. They grouch and they won't work. Our production +is lower than ever in our history and our labor cost is more than twice +what it was in 1914." + +"Well, Dad, give them a little time to settle down. I have no more use +for a slacker than I have for a war millionaire." + +"We can't stand much of that thing. Financially we are in fairly good +shape. We broke even with our aeroplane work. But we have a big stock +of spruce on hand--high-priced stuff, too--and a heavy, very heavy +overhead. We shall weather it all right. I don't mind the wages, but we +must have production. And that's why I want you with me." + +"You must not depend on me for much use for some time at least. I know a +little about handling men but about machinery I know nothing." + +"Never fear, boy, you've got the machine instinct in you. I remember +your holiday work in the mill, you see. But your place is in the office. +Wickes will show you the ropes, and you will make good, I know. And I +just want to say that you don't know how glad I am to have you come in +with me, Jack. If your brother had come back he would have taken hold, +he was cut out for the job, but--" + +"Poor old Andy! He had your genius for the business. I wish he had been +the one to get back!" + +"We had not the choosing, Jack, and if he had come we should have felt +the same about you. God knows what He is doing, and we can only do our +best." + +"Well, Dad," said Jack, rising and standing near his father's chair, "as +I said before, I'll make a go at it, but don't count too much on me." + +"I am counting a lot on you. You are all I have now." The father's +voice ended in a husky whisper. The boy swallowed the rising lump in +his throat but could find no more words to go on with. But in his heart +there was the resolve that he would make an honest try to do for his +father's sake what he would not for his own. + +But before a month had gone he was heartily sick of the office. It was +indoors, and the petty fussing with trivial details irked him. Accuracy +was a sine qua non of successful office work, and accuracy is either a +thing of natural gift or is the result of long and painful discipline, +and neither by nature nor by discipline had Jack come into the +possession of this prime qualification for a successful office man. His +ledger wellnigh brought tears to old Wickes' eyes and added a heavy load +to his day's work. Not that old Wickes grudged the extra burden, much +less made any complaint; rather did he count it joy to be able to cover +from other eyes than his own the errors that were inevitably to be found +in Jack's daily work. + +Had it seemed worth while, Jack would have disciplined himself to +accuracy. But what was the end of it all? A larger plant with more +machines to buy and more men to work them and to be overseen and to be +paid, a few more figures in a Bank Book--what else? Jack's tastes were +simple. He despised the ostentation of wealth in the accumulation of +mere things. He had only pity for the plunger and for the loose liver +contempt. Why should he tie himself to a desk, a well appointed desk it +is true, but still a desk, in a four-walled room, a much finer room than +his father had ever known, but a room which became to him a cage. +Why? Of course, there was his father--and Jack wearily turned to his +correspondence basket, sick of the sight of paper and letter heads and +cost forms and production reports. For his father's sake, who had only +him, he would carry on. And carry on he did, doggedly, wearily, bored to +death, but sticking it. The reports from the works were often ominous. +Things were not going well. There was an undercurrent of unrest among +the men. + +"I don't wonder at it," said Jack to old Wickes one day, when the +bookkeeper set before him the week's pay sheet and production sheet, +side by side. "After all, why should the poor devils work for us?" + +"For us, sir?" said the shocked Wickes. "For themselves, surely. What +would they do for a living if there was no work?" + +"That's just it, Wickes. They get a living--is it worth while?" + +"But, sir," gasped the old man, "they must live, and--" + +"Why must they?" + +"Because they want to! Wait till you see 'em sick, sir. My word! They do +make haste for the Doctor." + +"I fancy they do, Wickes. But all the same, I don't wonder that they +grouch a bit." + +"'Tis not the grumbling, sir, I deplore," said Wickes, "if they would +only work, or let the machines work. That's the trouble, sir. Why, sir, +when I came to your father, sir, we never looked at the clock, we kept +our minds on the work." + +"How long ago, Wickes?" + +"Thirty-one years, sir, come next Michaelmas. And glad I was to get the +job, too. You see, sir, I had just come to the country, and with the +missus and a couple of kids--" + +"Thirty-one years! Great Caesar! And you've worked at this desk for +thirty-one years! And what have you got out of it?" + +"Well, sir, not what you might call a terrible lot. I hadn't the +eddication for much, as you might say--but--well, there's my little +home, and we've lived happy there, the missus and me, and the kids--at +least, till the war came." The old man paused abruptly. + +"You're right, Wickes, by Jove," exclaimed Jack, starting from his seat +and gripping the old man's hand. "You have made a lot out of it--and you +gave as fine a boy as ever stepped in uniform to your country. We were +all proud of Stephen, every man of us." + +"I know that, sir, and he often wrote the wife about you, sir, which we +don't forget, sir. Of course, it's hard on her and the boys--just coming +up to be somethin' at the school." + +"By the way, Wickes, how are they doing? Two of them, aren't there? +Let's see--there's Steve, he's the eldest--" + +"No, sir, he's the youngest, sir. Robert is the eldest--fourteen, and +quite clever at his books. Pity he's got to quit just now." + +"Quit? Not a bit of it. We must see to that. And little Steve--how is +the back?" + +"He's twelve. The back hurts a lot, but he is happy enough, if you give +him a pencil. They're all with us now." + +"Ah, well, well. I think you have made something out of it after all, +Wickes. And we must see about Robert." + +Thirty-one years at the desk! And to show for it a home for his wife and +himself, a daughter in a home of her own, a son dead for his country, +leaving behind him a wife and two lads to carry the name--was it worth +while? Yes, by Jove, it was worth it all to be able to give a man like +Stephen Wickes to his country. For Stephen Wickes was a fine stalwart +lad, a good soldier, steady as a rock, with a patient, cheery courage +that nothing could daunt or break. But for a man's self was it worth +while? + +Jack had no thought of wife and family. There was Adrien. She had been a +great pal before the war, but since his return she had seemed different. +Everyone seemed different. The war had left many gaps, former pals had +formed other ties, many had gone from the town. Even Adrien had drifted +away from the old currents of life. She seemed to have taken up with +young Stillwell, whom Jack couldn't abide. Stillwell had been turned +down by the Recruiting Officer during the war--flat feet, or something. +True, he had done great service in Red Cross, Patriotic Fund, Victory +Loan work, and that sort of thing, and apparently stood high in the +Community. His father had doubled the size of his store and had been a +great force in all public war work. He had spared neither himself nor +his son. The elder Stillwell, high up in the Provincial Political world, +saw to it that his son was on all the big Provincial War Committees. +Rupert had all the shrewd foresight and business ability of his father, +which was saying a good deal. He began to assume the role of a promising +young capitalist. The sources of his income no one knew--fortunate +investments, people said. And his Hudson Six stood at the Rectory gate +every day. Well, not even for Adrien would Jack have changed places with +Rupert Stillwell. For Jack Maitland held the extreme and, in certain +circles, unpopular creed that the citizen who came richer out of a war +which had left his country submerged in debt, and which had drained away +its best blood and left it poorer in its manhood by well-nigh seventy +thousand of its noblest youth left upon the battlefields of the various +war fronts and by the hundreds of thousands who would go through life +a burden to themselves and to those to whom they should have been a +support--that citizen was accursed. If Adrien chose to be a friend +of such a man, by that choice she classified herself as impossible of +friendship for Jack. It had hurt a bit. But what was one hurt more or +less to one whom the war had left numb in heart and bereft of ambition? +He was not going to pity himself. He was lucky indeed to have his body +and nerve still sound and whole, but they need not expect him to show +any great keenness in the chase for a few more thousands that would only +rank him among those for whom the war had not done so badly. Meantime, +for his father's sake, who, thank God, had given his best, his heart's +best and the best of his brain and of his splendid business genius +to his country, he would carry on, with no other reward than that of +service rendered. + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE HEATHEN QUEST + + +They stood together by the open fire in the study, Jack and his father, +alike in many ways yet producing effects very different. The younger man +had the physical makeup of the older, though of a slighter mould. +They had the same high, proud look of conscious strength, of cool +fearlessness that nothing could fluster. But the soul that looked out of +the grey eyes of the son was quite another from that which looked out of +the deep blue eyes of the father--yet, after all, the difference may not +have been in essence but only that the older man's soul had learned in +life's experience to look out only through a veil. + +The soul of the youth was eager, adventurous, still believing, yet +with a certain questioning and a touch of weariness, a result of the +aftermath of peace following three years of war. There was still, +however, the out-looking for far horizons, the outreaching imagination, +the Heaven given expectation of the Infinite. In the older man's eye +dwelt chiefly reserve. The veil was always there except when he found it +wise and useful to draw it aside. If ever the inner light flamed +forth it was when the man so chose. Self-mastery, shrewdness, power, +knowledge, lay in the dark blue eyes, and all at the soul's command. + +But to-night as the father's eyes rested upon his son who stood gazing +into and through the blazing fire there were to be seen only pride and +wistful love. But as the son turned his eyes toward his father the veil +fell and the eyes that answered were quiet, shrewd, keen and chiefly +kind. + +The talk had passed beyond the commonplace of the day's doings. They +were among the big things, the fateful thing--Life and Its Worth, Work +and Its Wages, Creative Industry and Its Product, Capital and Its Price, +Man and His Rights. + +They were frank with each other. The war had done that for them. For +ever since the night when his eighteen-year-old boy had walked into his +den and said, "Father, I am eighteen," and stood looking into his eyes +and waiting for the word that came straight and unhesitating, "I know, +boy, you are my son and you must go, for I cannot," ever since that +night, which seemed now to belong to another age, these two had faced +each other as men. Now they were talking about the young man's life +work. + +"Frankly, I don't like it, Dad," said the son. + +"Easy to see that, Jack." + +"I'm really sorry. I'm afraid anyone can see it. But somehow I can't put +much pep into it." + +"Why?" asked the father, with curt abruptness. + +"Why? Well, I hardly know. Somehow it hardly seems worth while. It is +not the grind of the office, though that is considerable. I could stick +that, but, after all, what's the use?" + +"What would you rather do, Jack?" enquired his father patiently, as if +talking to a child. "You tried for the medical profession, you know, +and--" + +"I know, I know, you are quite right about it. You may think it pure +laziness. Maybe it is, but I hardly think so. Perhaps I went back to +lectures too soon after the war. I was hardly fit, I guess, and the +whole thing, the inside life, the infernal grind of lectures, the +idiotic serious mummery of the youngsters, those blessed kids who should +have been spanked by their mothers--the whole thing sickened me in three +months. If I had waited perhaps I might have done better at the thing. I +don't know--hard to tell." The boy paused, looking into the fire. + +"It was my fault, boy," said the father hastily. "I ought to have +figured the thing out differently. But, you see, I had no knowledge of +what you had gone through and of its effect upon you. I know better now. +I thought that the harder you went into the work the better it would be +for you. I made a mistake." + +"Well, you couldn't tell, Dad. How could you? But everything was so +different when I came back. Mere kids were carrying on where we had +been, and doing it well, too, by Jove, and we didn't seem to be needed." + +"Needed, boy?" The father's voice was thick. + +"Yes, but I didn't see that then. Selfish, I fear. Then, you know, home +was not the same--" + +The older man choked back a groan and leaned hard against the mantel. + +"I know, Dad, I can see now I was selfish--" + +"Selfish? Don't say that, my lad. Selfish? After all you had gone +through? No, I shall never apply that word to you, but you--you don't +seem to realise--" The father hesitated a few moments, then, as if +taking a plunge: + +"You don't realise just how big a thing--how big an investment there is +in that business down there--." His hand swept toward the window through +which could be seen the lights of that part of the town which clustered +about the various mills and factories of which he was owner. + +"I know there is a lot, Dad, but how much I don't know." + +"There's $250,000 in plant alone, boy, but there's more than money, a +lot more than money--" Then, after a pause, as if to himself, "A lot +more than money--there's brain sweat and heart agony and prayers and +tears--and, yes, life, boy, your mother's life and mine. We worked and +saved and prayed and planned--" + +He stepped quickly toward the window, drew aside the curtain and pointed +to a dark mass of headland beyond the twinkling lights. + +"You see the Bluff there. Fifty years ago I stood with my father on +that Bluff and watched the logs come down the river to the sawmill--his +sawmill, into which he had put his total capital, five hundred dollars. +I remember well his words, 'My son, if you live out your life you will +see on that flat a town where thousands of men and women will find homes +and, please God, happiness.' Your mother and I watched that town grow +for forty years, and we tried to make people happy--at least, if they +were not it was no fault of hers. Of course, other hands have been at +the work since then, but her hands and mine more than any other, and +more than all others together were in it, and her heart, too, was in it +all." + +The boy turned from the window and sat down heavily in a deep armchair, +his hands covering his face. His heart was still sick with the ache +that had smitten it that day in front of Amiens when the Colonel, +his father's friend, had sent for him and read him the wire which had +brought the terrible message of his mother's death. The long months of +days and nights heavy with watching, toiling, praying, agonising, for +her twin sons, and for the many boys who had gone out from the little +town wore out her none too robust strength. Then, the sniper's bullet +that had pierced the heart of her boy seemed to reach to her heart as +well. After that, the home that once had been to its dwellers the most +completely heart-satisfying spot in all the world became a place of +dread, of haunting ghosts, of acutely poignant memories. They used the +house for sleeping in and for eating in, but there was no living in it +longer. To them it was a tomb, though neither would acknowledge it and +each bore with it for the other's sake. + +"Honestly, Dad, I wish I could make it go, for your sake--" + +"For my sake, boy? Why, I have all of it I care for. Not for my sake. +But what else can we do but stick it?" + +"I suppose so--but for Heaven's sake give me something worth a man's +doing. If I could tackle a job such as you and"--the boy winced--"you +and mother took on I believe I'd try it. But that office! Any fool could +sit in my place and carry on. It is like the job they used to give to +the crocks or the slackers at the base to do. Give me a man's job." + +The father's keen blue eyes looked his son over. + +"A man's job?" he said, with a grim smile, realising as his son did not +how much of a man's job it was. "Suppose you learn this one as I did?" + +"What do you mean, Dad, exactly? How did you begin?" + +"I? At the tail of the saw." + +"All right, I'm game." + +"Boy, you are right--I believe in my soul you are right. You did a man's +job 'out there' and you have it in you to do a man's job again." + +The son shrugged his shoulders. Next morning at seven they were down at +the planing mill where men were doing men's work. He was at a man's job, +at the tail of a saw, and drawing a man's pay, rubbing shoulders with +men on equal terms, as he had in the trenches. And for the first time +since Armistice Day, if not happy or satisfied, he was content to carry +on. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +ANNETTE + + +Sam Wigglesworth had finished with school, which is not quite the same +as saying that he had finished his education. A number of causes had +combined to bring this event to pass. First, Sam was beyond the age +of compulsory attendance at the Public School, the School Register +recording him as sixteen years old. Then, Sam's educational career had +been anything but brilliant. Indeed, it might fairly be described as +dull. All his life he had been behind his class, the biggest boy in his +class, which fact might have been to Sam a constant cause of humiliation +had he not held as of the slightest moment merely academic achievements. +One unpleasant effect which this fact had upon Sam's moral quality was +that it tended to make him a bully. He was physically the superior of +all in his class, and this superiority he exerted for what he deemed the +discipline of younger and weaker boys, who excelled him in intellectual +attainment. + +Furthermore, Sam, while quite ready to enforce the code of discipline +which he considered suitable to the smaller and weaker boys in his +class, resented and resisted the attempts of constituted authority +to enforce discipline in his own case, with the result that Sam's +educational career was, after much long suffering, abruptly terminated +by the action of the long-suffering head, Alex Day. + +"With great regret I must report," his letter to the School Board +ran, "that in the case of Samuel Wigglesworth I have somehow failed to +inculcate the elementary principles of obedience to school regulations +and of adherence to truth in speech. I am free to acknowledge," went on +the letter, "that the defect may be in myself as much as in the boy, but +having failed in winning him to obedience and truth-telling, I feel +that while I remain master of the school I must decline to allow the +influence of this youth to continue in the school. A whole-hearted +penitence for his many offences and an earnest purpose to reform +would induce me to give him a further trial. In the absence of either +penitence or purpose to reform I must regretfully advise expulsion." + +Joyfully the School Board, who had for months urged upon the reluctant +head this action, acquiesced in the course suggested, and Samuel was +forthwith expelled, to his own unmitigated relief but to his father's +red and raging indignation at what he termed the "(h)ignorant +persecution of their betters by these (h)insolent Colonials," for +"'is son 'ad 'ad the advantages of schools of the 'ighest standin' in +(H)England." + +Being expelled from school Sam forthwith was brought by his father +to the office of the mills, where he himself was employed. There he +introduced his son to the notice of Mr. Grant Maitland, with request for +employment. + +The old man looked the boy over. + +"What has he been doing?" + +"Nothin'. 'E's just left school." + +"High School?" + +"Naw. Public School." Wigglesworth Sr.'s tone indicated no exalted +opinion of the Public School. + +"Public School! What grade, eh?" + +"Grade? I dinnaw. Wot grade, Samuel? Come, speak (h)up, cawn't yeh?" + +"Uh?" Sam's mental faculties had been occupied in observing the +activities and guessing the probable fate of a lumber-jack gaily decked +in scarlet sash and blue overalls, who was the central figure upon a +flaming calendar tacked up behind Mr. Maitland's desk, setting forth +the commercial advantages of trading with the Departmental Stores of +Stillwell & Son. + +"Wot grade in school, the boss is (h)askin'," said his father sharply. + +"Grade?" enquired Sam, returning to the commonplace of the moment. + +"Yes, what grade in the Public School were you in when you left?" The +blue eyes of the boss was "borin' 'oles" through Sam and the voice +pierced like a "bleedin' gimblet," as Wigglesworth, Sr., reported to his +spouse that afternoon. + +Sam hesitated a bare second. "Fourth grade it was," he said with sullen +reluctance. + +"'Adn't no chance, Samuel 'adn't. Been a delicate child ever since 'is +mother stopped suckin' 'im," explained the father with a sympathetic +shake of his head. + +The cold blue eye appraised the boy's hulking mass. + +"'E don't look it," continued Mr. Wigglesworth, noting the keen glance, +"but 'e's never been (h)able to bide steady at the school. (H)It's 'is +brain, sir." + +"His--ah--brain?" Again the blue eyes appraised the boy, this time +scanning critically his face for indication of undue brain activity. + +"'Is brain, sir," earnestly reiterated the sympathetic parent. "'Watch +that (h)infant's brain,' sez the Doctor to the missus when she put 'im +on the bottle. And you know, we 'ave real doctors in (H)England, sir. +'Watch 'is brain,' sez 'e, and, my word, the care 'is ma 'as took +of that boy's brain is wunnerful, is fair beautiful, sir." Mr. +Wigglesworth's voice grew tremulous at the remembrance of that maternal +solicitude. + +"And was that why he left school?" enquired the boss. + +"Well, sir, not (h)exackly," said Mr. Wigglesworth, momentarily taken +aback, "though w'en I comes to think on it that must a been at the +bottom of it. You see, w'en Samuel went at 'is books of a night 'e'd no +more than begin at a sum an' 'e'd say to 'is ma, 'My brain's a-whirlin', +ma', just like that, and 'is ma would 'ave to pull 'is book away, just +drag it away, you might say. Oh, 'e's 'ad a 'ard time, 'as Samuel." At +this point the boss received a distinct shock, for, as his eyes were +resting upon Samuel's face meditatively while he listened somewhat +apathetically, it must be confessed, to the father's moving tale, the +eye of the boy remote from the father closed in a slow but significant +wink. + +The boss sat up, galvanised into alert attention. "Eh? What?" he +exclaimed. + +"Yes, sir, 'e's caused 'is ma many a (h)anxious hour, 'as Samuel." Again +the eye closed in a slow and solemn wink. "And we thought, 'is ma and +me, that we would like to get Samuel into some easy job--" + +"An easy job, eh?" + +"Yes, sir. Something in the office, 'ere." + +"But his brain, you say, would not let him study his books." + +"Oh, it was them sums, sir, an' the Jography and the 'Istory an' the +Composition, an', an'--wot else, Samuel? You see, these 'ere schools +ain't a bit like the schools at 'ome, sir. They're so confusing with +their subjecks. Wot I say is, why not stick to real (h)eddication, +without the fiddle faddles?" + +"So you want an easy job for your son, eh?" enquired Mr. Maitland. + +"Boy," he said sharply to Samuel, whose eyes had again become fixed upon +the gay and daring lumber-jack. Samuel recalled himself with visible +effort. "Why did you leave school? The truth, mind." The "borin'" eyes +were at their work. + +"Fired!" said Sam promptly. + +Mr. Wigglesworth began a sputtering explanation. + +"That will do, Wigglesworth," said Mr. Maitland, holding up his hand. +"Sam, you come and see me tomorrow here at eight. Do you understand?" + +Sam nodded. After they had departed there came through the closed +office door the sound of Mr. Wigglesworth's voice lifted in violent +declamation, but from Sam no answering sound could be heard. + +The school suffered no noticeable loss in the intellectual quality of +its activities by the removal of the whirling brain and incidentally +its physical integument of Samuel Wigglesworth. To the smaller boys the +absence of Sam brought unbounded joy, more especially during the +hours of recess from study and on their homeward way from school after +dismissal. + +More than any other, little Steve Wickes rejoiced in Sam's departure +from school. Owing to some mysterious arrangement of Sam's brain cells +he seemed to possess an abnormal interest in observing the sufferings +of any animal. The squirming of an unfortunate fly upon a pin fascinated +him, the sight of a wretched dog driven mad with terror rushing +frantically down a street, with a tin can dangling to its tail, +convulsed him with shrieking delight. The more highly organised the +suffering animal, the keener was Sam's joy. A child, for instance, +flying in a paroxysm of fear from Sam's hideously contorted face +furnished acute satisfaction. It fell naturally enough that little +Steve Wickes, the timid, shrinking, humpbacked son of the dead soldier, +Stephen Wickes, afforded Sam many opportunities of rare pleasure. It +was Sam that coined and, with the aid of his sycophantic following +never wanting to a bully, fastened to the child the nickname of "Humpy +Wicksy," working thereby writhing agony in the lad's highly sensitive +soul. But Sam did not stay his hand at the infliction of merely mental +anguish. It was one of his favorite forms of sport to seize the child by +the collar and breeches and, swinging him high over head, hold him there +in an anguish of suspense, awaiting the threatened drop. It is to be +confessed that Sam was not entirely without provocation at the hands +of little Steve, for the lad had a truly uncanny cunning hidden in +his pencil, by means of which Sam was held up in caricature to the +surreptitious joy of his schoolmates. Sam's departure from school +deprived him of the full opportunity he formerly enjoyed of indulging +himself in his favourite sport. On this account he took the more eager +advantage of any opportunity that offered still to gratify his taste in +this direction. + +Sauntering sullenly homeward from his interview with the boss and with +his temper rasped to a raw edge by his father's wrathful comments upon +his "dommed waggin' tongue," he welcomed with quite unusual eagerness +the opportunity for indulging himself in his pastime of baiting Humpy +Wicksy whom he overtook on his way home from school during the noon +intermission. + +"Hello, Humpy," he roared at the lad. + +Like a frightened rabbit Steve scurried down a lane, Sam whooping after +him. + +"Come back, you little beast. Do you hear me? I'll learn you to come +when you're called," he shouted, catching the terrified lad and heaving +him aloft in his usual double-handed grip. + +"Let me down, you! Leave me alone now," shrieked the boy, squirming, +scratching, biting like an infuriated cat. + +"Bite, would you?" said Sam, flinging the boy down. "Now then," catching +him by the legs and turning him over on his stomach, "we'll make a +wheelbarrow of you. Gee up, Buck! Want a ride, boys?" he shouted to his +admiring gallery of toadies. "All aboard!" + +While the unhappy Steve, shrieking prayers and curses, was struggling +vainly to extricate himself from the hands gripping his ankles, Annette +Perrotte, stepping smartly along the street on her way from the box +factory, came past the entrance to the lane. By her side strode a +broad-shouldered, upstanding youth. Arrested by Steve's outcries and +curses she paused. + +"What are those boys at, I wonder?" she said. "There's that big lout of +a Wigglesworth boy. He's up to no good, I bet you." + +"Oh, a kids' row of some kind or ither, a doot," said the youth. "Come +along." + +"He's hurting someone," said Annette, starting down the lane. "What? I +believe it's that poor child, Steve Wickes." Like a wrathful fury she +dashed in upon Sam and his company of tormentors and, knocking the +little ones right and left, she sprang upon Sam with a fierce cry. + +"You great brute!" She seized him by his thatch of thick red hair and +with one mighty swing she hurled him clear of Steve and dashed him head +on against the lane fence. Sheer surprise held Sam silent for a few +seconds, but as he felt the trickle of warm blood run down his face and +saw it red upon his hand, his surprise gave place to terror. + +"Ouw! Ouw!" he bellowed. "I'm killed, I'm dying. Ouw! Ouw!" + +"I hope so," said Annette, holding Steve in her arms and seeking to +quiet his sobbing. But as she saw the streaming blood her face paled. + +"For the love of Mike, Mack, see if he's hurt," she said in a low voice +to her companion. + +"Not he! He's makin' too much noise," said the young man. "Here, you +young bull, wait till I see what's wrang wi' ye," he continued, stooping +over Sam. + +"Get away from me, I tell you. Ouw! Ouw! I'm dying, and they'll hang +her. Ouw! Ouw! I'm killed, and I'm just glad I am, for she'll be hung to +death." Here Sam broke into a vigorous stream of profanity. + +"Ay, he's improvin' A doot," said Mack. "Let us be going." + +"'Ello! Wot's (h)up?" cried a voice. It was Mr. Wigglesworth on his way +home from the mill. "Why, bless my living lights, if it bean't Samuel. +Who's been a beatin' of you, Sammy?" His eye swept the crowd. "'Ave you +been at my lad?" he asked, stepping toward the young man, whom Annette +named Mack. + +"Aw, steady up, man. There's naethin' much wrang wi' the lad--a wee +scratch on the heid frae fa'in' against the fence yonder." + +"Who 'it 'im, I say?" shouted Mr. Wigglesworth. "Was it you?" he added, +squaring up to the young man. + +"No, it wasn't, Mr. Wigglesworth. It was me." Mr. Wigglesworth turned +on Annette who, now that Sam's bellowing had much abated with the +appearance of his father upon the scene, had somewhat regained her +nerve. + +"You?" gasped Mr. Wigglesworth. "You? My Samuel? It's a lie," he cried. + +"Hey, mon, guairrd y're tongue a bit," said Mack. "Mind ye're speakin' +to a leddy." + +"A lidy! A lidy!" Mr. Wigglesworth's voice was eloquent of scorn. + +"Aye, a leddy!" said Mack. "An' mind what ye say aboot her tae. Mind +y're manners, man." + +"My manners, hey? An' 'oo may you be, to learn me manners, you bloomin' +(h)ignorant Scotch (h)ass. You give me (h)any of your (h)imperance an' +I'll knock y're bloomin' block (h)off, I will." And Mr. Wigglesworth, +throwing himself into the approved pugilistic attitude, began dancing +about the young Scot. + +"Hoot, mon, awa' hame wi' ye. Tak' yon young tyke wi' ye an' gie him a +bit wash, he's needin' it," said Mack, smiling pleasantly at the excited +and belligerent Mr. Wigglesworth. + +At this point Captain Jack, slowly motoring by the lane mouth, turned +his machine to the curb and leaped out. + +"What's the row here?" he asked, making his way through the considerable +crowd that had gathered. "What's the trouble, Wigglesworth?" + +"They're knockin' my boy abaht, so they be," exclaimed Mr. Wigglesworth. +"But," with growing and righteous wrath, "they'll find (h)out that, +wotsomever they do to a kid, w'en they come (h)up agin Joe Wigglesworth +they've struck somethin' 'ard--'ard, d'ye 'ear? 'Ard!" And Mr. +Wigglesworth made a pass at the young Scot. + +"Hold on, Wigglesworth," said Captain Jack quietly, catching his arm. +"Were you beating up this kid?" he asked, turning to the young man. + +"Nae buddie's beatin' up the lad," said Mack quietly. + +"It was me," said the girl, turning a defiant face to Captain Jack. + +"You? Why! great Scot! Blest if it isn't Annette." + +"Yes, it's me," said the girl, her face a flame of colour. + +"By Jove, you've grown up, haven't you? And it was you that--" + +"Yes, that big brute was abusing Steve here." + +"What? Little Steve Wickes?" + +"He was, and I pitched him into the fence. He hit his head and cut it, I +guess. I didn't mean--" + +"Served him right enough, too, I fancy," said Captain Jack. + +"I'll 'ave the law on the lot o' ye, I will. I'm a poor workin' man, +but I've got my rights, an' if there's a justice in this Gawd forsaken +country I'll 'ave protection for my family." And Mr. Wigglesworth, +working up a fury, backed off down the lane. + +"Don't fear, Wigglesworth, you'll get all the justice you want. Perhaps +Sam will tell us--Hello! Where is Sam?" + +But Sam had vanished. He had no mind for an investigation in the +presence of Captain Jack. + +"Well, well, he can't be much injured, I guess. Meantime, can I give you +a lift, Annette?" + +"No, thank you," said the girl, the colour in her cheeks matching the +crimson ribbon at her throat. "I'm just going home. It's only a little +way. I don't--" + +"The young leddy is with me, sir," said the young Scotchman quietly. + +"Oh, she is, eh?" said Captain Jack, looking him over. "Ah, well, +then--Good-bye, Annette, for the present." He held out his hand. "We +must renew our old acquaintance, eh?" + +"Thank you, sir," said the girl. + +"'Sir?' Rot! You aren't going to 'sir' me, Annette, after all the fun +and the fights we had in the old days. Not much. We're going to be good +chums again, eh? What do you say?" + +"I don't know," said Annette, flashing a swift glance into Captain +Jack's admiring eyes. "It depends on--" + +"On me?" + +"I didn't say so." Her head went up a bit. + +"On you?" + +"I didn't say so." + +"Well, let it go. But we will be pals again, Annette, I vow. Good-bye." +Captain Jack lifted his hat and moved away. + +As he reached his car he ran up against young Rupert Stillwell. + +"Deucedly pretty Annette has grown, eh?" said Stillwell. + +"Annette's all right," said Jack, rather brusquely, entering his car. + +"Working in your box factory, I understand, eh?" + +"Don't really know," said Jack carelessly. "Probably." + +The crowd had meantime faded away with Captain Jack's going. + +"Did na know the Captain was a friend of yours, Annette," said Mack, +falling into step beside her. + +"No--yes--I don't know. We went to Public School together before the +war. I was a kid then." Her manner was abstracted and her eyes were +far away. Mack walked gloomily by her on one side, little Steve on the +other. + +"Huh! He's no your sort, A doot," he said sullenly. + +"What do you say?" cried Annette, returning from her abstraction. "What +do you mean, 'my sort'?" Her head went high and her eyes flashed. + +"He would na look at ye, for ony guid." + +"He did look at me though," replied Annette, tossing her head. + +"No for ony guid!" repeated Mack, stubbornly. + +Annette stopped in her tracks, a burning red on her cheeks and a +dangerous light in her black eyes. + +"Mr. McNish, that's your road," she said, pointing over his shoulder. + +"A'll tak it tae," said McNish, wheeling on his heel, "an' ye can hae +your Captain for me." + +With never a look at him Annette took her way home. + +"Good-bye, Steve," she said, stooping and kissing the boy. "This is your +corner." + +"Annette," he said, with a quick, shy look up into her face, "I like +Captain Jack, don't you?" + +"No," she said hurriedly. "I mean yes, of course." + +"And I like you too," said the boy, with an adoring look in his deep +eyes, "better'n anyone in the world." + +"Do you, Steve? I'm glad." Again she stooped swiftly and kissed him. +"Now run home." + +She hurried home, passed into her room without a word to anyone. Slowly +she removed her hat, then turning to her glass she gazed at her flushed +face for a few moments. A little smile curved her lips. "He did look at +me anyway," she whispered to the face that looked out at her, "he did, +he did," she repeated. Then swiftly she covered her eyes. When she +looked again she saw a face white and drawn. "He would na look at ye." +The words smote her with a chill. Drearily she turned away and went out. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE RECTORY + + +The Rectory was one of the very oldest of the more substantial of +Blackwater's dwellings. Built of grey limestone from the local quarries, +its solid square mass relieved by its quaint dormer windows was softened +from its primal ugliness by the Boston ivy that had clambered to the +eaves and lay draped about the windows like a soft green mantle. Built +in the early days, it stood with the little church, a gem of Gothic +architecture, within spacious grounds bought when land was cheap. Behind +the house stood the stable, built also of grey limestone, and at one +side a cherry and apple orchard formed a charming background to the grey +buildings with their crowding shrubbery and gardens. A gravelled winding +drive led from the street through towering elms, a picturesque remnant +from the original forest, to the front door and round the house to the +stable yard behind. From the driveway a gravelled footpath led through +the shrubbery and flower garden by a wicket gate to the Church. When +first built the Rectory stood in dignified seclusion on the edge of the +village, but the prosperity of the growing town demanding space for its +inhabitants had driven its streets far beyond the Rectory demesne on +every side, till now it stood, a green oasis of sheltered loveliness, +amid a crowding mass of modern brick dwellings, comfortable enough but +arid of beauty and suggestive only of the utilitarian demands of a busy +manufacturing town. + +For nearly a quarter of a century the Rev. Herbert Aveling Templeton, +D.D., LL.D., for whom the Rectory had been built, had ministered in +holy things to the Parish of St. Alban's and had exercised a guiding and +paternal care over the social and religious well-being of the community. +The younger son of one of England's noble families, educated in an +English Public School and University, he represented, in the life of +this new, thriving, bustling town, the traditions and manners of an +English gentleman of the Old School. Still in his early sixties, he +carried his years with all the vigour of a man twenty years his junior. +As he daily took his morning walk for his mail, stepping with the brisk +pace of one whose poise the years had not been able to disturb, yet +with the stately bearing consistent with the dignity attaching to +his position and office, men's eyes followed the tall, handsome, +white-haired, well set up gentleman always with admiration and, where +knowledge was intimate, with reverence and affection. Before the recent +rapid growth of the town consequent upon the establishment of various +manufacturing industries attracted thither by the unique railroad +facilities, the Rector's walk was something in the nature of public +perambulatory reception. For he knew them all, and for all had a word +of greeting, of enquiry, of cheer, of admonition, so that by the time +he had returned to his home he might have been said to have conducted a +pastoral visitation of a considerable proportion of his flock. Even yet, +with the changes that had taken place, his walk to the Post Office was +punctuated with greetings and salutations from his fellow-citizens in +whose hearts his twenty-five years of devotion to their well-being, +spiritual and physical, had made for him an enduring place. + +The lady of the Rectory, though some twenty years his junior, yet, by +reason of delicate health due largely to the double burden of household +cares and parish duties, appeared to be quite of equal age. Gentle in +spirit, frail in body, there seemed to be in her soul something of the +quality of tempered steel, yet withal a strain of worldly wisdom +mingled with a strange ignorance of the affairs of modern life. Her life +revolved around one centre, her adored husband, a centre enlarged as +time went on to include her only son and her two daughters. All others +and all else in her world were of interest solely as they might be more +or less closely related to these, the members of her family. The town +and the town folk she knew solely as her husband's parish. There were +other people and other communions, no doubt, but being beyond the pale +they could hardly be supposed to matter, or, at any rate, she could not +be supposed to regard them with more than the interest and spasmodic +concern which she felt it her duty to bestow upon those unfortunate +dwellers in partibus infidelium. + +Regarding the Public School of the town with aversion because of its +woefully democratic character, she was weaned from her hostility to that +institution when her son's name was entered upon its roll. Her eldest +daughter, indeed, she sent as a girl of fourteen to an exclusive English +school, the expense of which was borne by her husband's eldest brother, +Sir Arthur Templeton, for she held the opinion that while for a boy +the Public School was an excellent institution with a girl it was +quite different. Hence, while her eldest daughter went "Home" for her +education, her boy went to the Blackwater Public and High Schools, which +institutions became henceforth invested with the highest qualifications +as centres of education. Her boy's friends were her friends, and to them +her house was open at all hours of day or night. Indeed, it became +the governing idea in her domestic policy that her house should be the +rallying centre for everything that was related in any degree to her +children's life. Hence, she quietly but effectively limited the circle +of the children's friends to those who were able and were willing to +make the Rectory their social centre. She saw to it that for Herbert's +intimate boy friends the big play room at the top of the house, once a +bare and empty room and later the large and comfortable family living +room, became the place of meeting for all their social and athletic +club activities. With unsleeping vigilance she stood on guard against +anything that might break that circle of her heart's devotion. The +circle might be, indeed must be enlarged, as for instance to take in the +Maitland boys, Herbert's closest chums. She was wise enough to see the +wisdom of that, but nothing on earth would she allow to filch from her a +single unit of the priceless treasures of her heart. + +To this law of her life she made one glorious, one splendid exception. +When her country called, she, after weeks of silent, fierce, lonely, +agonised struggle gave up her boy and sent him with voiceless, tearless +pride to the War. + +But, when the boy's Colonel wrote in terms of affectionate pride of +her boy's glorious passing, with new and strange adaptability her heart +circle was extended to include her boy's comrades in war and those who +like herself had sent them forth. Thenceforth every khaki covered lad +was to her a son, and every soldier's mother a friend. + +As her own immediate home circle grew smaller, the intensity of her +devotion increased. Her two daughters became her absorbing concern. With +the modern notion that a girl might make for herself a career in life +she had no sympathy whatever. To see them happily married and in homes +of their own became the absorbing ambition of her life. To this end +she administered her social activities, with this purpose in view she +encouraged or discouraged her daughters' friendships with men. With the +worldly wisdom of which she had her own share she came to the conclusion +that ineligible men friends, that is, men friends unable to give her +daughters a proper setting in the social world, were to be effectively +eliminated. That the men of her daughters' choosing should be gentlemen +in breeding went without saying, but that they should be sufficiently +endowed with wealth to support a proper social position was equally +essential. + +That Jack Maitland had somehow dropped out of the intimate circle of +friends who had in pre-war days made the Rectory their headquarters was +to her a more bitter disappointment than she cared to acknowledge even +to herself. Her son and the two Maitland boys had been inseparable in +their school and college days, and with the two young men her daughters +had been associated in the very closest terms of comradeship. But +somehow Captain Jack Maitland after the first months succeeding his +return from the war had drawn apart. Disappointed, perplexed, hurt, she +vainly had striven to restore the old footing between the young man and +her daughters. Young Maitland had taken up his medical studies for a +few months at his old University in Toronto and so had been out of touch +with the social life of his home town. Then after he had "chucked" his +course as impossible he had at his father's earnest wish taken up +work at the mills, at first in the office, later in the manufacturing +department. There was something queer in Jack's attitude toward his old +life and its associations, and after her first failures in attempting +to restore the old relationship her eldest daughter's pride and then her +own forbade further efforts. + +Adrien, her eldest daughter, had always been a difficult child, and her +stay in England and later her experience in war work in France where for +three years she had given rare service in hospital work had somehow made +her even more inaccessible to her mother. And now the situation had been +rendered more distressing by her determination "to find something to +do." She was firm in her resolve that she had no intention of patiently +waiting in her home, ostensibly busying herself with social duties but +in reality "waiting if not actually angling for a man." She bluntly +informed her scandalised parent that "when she wanted a man more than +a career it would be far less humiliating to frankly go out and get +him than to practise alluring poses in the hopes that he might deign to +bestow upon her his lordly regard." Her mother wisely forebore to argue. +Indeed, she had long since learned that in argumentive powers she was +hopelessly outclassed by her intellectual daughter. She could only +express her shocked disappointment at such intentions and quietly plan +to circumvent them. + +As to Patricia, her younger daughter, she dismissed all concern. She was +only a child as yet, wise beyond her years, but too thoroughly immature +to cause any anxiety for some years to come. Meantime she had at first +tolerated and then gently encouraged the eager and obvious anxiety of +Rupert Stillwell to make a footing for himself in the Rectory family. +At the outbreak of the war her antipathy to young Stillwell as a slacker +had been violent. He had not joined up with the first band of ardent +young souls who had so eagerly pointed the path to duty and to glory. +But, when it had been made clear to the public mind that young Stillwell +had been pronounced physically unfit for service and was therefore +prevented from taking his place in that Canadian line which though it +might wear thin at times had never broken, Mrs. Templeton relieved him +in her mind of the damning count of being a slacker. Later, becoming +impressed with the enthusiasm of the young man's devotion to various +forms of patriotic war service at home, she finally, though it must be +confessed with something of an effort, had granted him a place within +the circle of her home. Furthermore, Rupert Stillwell had done extremely +well in all his business enterprises and had come to be recognised as +one of the coming young men of the district, indeed of the Province, +with sure prospects of advancement in public estimation. Hence, the +frequency with which Stillwell's big Hudson Six could be seen parked on +the gravelled drive before the Rectory front door. In addition to this, +Rupert and his Hudson Six were found to be most useful. He had abundance +of free time and he was charmingly ready with his offers of service. Any +hour of the day the car, driven by himself or his chauffeur, was at the +disposal of any member of the Rectory family, a courtesy of which Mrs. +Templeton was not unwilling to avail herself though never with any +loss of dignity but always with appearance of bestowing rather than +of receiving a favour. As to the young ladies, Adrien rarely allowed +herself the delight of a motor ride in Rupert Stillwell's luxurious car. +On the other hand, had her mother not intervened, Patricia would have +indulged without scruple her passion for joy-riding. The car she adored, +Rupert Stillwell she regarded simply as a means to the indulgence of her +adoration. He was a jolly companion, a cleverly humourous talker, and an +unfailing purveyor of bon-bons. Hence he was to Patricia an ever welcome +guest at the Rectory, and the warmth of Patricia's welcome went a long +way to establish his position of intimacy in the family. + +It was not to be supposed, however, that that young lady's gracious +and indeed eager acceptance of the manifold courtesies of the young +gentleman in question burdened her in the very slightest with any sense +of obligation to anything but the most cavalier treatment of him, should +occasion demand. She was unhesitatingly frank and ready with criticism +and challenge of his opinions, indeed he appeared to possess a fatal +facility for championing her special aversions and antagonising her +enthusiasms. Of the latter her most avowed example was Captain Jack, as +she loved to call him. A word of criticism of Captain Jack, her hero, +her knight, sans peur et sans reproche and her loyal soul was aflame +with passionate resentment. + +It so fell on an occasion when young Stillwell was a dinner guest at the +Rectory. + +"Do you know, Patricia," and Rupert Stillwell looked across the dinner +table teasingly into Patricia's face, "your Captain Jack was rather +mixed up in a nice little row to-day?" + +"I heard all about it, Rupert, and Captain Jack did just what I would +have expected him to do." Patricia's unsmiling eyes looked steadily into +the young man's smiling face. + +"Rescued a charming young damsel, eh? By the way, that Perrotte girl has +turned out uncommonly good looking," continued Rupert, addressing the +elder sister. + +"Rescuing a poor little ill-treated boy from the hands of a brutal +bully and the bully's brutal father--" Patricia's voice was coolly +belligerent. + +"My dear Patricia!" The mother's voice was deprecatingly pacific. + +"It is simply true, Mother, and Rupert knows it quite well too, or--" + +"Patricia!" Her father's quiet voice arrested his daughter's flow of +speech. + +"But, Father, everyone--" + +"Patricia!" The voice was just as quiet but with a slightly increased +distinctness in enunciation, and glancing swiftly at her father's face +Patricia recognised that the limits of her speech had been reached, +unless she preferred to change the subject. + +"Yes, Annette has grown very pretty, indeed," said Adrien, taking up +the conversation, "and is really a very nice girl, indeed. She sings +beautifully. She is the leading soprano in her church choir, I believe." + +"Captain Jack Maitland appeared to think her quite charming," said +Rupert, making eyes at Patricia. Patricia's lips tightened and her eyes +gleamed a bit. + +"They were in school together, I think, were they not, Mamma?" said +Adrien, flushing slightly. + +"Of course they were, and so was Rupert, too--" said Patricia with +impatient scorn, "and so would you if you hadn't been sent to England," +she added to her sister. + +"No doubt of it," said Rupert with a smile, "but you see she was +fortunate enough to be sent to England." + +"Blackwater is good enough for me," said Patricia, a certain stubborn +hostility in her tone. + +"I have always thought the Blackwater High School an excellent +institution," said her mother quickly, "especially for boys." + +"Yes, indeed, for boys," replied Stillwell, "but for young ladies--well, +there is something in an English school, you know, that you can't get in +any High School here in Canada." + +"Rot!" ejaculated Patricia. + +"My dear Patricia!" The mother was quite shocked. + +"Pardon me, Mother, but you know we have a perfectly splendid High +School here. Father has often said so." + +Her mother sighed. "Yes, for boys. But for girls, I feel with Rupert +that you get something in English schools that--" She hesitated, looking +uncertainly at her elder daughter. + +"Yes, and perhaps lose something, Mamma," said Adrien quietly. "I mean," +she added hastily, "you lose touch with a lot of things and people, +friends. Now, for instance, you remember when we were all children, +boys and girls together, at the Public School, Annette was one of the +cleverest and best of the lot of us, I used to be fond of her--and the +others. Now--" + +"But you can't help growing up," said Rupert, "and--well, democracy is +all right and that sort of thing, but you must drift into your class you +know. There's Annette, for instance. She is a factory hand, a fine girl +of course, and all that, but--" + +"Oh, I suppose we must recognise facts. Rupert, you are quite right," +said Mrs. Templeton, "there must be social distinctions and there are +classes. I mean," she added, as if to forestall the outburst she saw +gathering behind her younger daughter's closed lips, "we must inevitably +draw to our own set by our natural or acquired tastes and by our +traditions and breeding." + +"All very well in England, Mamma. I suppose dear Uncle Arthur and our +dear cousins would hardly feel called upon to recognise Annette as a +friend." + +"Why should they?" challenged Rupert. + +"My dear Patricia," said her father, mildly patient, "you are quite +wrong. Our people at home, your uncle Arthur, I mean, and your cousins, +and all well-bred folk, do not allow class distinctions to limit +friendship. Friends are chosen on purely personal grounds of real worth +and--well, congeniality." + +"Would Uncle Arthur, or rather, Aunt Alicia have Annette to dinner, for +instance?" demanded Patricia. + +"Certainly not," said her mother promptly. + +"She would not do anything to embarrass Annette," said her father. + +"Oh, Dad, what a funk. That is quite unworthy of you." + +"Would she be asked here now to dinner?" said Rupert. "I mean," he added +in some confusion, "would it be, ah, suitable? You know what I mean." + +"She has been here. Don't you remember, Mamma? She was often here. And +every time she came she was the cleverest thing, she was the brightest, +the most attractive girl in the bunch." Her mother's eyebrows went up. +"In the party, I mean. And the most popular. Why, I remember quite well +that Rupert was quite devoted to her." + +"A mere child, she was then, you know," said Rupert. + +"She is just as bright, just as attractive, as clever now, more so +indeed, as fine a girl in every way. But of course she was not a factory +girl then. That's what you mean," replied Patricia scornfully. + +"She has found her class," persisted Rupert. "She is all you say, but +surely--" + +"Yes, she is working in the new box factory. Her mother, lazy, selfish +thing, took her from the High School." + +"My dear Patricia, you are quite violent," protested her mother. + +"It's true, Mamma," continued the girl, her eyes agleam, "and now she +works in the box factory while Captain Jack works in the planing mill. +She is in the same class." + +"And good friends apparently," said Rupert with a malicious little grin. + +"Why not? We would have Captain Jack to dinner, but not Annette." + +Her father smiled at her. "Well done, little girl. Annette is a fine +girl and is fortunate in her champion. You can have her to dinner any +evening, I am quite sure." + +"Can we, Mamma?" + +"My dear, we will not discuss the matter any further," said her mother. +"It is a very old question and very perplexing, I confess, but--" + +"We don't see Captain Jack very much since his return," said her father, +turning the conversation. "You might begin with him, eh, Patsy?" + +"No," said the girl, a shade falling on her face. "He is always busy. +He has such long hours. He works his day's work with the men and then he +always goes up to the office to his father--and--and--Oh, I don't know, +I wish he would come. He's not--" Patricia fell suddenly silent. + +"Jack is very much engaged," said her mother quietly. + +"Naturally he is tied up, learning the business, I mean," said the elder +sister quietly. "He has little time for mere social frivolities and that +sort of thing." + +"It's not that, Adrien," said Patricia. "He is different since he came +back. I wish--" She paused abruptly. + +"He is changed," said her mother with a sigh. "They--the boys are all +changed." + +"The war has left its mark upon them, and what else can we expect?" said +Dr. Templeton. "One wonders how they can settle down at all to work." + +"Oh, Jack has settled down all right," said Patricia, as if analysing +a subject interesting to herself alone. "Jack's not like a lot of them. +He's too much settled down. What is it, I wonder? He seems to have quit +everything, dancing, tennis, golf. He doesn't care--" + +"Doesn't care? What for? That sounds either as if he were an egotist or +a slacker." Her sister's words rasped Patricia's most sensitive heart +string. She visibly squirmed, eagerly waiting a chance to reply. "Jack +is neither," continued Adrien slowly. "I understand the thing perfectly. +He has been up against big things, so big that everything else seems +trivial. Fancy a tennis tournament for a man that has stared into hell's +mouth." + +"My dear, you are right," said her father. "Patricia is really talking +too much. Young people should--" + +"I know, Daddy--'be seen,'" said the younger daughter, and grinning +affectionately at him she blew him a kiss. "But, all the same, I wish +Captain Jack were not so awfully busy or were a little more keen about +things. He wants something to stir him up." + +"He may get that sooner than he thinks," said Stillwell, "or wishes. I +hear there's likely to be trouble in the mills." + +"Trouble? Financial? I should be very sorry," said Dr. Templeton. + +"No. Labour. The whole labour world is in a ferment. The Maitlands can +hardly expect to escape. As a matter of fact, the row has made a little +start, I happen to know." + +"These labour troubles are really very distressing. There is no end to +them," said Mrs. Templeton, with the resignation one shows in discussing +the inscrutable ways of Providence. "It does seem as if the working +classes to-day have got quite beyond all bounds. One wonders what they +will demand next. What is the trouble now, Rupert? Of course--wages." + +"Oh, the eternal old trouble is there, with some new ones added that +make even wages seem small." + +"And what are these?" enquired Dr. Templeton. + +"Oh, division of profits, share in administration and control." + +"Division of profits in addition to wages?" enquired Mrs. Templeton, +aghast. "But, how dreadful. One would think they actually owned the +factory." + +"That is the modern doctrine, I believe," said Rupert. + +"Surely that is an extreme statement," said Dr. Templeton, in a shocked +voice, "or you are talking of the very radical element only." + +"The Rads lead, of course, but you would be surprised at the demands +made to-day. Why, I heard a young chap last week, a soap-box artist, +denouncing all capitalists as parasites. 'Why should we work for +anyone but ourselves?' he was saying. 'Why don't we take charge of the +factories and run them for the general good?' I assure you, sir, those +were his very words." + +"Really, Rupert, you amaze me. In Blackwater here?" exclaimed Dr. +Templeton. + +"But, my dear papa, that sort of thing is the commonplace of Hyde Park, +you know," said Adrien, "and--" + +"Ah, Hyde Park, yes. I should expect that sort of thing from the Hyde +Park orators. You get every sort of mad doctrine in Hyde Park, as I +remember it, but--" + +"And I was going to say that that sort of thing has got away beyond +Hyde Park. Why, papa dear, you have been so engrossed in your Higher +Mathematics that you have failed to keep up with the times." His eldest +daughter smiled at him and, reaching across the corner of the table, +patted his hand affectionately. "We are away beyond being shocked at +profit sharing, and even sharing in control of administration and that +sort of thing." + +"But there remains justice, I hope," said her father, "and the right of +ownership." + +"Ah, that's just it--what is ownership?" + +"Oh, come, Adrien," said Rupert, "you are not saying that Mr. Maitland +doesn't own his factory and mill." + +"It depends on what you mean by own," said the girl coolly. "You must +not take too much for granted." + +"Well, what my money pays for I own, I suppose," said Rupert. + +"Well," said Adrien, "that depends." + +"My dear Adrien," said her mother, "you have such strange notions. +I suppose you got them in those Clubs in London and from those queer +people you used to meet." + +"Very dear people," said Adrien, with a far away look in her eyes, "and +people that loved justice and right." + +"All right, Ade," said her younger sister, with a saucy grin, "I agree +entirely with your sentiments. I just adore that pale blue tie of yours. +I suppose, now that what's yours is mine, I can preempt that when I +like." + +"Let me catch you at it!" + +"Well done, Patricia. You see the theories are all right till we come to +have them applied all round," said Rupert. + +"We were talking of joint ownership, Pat," said her sister, "the joint +ownership of things to the making of which we have each contributed a +part." + +"Exactly," said Rupert. "I guess Grant Maitland paid his own good money +for his plant." + +"Yes," said Adrien. + +"Yes, and all he paid for he owns." + +"Yes." + +"Well, that's all there is to it." + +"Oh, pardon me--there is a good deal more--" + +"Well, well, children, we shall not discuss the subject any further. +Shall we all go up for coffee?" + +"These are very radical views you are advancing, Adrien," said her +father, rising from his chair. "You must be careful not to say things +like that in circles where you might be taken seriously." + +"Seriously, Daddy? I was never more serious in my life." She put her arm +through her father's. "I must give you some books, some reports to read, +I see," she said, laughing up into his face. + +"Evidently," said her father, "if I am to live with you." + +"I wonder what Captain Jack would think of these views," said Rupert, +dropping into step with Patricia as they left the dining room together. + +"He will think as Adrien does," said Patricia stoutly. + +"Ah, I wouldn't be too sure about that," said Rupert. "You see, it makes +a difference whose ox is being gored." + +"What do you mean?" cried Patricia hotly. + +"Never mind, Pat," said her sister over her shoulder. "I don't think he +knows Captain Jack as we do." + +"Perhaps better," said Rupert in a significant tone. + +Patricia drew away from him. + +"I think you are just horrid," she said. "Captain Jack is--" + +"Never mind, dear. Don't let him pull your leg like that," said her +sister, with a little colour in her cheek. "We know Captain Jack, don't +we?" + +"We do!" said Patricia with enthusiasm. + +"We do!" echoed Rupert, with a smile that drove Pat into a fury. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE + + +There was trouble at the Maitland Mills. For the first time in his +history Grant Maitland found his men look askance at him. For the first +time in his life he found himself viewing with suspicion the workers +whom he had always taken a pride in designating "my men." The situation +was at once galling to his pride and shocking to his sense of fair play. +His men were his comrades in work. He knew them--at least, until these +war days he had known them--personally, as friends. They trusted him and +were loyal to him, and he had taken the greatest care to deal justly +and more than justly by them. No labour troubles had ever disturbed the +relations which existed between him and his men. It was thus no small +shock when Wickes announced one day that a Grievance Committee wished to +interview him. That he should have to meet a Grievance Committee, whose +boast it had been that the first man in the works to know of a grievance +was himself, and that the men with whom he had toiled and shared both +good fortune and ill, but more especially the good, that had befallen +through the last quarter century should have a grievance against +him--this was indeed an experience that cut him to the heart and roused +in him a fury of perplexed indignation. + +"A what? A Grievance Committee!" he exclaimed to Wickes, when the old +bookkeeper came announcing such a deputation. + +"That's what they call themselves, sir," said Wickes, his tone of +disgust disclaiming all association with any such organization. + +"A Grievance Committee?" said Mr. Maitland again. "Well, I'll be! What +do they want? Who are they? Bring them in," he roared in a voice whose +ascending tone indicated his growing amazement and wrath. + +"Come in you," growled Wickes in the voice he generally used for his +collie dog, which bore a thoroughly unenviable reputation, "come on in, +can't ye?" + +There was some shuffling for place in the group at the door, but finally +Mr. Wigglesworth found himself pushed to the front of a committee of +five. With a swift glance which touched "the boss" in its passage and +then rested upon the wall, the ceiling, the landscape visible through +the window, anywhere indeed rather than upon the face of the man against +whom they had a grievance, they filed in and stood ill at ease. + +"Well, Wigglesworth, what is it?" said Grant Maitland curtly. + +Mr. Wigglesworth cleared his throat. He was new at the business and +was obviously torn between conflicting emotions of pride in his present +important position and a wholesome fear of his "boss." However, having +cleared his throat, Mr. Wigglesworth pulled himself together and with a +wave of the hand began. + +"These 'ere--er--gentlemen an' myself 'ave been (h)appinted a +Committee to lay before you certain grievances w'ich we feel to be very +(h)oppressive, sir, so to speak, w'ich, an' meanin' no offence, sir, as +men, fellow-men, as we might say--" + +"What do you want, Wigglesworth? What's your trouble? You have some +trouble, what is it? Spit it out, man," said the boss sharply. + +"Well, sir, as I was a-sayin', this 'ere's a Committee (h)appinted to +wait on you, sir, to lay before you certain facts w'ich we wish you to +consider an' w'ich, as British subjecks, we feel--" + +"Come, come, Wigglesworth, cut out the speech, and get at the things. +What do you want? Do you know? If so, tell me plainly and get done with +it." + +"We want our rights as men," said Mr. Wigglesworth in a loud voice, "our +rights as free men, and we demand to be treated as British--" + +"Is there anyone of this Committee that can tell me what you want +of me?" said Maitland. "You, Gilby, you have some sense--what is the +trouble? You want more wages, I suppose?" + +"I guess so," said Gilby, a long, lean man, Canadian born, of about +thirty, "but it ain't the wages that's eatin' me so much." + +"What then?" + +"It's that blank foreman." + +"Foreman?" + +"That's right, sir." "Too blanked smart!" "Buttin' in like a blank billy +goat!" The growls came in various undertones from the Committee. + +"What foreman? Hoddle?" The boss was ready to fight for his subalterns. + +"No! Old Hoddle's all right," said Gilby. "It's that young smart aleck, +Tony Perrotte." + +"Tony Perrotte!" Mr. Maitland's voice was troubled and uncertain. "Tony +Perrotte! Why, you don't mean to tell me that Perrotte is not a good +man. He knows his job from the ground up." + +"Knows too much," said Gilby. "Wants to run everything and everybody. +You can't tell him anything. And you'd think he was a Brigadier-General +to hear him giving us orders." + +"You were at the front, Gilby?" + +"I was, for three years." + +"You know what discipline is?" + +"I do that, and I know too the difference between a Corporal and a +Company Commander. I know an officer when I see him. But a brass hat +don't make a General." + +"I won't stand for insubordination in my mills, Gilby. You must take +orders from my foreman. You know me, Gilby. You've been long enough with +me for that." + +"You treat a man fair, Mr. Maitland, and I never kicked at your orders. +Ain't that so?" + +Maitland nodded. + +"But this young dude--" + +"'Dude'? What do you mean, 'dude'? He's no dude!" + +"Oh, he's so stuck on himself that he gives me the wearisome willies. +Look here, other folks has been to the war. He needn't carry his chest +like a blanked bay window." + +"Look here, Gilby, just quit swearing in this room." The cold blue eyes +bored into Gilby's hot face. + +"I beg pardon, sir. It's a bad habit I've got, but that--that Tony +Perrotte has got my goat and I'm through with him." + +"All right, Gilby. If you don't like your job you know what you can do," +said Maitland coldly. + +"You mean I can quit?" enquired Gilby hotly. + +"I mean there's only one boss in these works, and that's me. And my +foreman takes my orders and passes them along. Those that don't like +them needn't take them." + +"We demand our rights as--" began Mr. Wigglesworth heatedly. + +"Excuse me, sir. 'A should like to enquir-r-e if it is your-r or-rder-rs +that your-r for-r-man should use blasphemious language to your-r men?" + +The cool, firm, rasping voice cut through Mr. Wigglesworth's sputtering +noise like a circular saw through a pine log. + +Mr. Maitland turned sharply upon the speaker. + +"What is your name, my man?" he enquired. + +"Ma name is Malcolm McNish. 'A doot ye have na har-r-d it. But the name +maitters little. It's the question 'A'm speerin'--asking at ye." + +Here was no amateur in the business of Grievance Committees. His manner +was that of a self-respecting man dealing with a fellow-man on terms of +perfect equality. There was a complete absence of Wigglesworth's noisy +bluster, as also of Gilby's violent profanity. He obviously knew his +ground and was ready to hold it. He had a case and was prepared to +discuss it. There was no occasion for heat or bluster or profanity. He +was prepared to discuss the matter, man to man. + +Mr. Maitland regarded him for a moment or two with keen steady gaze. + +"Where do you work, McNish?" he enquired of the Scot. + +"A'm workin' the noo in the sawmill. A'm a joiner to trade." + +"Then Perrotte is not your foreman?" + +"That is true," said McNish quietly. + +"Then personally you have no grievance against him?" Mr. Maitland had +the air of a man who has scored a bull at the first shot. + +"Ay, A have an' the men tae--the men I represent have--" + +"And you assume to speak for them?" + +"They appoint me to speak for them." + +"And their complaint is--?" + +"Their complaint is that he is no fit to be a foreman." + +"Ah, indeed! And you are here solely on their word--" + +"No, not solely, but pairtly. A know by experience and A hae har-r-d the +man, and he's no fit for his job, A'm tellin' you." + +"I suppose you know the qualifications of a foreman, McNish?" enquired +Mr. Maitland with the suspicion of sarcasm in his voice. + +"Ay, A do that." + +"And how, may I ask, have you come to the knowledge?" + +"A dinna see--I do not see the bearing of the question." + +"Only this, that you and those you represent place your judgment as +superior to mine in the choice of a foreman. It would be interesting to +know upon what grounds." + +"I have been a foreman myself. But there are two points of view in this +question--the point of view of the management and that of the worker. We +have the one point of view, you have the other. And each has its value. +Ours is the more important." + +"Indeed! And why, pray?" + +"Yours has chiefly to do with profits, ours with human life." + +"Very interesting indeed," said Mr. Maitland, "but it happens that +profits and human life are somewhat closely allied--" + +"Aye, but wi' you profits are the primary consideration and humanity the +secondary. Wi' us humanity is the primary." + +"Very interesting, indeed. But I must decline your premise. You are a +new man here and so I will excuse you the impudence of charging me with +indifference to the well-being of my men." + +"You put wur-r-ds in my mouth, Mr. Maitland. A said nae sic thing," +said McNish. "But your foreman disna' know his place, and he must be +changed." + +"'Must,' eh?" The word had never been used to Mr. Maitland since his own +father fifty years before had used it. It was an unfortunate word for +the success of the interview. "'Must,' eh?" repeated Mr. Maitland with +rising wrath. "I'd have you know, McNish, that the man doesn't live that +says 'must' to me in regard to the men I choose to manage my business." + +"Then you refuse to remove yere foreman?" + +"Most emphatically, I do," said Mr. Maitland with glints of fire in his +blue eyes. + +"Verra weel, so as we know yere answer. There is anither matter." + +"Yes? Well, be quick about it." + +"A wull that. Ye dinna pay yere men enough wages." + +"How do you know I don't?" said Mr. Maitland rising from his chair. + +"A have examined certain feegures which I shall be glad to submit tae +ye, in regard tae the cost o' leevin' since last ye fixed the wage. +If yere wage was right then, it's wrang the noo." Under the strain Mr. +Maitland's boring eyes and increasing impatience the Doric flavour +of McNish's speech grew richer and more guttural, varying with the +intensity of his emotion. + +"And what may these figures be?" enquired Mr. Maitland with a voice of +contempt. + +"These are the figures prepared by the Labour Department of your Federal +Government. I suppose they may be relied upon. They show the increased +cost of living during the last five years. You know yeresel' the +increase in wages. Mr. Maitland, I am told ye are a just man, an' we ask +ye tae dae the r-r-right. That's all, sir." + +"Thank you for your good opinion, my man. Whether I am a just man or not +is for my own conscience alone. As to the wage question, Mr. Wickes +will tell you, the matter had already been taken up. The result will be +announced in a week or so." + +"Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir," said Mr. Wigglesworth. "We felt sure +it would only be necessary to point (h)out the right course to you. I +may say I took the same (h)identical (h)attitude with my fellow workmen. +I sez to them, sez I, 'Mr. Maitland--' + +"That will do, Wigglesworth," said Mr. Maitland, cutting him short. +"Have you anything more to say?" he continued, turning to McNish. + +"Nothing, sir, except to express the hope that you will reconsider yere +attitude as regards the foreman." + +"You may take my word for it, I will not," said Mr. Maitland, snapping +his words off with his teeth. + +"At least, as a fair-minded man, you will look into the matter," said +McNish temperately. + +"I shall do as I think best," said Mr. Maitland. + +"It would be wiser." + +"Do you threaten me, sir?" Mr. Maitland leaned over his desk toward the +calm and rugged Scot, his eyes flashing indignation. + +"Threaten ye? Na, na, threats are for bairns. Yere no a bairn, but a man +an' a wise man an' a just, A doot. A'm gie'in' ye advice. That's all. +Guid day." + +He turned away from the indignant Mr. Maitland, put his hat on his +head and walked from the room, followed by the other members of the +Committee, with the exception of Mr. Wigglesworth who lingered with +evidently pacific intentions. + +"This, sir, is a most (h)auspicious (h)era, sir. The (h)age of reason +and justice 'as dawned, an'--" + +"Oh, get out, Wigglesworth. Haven't you made all your speeches yet? The +time for the speeches is past. Good day." + +He turned to his bookkeeper. + +"Wickes, bring me the reports turned in by Perrotte, at once." + +Mr. Maitland's manner was frankly, almost brutally, imperious. It +was not his usual manner with his subordinates, from which it may +be gathered that Mr. Maitland was seriously disturbed. And with good +reason. In the first place, never in his career had one of his men +addressed him in the cool terms of equality which McNish had used with +him in the recent interview. Then, never had he been approached by +a Grievance Committee. The whole situation was new, irritating, +humiliating. + +As to the wages question, he would settle that without difficulty. He +had never skimped the pay envelope. It annoyed him, however, that he had +been forstalled in the matter by this Committee. But very especially he +was annoyed by the recollection of the deliberative, rasping tones of +that cool-headed Scot, who had so calmly set before him his duty. But +the sting of the interview lay in the consciousness that the criticism +of his foreman was probably just. And then, he was tied to Tony Perrotte +by bonds that reached his heart. Had it not been so, he would have made +short work of the business. As it was, Tony would have to stay at all +costs. Mr. Maitland sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed upon the Big +Bluff visible through the window, but his mind lingering over a picture +that had often gripped hard at his heart during the last two years, +a picture drawn for him in a letter from his remaining son, Jack. The +letter lay in the desk at his hand. He saw in the black night that +shell-torn strip of land between the lines, black as a ploughed field, +lurid for a swift moment under the red glare of a bursting shell or +ghastly in the sickly illumination of a Verry light, and over this black +pitted earth a man painfully staggering with a wounded man on his back. +The words leaped to his eyes. "He brought me out of that hell, Dad." He +closed his eyes to shut out that picture, his hands clenched on the arms +of his chair. + +"No," he said, raising his hand in solemn affirmation, "as the Lord God +liveth, while I stay he stays." + +"Come in," he said, in answer to a timid tap at the office door. Mr. +Wickes laid a file before him. It needed only a rapid survey of the +sheets to give him the whole story. Incompetence and worse, sheer +carelessness looked up at him from every sheet. The planing mill was in +a state of chaotic disorganization. + +"What does this mean, Mr. Wickes?" he burst forth, putting his finger +upon an item that cried out mismanagement and blundering. "Here is an +order that takes a month to clear which should be done within ten days +at the longest." + +Wickes stood silent, overwhelmed in dismayed self-condemnation. + +"It seems difficult somehow to get orders through, sir, these days," he +said after a pause. + +"Difficult? What is the difficulty? The men are there, the machines are +there, the material is in the yard. Why the delay? And look at this. +Here is a lot of material gone to the scrap heap, the finest spruce ever +grown in Canada too. What does this mean, Wickes?" he seemed to welcome +the opportunity of finding a scapegoat for economic crimes, for which he +could find no pardon. + +Sheet after sheet passed in swift review under his eye. Suddenly he +flung himself back in his chair. + +"Wickes, this is simply damnable!" + +"Yes, sir," said Wickes, his face pale and his fingers trembling. "I +don't--I don't seem to be able to--to--get things through." + +"Get things through? I should say not," shouted Maitland, glaring at +him. + +"I have tried, I mean I'm afraid I'm--that I am not quite up to it, as I +used to be. I get confused--and--" The old bookkeeper's lips were white +and quivering. He could not get on with his story. + +"Here, take these away," roared Maitland. + +Gathering up the sheets with fingers that trembled helplessly, +Wickes crept hurriedly out through the door, leaving a man behind +him furiously, helplessly struggling in the relentless grip of his +conscience, lashed with a sense of his own injustice. His anger which +had found vent upon his old bookkeeper he knew was due another man, a +man with whom at any cost he could never allow himself to be angry. The +next two hours were bad hours for Grant Maitland. + +As the quitting whistle blew a tap came again to the office door. It was +Wickes, with a paper in his hand. Without a word he laid the paper upon +his chief's desk and turned away. Maitland glanced over it rapidly. + +"Wickes, what does this nonsense mean?" His chief's voice arrested him. +He turned again to the desk. + +"I don't think--I have come to feel, sir, that I am not able for my +job. I do not see as how I can go on." Maitland's brows frowned upon the +sheet. Slowly he picked up the paper, tore it across and tossed it into +the waste basket. + +"Wickes, you are an old fool--and," he added in a voice that grew husky, +"I am another and worse." + +"But, sir--" began Wickes, in hurried tones. + +"Oh, cut it all out, Wickes," said Maitland impatiently. "You know I +won't stand for that. But what can we do? He saved my boy's life--" + +"Yes, sir, and he was with my Stephen at the last, and--" The old man's +voice suddenly broke. + +"I remember, Wickes, I remember. And that's another reason--We must find +another way out." + +"I have been thinking, sir," said the bookkeeper timidly, "if you had a +younger man in my place--" + +"You would go out, eh? I believe on my soul you would. You--you--old +fool. But," said Maitland, reaching his hand across the desk, "I don't +go back on old friends that way." + +The two men stood facing each other for a few minutes, with hands +clasped, Maitland's face stern and set, Wickes' working in a pitiful +effort to stay the tears that ran down his cheeks, to choke back the +sobs that shook his old body as if in the grip of some unseen powerful +hand. + +"We must find a way," said Maitland, when he felt sure of his voice. +"Some way, but not that way. Sit down. We must go through this +together." + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE FOREMAN + + +Grant Maitland's business instincts and training were such as to forbid +any trifling with loose management in any department of his plant. He +was, moreover, too just a man to allow any of his workmen to suffer +for failures not their own. His first step was to get at the facts. His +preliminary move was characteristic of him. He sent for McNish. + +"McNish," he said, "your figures I have examined. They tell me nothing +I did not know, but they are cleverly set down. The matter of wages I +shall deal with as I have always dealt with it in my business. The other +matter--" Mr. Maitland paused, then proceeded with grave deliberation, +"I must deal with in my own way. It will take a little time. I shall not +delay unnecessarily, but I shall accept dictation from no man as to my +methods." + +McNish stood silently searching his face with steady eyes. + +"You are a new man here, and I find you are a good workman," continued +Mr. Maitland. "I don't know you nor your aims and purposes in this +Grievance Committee business of yours. If you want a steady job with a +chance to get on, you will get both; if you want trouble, you can get +that too, but not for long, here." + +Still the Scot held him with grave steady gaze, but speaking no word. + +"You understand me, McNish?" said Maitland, nettled at the man's +silence. + +"Aye, A've got a heid," he said in an impassive voice. + +"Well, then, I hope you will govern yourself accordingly. Good-day," +said Maitland, closing the interview. + +McNish still stood immovable. + +"That's all I have to say," said Maitland, glancing impatiently at the +man. + +"But it's no all A have to say, if ye will pairmit me," answered McNish +in a voice quiet and respectful and apparently, except for its Doric +flavour, quite untouched by emotion of any kind soever. + +"Go on," said Maitland shortly, as the Scot stood waiting. + +"Maister Maitland," said McNish, rolling out a deeper Doric, "ye have +made a promise and a threat. Yere threat is naething tae me. As tae yere +job, A want it and A want tae get on, but A'm a free man the noo an' a +free man A shall ever be. Good-day tae ye." He bowed respectfully to his +employer and strode from the room. + +Mr. Maitland sat looking at the closed door. + +"He is a man, that chap, at any rate," he said to himself, "but what's +his game, I wonder. He will bear watching." + +The very next day Maitland made a close inspection of his plant, +beginning with the sawmill. He found McNish running one of the larger +circular saws, and none too deftly. He stood observing the man for some +moments in silence. Then stepping to the workman's side he said, + +"You will save time, I think, if you do it this way." He seized the +levers and, eliminating an unnecessary movement, ran the log. McNish +stood calmly observing. + +"Aye, yere r-right," he said. "Ye'll have done yon before." + +"You just bet I have," said Maitland, not a little pleased with himself. + +"A'm no saw man," said McNish, a little sullenly. "A dinna ken--I don't +know saws of this sort. I'm a joiner. He put me off the bench." + +"Who?" said Maitland quickly. + +"Yon manny," replied McNish with unmistakable disgust. + +"You were on the bench, eh? What sort of work were you on?" + +"A was daein' a bit counter work. A wasna fast enough for him." + +Mr. Maitland called the head sawyer. + +"Put a man on here for a while, Powell, will you? You come with me, +McNish." + +Together they went into the planing mill. Asking for the foreman he +found that he was nowhere to be seen, that indeed he had not been in the +mill that morning. + +"Show me your work, McNish," he said. + +McNish led him to a corner of the mill where some fine counter work was +in process. + +"That's my work," he said, pointing to a piece of oak railing. + +Maitland, turning the work over in his hands, ran his finger along a +joint somewhat clumsily fitted. + +"Not that," said McNish hastily. "Ma work stops here." + +Again Maitland examined the rail. His experienced eye detected easily +the difference in the workmanship. + +"Is there anything else of yours about here?" he asked. McNish went to +a pile of finished work and from it selected a small swing door +beautifully panelled. Maitland's eye gleamed. + +"Ah, that's better," he said. "Yes, that's better." + +He turned to one of the workmen at the bench near by. + +"What job is this, Gibbon?" he asked. + +"It's the Bank job, I think," said Gibbon. + +"What? The Merchants' Bank job? Surely that can't be. That job was +due two weeks ago." Maitland turned impatiently toward an older man. +"Ellis," he said sharply, "do you know what job this is?" + +Ellis came and turned over the different parts of the work. + +"That's the Merchants' Bank job, sir," he said. + +"Then what is holding this up?" enquired Maitland wrathfully. + +"It's the turned work, I think, sir. I am not sure, but I think I heard +Mr. Perrotte asking about that two or three days ago." Mr. Maitland's +lips met in a thin straight line. + +"You can go back to your saw, McNish," he said shortly. + +"Ay, sir," said McNish, his tone indicating quiet satisfaction. At +Gibbon's bench he paused. "Ye'll no pit onything past him, a doot," he +said, with a grim smile, and passed out. + +In every part of the shop Mr. Maitland found similar examples of +mismanagement and lack of co-ordination in the various departments of +the work. It needed no more than a cursory inspection to convince him +that a change of foreman was a simple necessity. Everywhere he found not +only evidence of waste of time but also of waste of material. It cut him +to the heart to see beautiful wood mangled and ruined. All his life he +had worked with woods of different kinds. He knew them standing in all +their matchless grandeur, in the primeval forest and had followed them +step by step all the way to the finished product. Never without a heart +pang did he witness a noble white pine, God's handiwork of centuries, +come crashing to earth through the meaner growth beneath the chopper's +axe. The only thing that redeemed such a deed from sacrilege, in his +mind, was to see the tree fittingly transformed into articles of beauty +and worth suitable for man's use. Hence, when he saw lying here and +there deformed and disfigured fragments of the exquisitely grained white +spruce, which during the war, he had with such care selected for his +aeroplane parts, his very heart rose in indignant wrath. And filled with +this wrath he made his way to the office and straightway summoned Wickes +and his son Jack to conference. + +"Tony will never make a worker in wood. He cares nothing for it," he +said bitterly. + +"Nor in anything else, Dad," said Jack, with a little laugh. + +"You laugh, but it is no laughing matter," said his father +reproachfully. + +"I am sorry, Father, but you know I always thought it was a mistake to +put Tony in charge of anything. Why, he might have had his commission +if he were not such an irresponsible, downwright lazy beggar. What he +needs, as my Colonel used to profanely say, is 'a good old-fashioned +Sergeant-Major to knock hell out of him'. And, believe me, Tony was a +rattling fine soldier if his officer would regularly, systematically and +effectively expel his own special devil from his system. He needs that +still." + +"What can we do with him? I simply can't and won't dismiss him, as that +infernally efficient and coolheaded Scot demands. You heard about the +Grievance Committee?" + +"Oh, the town has the story with embellishments. Rupert Stillwell took +care to give me a picturesque account. But I would not hesitate, Dad. +Kick Tony a good swift kick once a week or so, or, if that is beneath +your dignity, fire him." + +"But, Jack, lad, we can't do that," said his father, greatly distressed, +"after what--" + +"Why not? He carried me out of that hell all right, and while I live I +shall remember that. But he is a selfish beggar. He hasn't the instinct +for team play. He hasn't the idea of responsibility for the team. He +gets so that he can not make himself do what he just doesn't feel like +doing. He doesn't care a tinker's curse for the other fellows in the +game with him." + +"The man that doesn't care for other fellows will never make a foreman," +said Mr. Maitland decisively. "But can't something be done with him?" + +"There's only one way to handle Tony," said Jack. "I learned that +long ago in school. He was a prince of half-backs, you know, but I had +regularly to kick him about before every big match. Oh, Tony is a fine +sort but he nearly broke my heart till I nearly broke his back." + +"That does not help much, Jack." For the first time in his life Grant +Maitland was at a loss as to how he should handle one of his men. Were +it not for the letter in the desk at his hand he would have made short +work of Tony Perrotte. But there the letter lay and in his heart the +inerasible picture it set forth. + +"What is the special form that Tony's devilment has taken, may I ask?" +enquired Jack. + +"Well, I may say to you, what Wickes knows and has known and has tried +for three months to hide from me and from himself, Tony has made about +as complete a mess of the organization under his care in the planing +mill as can be imagined. The mill is strewn with the wreckage of +unfulfilled orders. He has no sense of time value. To-morrow is as good +as to-day, next week as this week. A foreman without a sense of time +value is no good. And he does not value material. Waste to him is +nothing. Another fatal defect. The man to whom minutes are not potential +gold and material potential product can never hope to be a manufacturer. +If only I had not been away from home! But the thing is, what is to be +done?" + +"In the words of a famous statesman much abused indeed, I suggest, 'Wait +and see.' Meantime, find some way of kicking him into his job." + +This proved to be in the present situation a policy of wisdom. It was +Tony himself who furnished the solution. From the men supposed to be +working under his orders he learned the day following Maitland's visit +of inspection something of the details of that visit. He quickly made +up his mind that the day of reckoning could not long be postponed. None +knew better than Tony himself that he was no foreman; none so well that +he loathed the job which had been thrust upon him by the father of +the man whom he had carried out from the very mouth of hell. It was +something to his credit that he loathed himself for accepting the +position. Yet, with irresponsible procrastination, he put off the day of +reckoning. But, some ten days later, and after a night with some kindred +spirits of his own Battalion, a night prolonged into the early hours of +the working day, Tony presented himself at the office, gay, reckless, +desperate, but quite compos mentis and quite master of his means of +locomotion. + +He appeared in the outer office, still in his evening garb. + +"Mr. Wickes," he said in solemn gravity, "please have your stenographer +take this letter." + +Mr. Wickes, aghast, strove to hush his vibrant tones, indicating in +excited pantomime the presence of the chief in the inner office. He +might as effectively have striven to stay the East wind at that time +sweeping up the valley. + +"Are you ready, my dear?" said Tony, smiling pleasantly at the girl. +"All right, proceed. 'Dear Mr. Maitland:' Got that? 'Conscious of my +unfitness for the position of foreman in--'" + +"Hush, hush, Tony," implored Mr. Wickes. + +Tony waved him aside. + +"What have you got, eh?" + +At that point the door opened and Grant Maitland stepped into the +office. Tony rose to his feet and, bowing with elaborate grace and +dignity, he addressed his chief. + +"Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you, in fact, I wanted to see +you but wishing to save your time I was in the very act of dictating a +communication to you." + +"Indeed, Tony?" said Mr. Maitland gravely. + +"Yes, sir, I was on the point of dictating my resignation of my position +of foreman." + +"Step in to the office, Tony," said Mr. Maitland kindly and sadly. + +"I don't wish to take your time, sir," said Tony, sobered and quieted by +Mr. Maitland's manner, "but my mind is quite made up. I--" + +"Come in," said Mr. Maitland, in a voice of quiet command, throwing open +his office door. "I wish to speak to you." + +"Oh, certainly, sir," answered Tony, pulling himself together with an +all too obvious effort. + +In half an hour Tony came forth, a sober and subdued man. + +"Good-bye, Wickes," he said, "I'm off." + +"Where are you going, Tony?" enquired Wickes, startled at the look on +Tony's face. + +"To hell," he snapped, "where such fools as me belong," and, jamming his +hat hard down on his head, he went forth. + +In another minute Mr. Maitland appeared at the office door. + +"Wickes," he said sharply, "put on your hat and get Jack for me. Bring +him, no matter what he's at. That young fool who has just gone out must +be looked after. The boot-leggers have been taking him in tow. If I had +only known sooner. Did you know, Wickes, how he has been going on? Why +didn't you report to me?" + +"I hesitated to do that, sir," putting his desk in order. "I always +expected as how he would pull up. It's his company, sir. He is not so +much to blame." + +"Well, he would not take anything I had to offer. He is wild to get +away. And unfortunately he has some money with him, too. But get Jack +for me. He can handle him if anybody can." + +Sorely perplexed Mr. Maitland returned to his office. His business sense +pointed the line of action with sunlight clearness. His sense of justice +to the business for which he was responsible as well as to the men +in his employ no less clearly indicated the action demanded. His sane +judgment concurred in the demand of his men for the dismissal of his +foreman. Dismissal had been rendered unnecessary by Tony's unshakable +resolve to resign his position which he declared he loathed and which +he should never have accepted. His perplexity arose from the confusion +within himself. What should he do with Tony? He had no position in his +works or in the office for which he was fit. None knew this better than +Tony himself. + +"It's a joke, Mr. Maitland," he had declared, "a ghastly joke. Everybody +knows it's a joke, that I should be in command of any man when I can't +command myself. Besides, I can't stick it." In this resolve he had +persisted in spite of Mr. Maitland's entreaties that he should give the +thing another try, promising him all possible guidance and backing. But +entreaties and offers of assistance had been in vain. Tony was wild +to get away from the mill. He hated the grind. He wanted his freedom. +Vainly Mr. Maitland had offered to find another position for him +somewhere, somehow. + +"We'll find a place in the office for you," he had pleaded. "I want to +see you get on, Tony. I want to see you make good." + +But Tony was beyond all persuasion. + +"It isn't in me," he had declared. "Not if you gave me the whole works +could I stick it." + +"Take a few days to think it over," Mr. Maitland had pleaded. + +"I know myself--only too well. Ask Jack, he knows," was Tony's bitter +answer. "And that's final." + +"No, Tony, it is not final," had been Mr. Maitland's last word, as Tony +had left him. + +But after the young man had left him there still remained the unsolved +question, What was he to do with Tony? In Mr. Maitland's heart was the +firm resolve that he would not allow Tony to go his own way. The letter +in the desk at his hand forbade that. + +At his wits' end he had sent for Jack. Jack had made a football +half-back and a hockey forward out of Tony when everyone else had +failed. If anyone could divert him from that desperate downward course +to which he seemed headlong bent, it was Jack. + +In a few minutes Wickes returned with the report that on receiving an +account of what had happened Jack had gone to look up Tony. + +Mr. Maitland drew a breath of relief. + +"Tony is all right for to-day," he said, turning to his work and leaving +the problem for the meantime to Jack. + +In an hour Jack reported that he had been to the Perrotte home and had +interviewed Tony's mother. From her he had learned that Tony had left +the town, barely catching the train to Toronto. He might not return for +a week or ten days. He could set no time for it. He was his own master +as to time. He had got to the stage where he could go and come pretty +much as he pleased. The mother was not at all concerned as to these +goings and comings of her son. He had an assured position, all cause for +anxiety in regard to him was at an end. Tony's mother was obviously not +a little uplifted that her son should be of sufficient importance to be +entrusted with business in Toronto in connection with the mill. + +All of which tended little toward relieving the anxiety of Mr. Maitland. + +"Let him take his swing, Dad, for a bit," was Jack's advice. "He will +come back when he is ready, and until then wild horses won't bring him +nor hold him. He is no good for his old job, and you have no other ready +that he will stick at. He has no Sergeant-Major now to knock him about +and make him keep step, more's the pity." + +"Life will be his Sergeant-Major, I fear," said his father, "and a +Sergeant-Major that will exact the utmost limit of obedience or make him +pay the price. All the same, we won't let him go. I can't Jack, anyway." + +"Oh, Tony will turn up, never fear, Dad," said Jack easily. + +With this assurance his father had to content himself. In a fortnight's +time a letter came from Tony to his sister, rosy with the brilliance of +the prospects opening up before him. There was the usual irresponsible +indefiniteness in detail. What he was doing and how he was living Tony +did not deign to indicate. Ten days later Annette had another letter. +The former prospects had not been realised, but he had a much better +thing in view, something more suitable to him, and offering larger +possibilities of position and standing in the community. So much Annette +confided to her mother who passed on the great news with elaborations +and annotations to Captain Jack. To Captain Jack himself Annette gave +little actual information. Indeed, shorn of its element of prophecy, +there was little in Tony's letter that could be passed on. Nor did +Annette drop any hint but that all was quite well with her brother, much +less that he had suggested a temporary loan of fifty dollars but only +of course if she could spare the amount with perfect convenience. After +this letter there was silence as far as Tony was concerned and for +Annette anxiety that deepened into agony as the silence remained +unbroken with the passing weeks. + +With the anxiety there mingled in Annette's heart anger at the +Maitlands, for she blamed them for Tony's dismissal from his position. +This, it is fair to say, was a reflection from her mother's wrath, whose +mind had been filled up with rumours from the mills to the effect that +her son had been "fired." Annette was wise enough and knew her brother +well enough to discredit much that rumour brought to her ears, but she +could not rid herself of the thought that a way might have been found to +hold Tony about the mills. + +"He fired the boy, did the ould carmudgeon," said Madame Perrotte in one +of her rages, "and druv him off from the town." + +"Nonsense, Mother," Annette had replied, "you know well enough Tony +left of his own accord. Why should you shame him so? He went because he +wanted to go." + +This was a new light upon the subject for her mother. + +"Thrue for you, Annette, gurl," she said, "an' ye said it that time. But +why for did he not induce the bye to remain? It would be little enough +if he had made him the Manager of the hull works. That same would never +pay back what he did for his son." + +"Hush, Mother," said Annette, in a shocked and angry voice, "let no one +hear you speak like that. Pay back! You know, Mother, nothing could ever +pay back a thing like that." The anger in her daughter's voice startled +the mother. + +"Oui! by gar!" said Perrotte, who had overheard, with quick wrath. +"Dat's foolish talk for sure! Dere's no man can spik lak dat to me, or I +choke him on his fool t'roat, me." + +"Right you are, mon pere!" said Annette appeasing her father. "Mother +did not think what she was saying." + +"Dat's no bon," replied Perrotte, refusing to be appeased. "Sacre +tonnerre! Dat's one--what you call?--damfool speech. Dat boy Tony he's +carry (h)on hees back his friend, le Capitaine Jack, an' le Capitaine, +he's go five mile for fin' Tony on' de shell hole an' fetch heem to le +docteur and stay wit' him till he's fix (h)up. Nom de Dieu! You pay for +dat! Mama! You mak' shame for me on my heart!" cried the old Frenchman, +beating his breast, while sobs shook his voice. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +FREE SPEECH + + +Fifty years ago Blackwater town was a sawmill village on the Blackwater +River which furnished the power for the first little sawmill set up by +Grant Maitland's father. + +Down the river came the sawlogs in the early spring when the water was +high, to be caught and held by a "boom" in a pond from which they were +hauled up a tramway to the saw. A quarter of a mile up stream a mill +race, tapping the river, led the water to an "overshot wheel" in the +early days, later to a turbine, thus creating the power necessary to +drive the mill machinery. When the saw was still the water overflowed +the "stop-logs" by the "spillway" into the pond below. + +But that mill race furnished more than power to the mill. It furnished +besides much colourful romance to the life of the village youth of those +early days. For down the mill race they ran their racing craft, jostling +and screaming, urging with long poles their laggard flotillas to +victory. The pond by the mill was to the boys "swimming hole" and +fishing pool, where, during the long summer evenings and through the +sunny summer days, they spent amphibious hours in high and serene +content. But in springtime when the pond was black with floating logs +it became the scene of thrilling deeds of daring. For thither came the +lumber-jacks, fresh from "the shanties," in their dashing, multi-colored +garb, to "show off" before admiring friends and sweethearts their skill +in "log-running" and "log-rolling" contests which as the spirit of +venture grew would end like as not in the icy waters of the pond. + +Here, too, on brilliant winter days the life of the village found its +centre of vivid interest and activity. For then the pond would be a +black and glittering surface whereon wheeled and curved the ringing, +gleaming blades of "fancy" skaters or whereon in sterner hours opposing +"shinny" teams sought glory in Homeric and often gory contest. + +But those days and those scenes were now long since gone. The old mill +stood a picturesque ruin, the water wheel had given place to the +steam engine, the pond had shrunk to an insignificant pool where only +pollywogs and minnows passed unadventurous lives, the mill race had +dwindled to a trickling stream grown thick with watercress and yellow +lilies, and what had once been the centre of vigorous and romantic life +was now a back water eddy devoid alike of movement and of colour. + +A single bit of life remained--the little log cottage, once the +Manager's house a quarter of a century ago, still stood away up among +the pines behind the old mill ruin and remote from the streets and homes +of the present town. At the end of a little grassy lane it stood, solid +and square, resisting with its well hewn pinelogs the gnawing tooth of +time. Abandoned by the growing town, forgotten by the mill owner, it was +re-discovered by Malcolm McNish, or rather by his keen eyed old mother +on their arrival from the old land six months ago. For a song McNish +bought the solid little cottage, he might have had it as a gift but that +he would not, restored its roof, cleared out its stone chimney which, +more than anything else, had caught the mother's eye, re-set the window +panes, added a wee cunning porch, gave its facings a coat of paint, +enclosed its bit of flower garden in front and its "kale yaird" in the +rear with a rustic paling, and made it, when the Summer had done its +work, a bonnie homelike spot which caught the eye and held the heart of +the passer-by. + +The interior more than fulfilled the promise of the exterior. The big +living room with its great stone fireplace welcomed you on opening the +porch door. From the living room on the right led two doors, each giving +entrance to a tiny bedroom and flanking a larger room known as "the +Room." + +Within the living room were gathered the household treasures, the Lares +and Penates of the little stone rose-covered cottage "at hame awa' ayont +the sea." On the mantel a solid hewn log of oak, a miracle of broad-axe +work, were "bits o' chiny" rarely valuable as antiques to the knowing +connoisseur but beyond price to the old white-haired lady who daily +dusted them with reverent care as having been borne by her mother from +the Highland home in the far north country when as a bride she came by +the "cadger's cairt" to her new home in the lonely city of Glasgow. Of +that Glasgow home and of her own home later the walls of the log cottage +were eloquent. + +The character giving bit of furniture, however, in the living room was +a book-case that stood in a corner. Its beautiful inlaid cabinet work +would in itself have attracted attention, but not the case but the books +were its distinction. The great English poets were represented there +in serviceable bindings showing signs of use, Shakespeare, Wordsworth, +Coleridge, Browning, Keats, and with them in various editions, Burns. +Beside the poets Robert Louis had a place, and Sir Walter, as well as +Kipling and Meredith and other moderns. But on the shelf that showed +most wear were to be found the standard works of economists of different +schools from the great Adam Smith to Marx and the lot of his imitators +and disciples. This was Malcolm's book-case. There was in another corner +near the fire-place a little table and above it hung a couple of shelves +for books of another sort, the Bible and The Westminster Confession, +Bunyan and Baxter and Fox's Book of Martyrs, Rutherford and McCheyne and +Law, The Ten Years' Conflict, Spurgeon's Sermons and Smith's Isaiah, and +a well worn copy of the immortal Robbie. This was the mother's corner, +a cosy spot where she nourished her soul by converse with the great +masters of thought and of conscience. + +In this "cosy wee hoosie" Malcolm McNish and his mother passed their +quiet evenings, for the days were given to toil, in talk, not to say +discussion of the problems, the rights and wrongs of the working man. +They agreed in much; they differed, and strongly, in point of view. The +mother was all for reform of wrongs with the existing economic system, +reverencing the great Adam Smith. The son was for a new deal, a new +system, the Socialistic, with modifications all his own. All, or almost +all, that Malcolm had read the mother had read with the exception of +Marx. She "cudna thole yon godless loon" or his theories or his works. +Malcolm had grown somewhat sick of Marx since the war. Indeed, the war +had seriously disturbed the foundations of Malcolm's economic faith, and +he was seeking a readjustment of his opinion and convictions, which were +rather at loose ends. In this state of mind he found little comfort from +his shrewd old mother. + +"Y'e have nae anchor, laddie, and ilka woof of air and ilka turn o' the +tide and awa' ye go." + +As for her anchor, she made no bones of announcing that she had +been brought up on the Shorter Catechism and the Confession and in +consequence found a place for every theory of hers, Social and Economic +as well as Ethical and Religious, within the four corners of the mighty +fabric of the Calvinistic system of Philosophy and Faith. + +One of the keen joys of her life since coming to the new country she +found in her discussions with the Rev. Murdo Matheson, whom, after some +considerable hesitation, she had finally chosen to "sit under." The Rev. +Murdo's theology was a little narrow for her. She had been trained in +the schools of the Higher Critics of the Free Kirk leaders at home. +She talked familiarly of George Adam Smith, whom she affectionately +designated as "George Adam." She would wax wrathful over the memory of +the treatment meted out to Robertson Smith by a former generation of +Free Kirk heresy hunters. Hence she regarded with pity the hesitation +with which her Minister accepted some of the positions of the Higher +Critics. Although it is to be confessed that the war had somewhat rudely +shattered her devotion to German theology. + +"What d'ye think o' yere friend Harnack the noo?" her son had jibed at +her soon after the appearance of the great manifesto from the German +professors. + +"What do A think o' him?" she answered, sparring for time. "What do A +think o' him?" Then, as her eye ran over her son's uniform, for he was +on leave at the time, she blazed forth, "A'll tell ye what A think +o' him. A think that Auld Hornie has his hook intil him and the hale +kaboodle o' them. They hae forsaken God and made tae themselves ither +gods and the Almichty hae gi'en them ower tae a reprobate mind." + +But her Canadian Minister's economic positions satisfied her. He had +specialised in Social and Economic Science in his University Course and +she considered him sound "in the main." + +She had little patience with half baked theorists and none at all with +mere agitators. It was therefore with no small indignation that she saw +on a Sunday morning Mr. Wigglesworth making his way up the lane toward +her house door. + +"The Lord be guid tae us!" she exclaimed. "What brings yon cratur +here--and on a Sabbath mornin'? Mind you, Malcolm," she continued in +a voice of sharp decision, "A'll hae nane o' his 'rights o' British +citizens' clack the morn." + +"Who is it, Mother?" enquired her son, coming from his room to look out +through the window. "Oh, dinna fash ye're heid ower yon windbag," he +added, dropping into his broadest Doric and patting his mother on the +shoulder. + +"He disna fash me," said his mother. "Nae fears. But A'll no pairmit +him to brak the Sabbath in this hoose, A can tell ye." None the less she +opened the door to Mr. Wigglesworth with dignified courtesy. + +"Guid mornin', Mr. Wigglesworth," she said cordially. "Ye're airly on +yere way tae the Kirk." + +"Yes--that is--yes," replied Mr. Wigglesworth in some confusion, "I am a +bit (h)early. Fact is, I was (h)anxious to catch Malcolm before 'e +went aht. I 'ave a rather (h)important business on 'and with 'im, very +(h)important business, I might say." + +"'Business,' did ye say, Mr. Wigglesworth?" Mrs. McNish stood facing him +at the door. "Business! On the Lord's Day?" + +Mr. Wigglesworth gaped at her, hat in hand. + +"Well, Mrs. McNish, not (h)exactly business. That is," he said with an +apologetic smile, "(h)it depends, you see, just w'at yeh puts (h)into a +word, Mrs. McNish." + +Mr. Wigglesworth's head went over to one side as if in contemplation of +a new and striking idea. + +"A pit nae meaning into a word that's no in it on its ain accoont," she +replied with uncompromising grimness. "Business is just business, an' my +son diz nae business on the Lord's Day." + +There was no place for casuistry in the old Scotch lady's mind. A thing +was or was not, and there was an end to that. + +"Certainly, Mrs. McNish, certainly! And so sez I. But there might be a +slight difference of (h)opinion between you and I, so to speak, as +to just w'at may constitute 'business.' Now, for (h)instance--" Mr. +Wigglesworth was warming to his subject, but the old lady standing on +her doorstep fixed her keen blue eyes upon him and ruthlessly swept away +all argumentation on the matter. + +"If it is a matter consistent with the Lord's Day, come in; if not, stay +oot." + +"Oh! Yes, thank you. By the way, is your son in, by (h)any chance? +Per'raps 'e's shavin' 'isself, eh?" Mr. Wigglesworth indulged in a +nervous giggle. + +"Shavin' himsel!" exclaimed Mrs. McNish. "On the Sawbath! Man, d'ye +think he's a heathen, then?" Mrs. McNish regarded the man before her +with severity. + +"An 'eathen? Not me! I should consider it an 'eathenish practice to go +dirty of a Sunday," said Mr. Wigglesworth triumphantly. + +"Hoots, man, wha's talkin' about gaein' dirty? Can ye no mak due +preparation on the Saturday? What is yere Saturday for?" + +This was a new view to Mr. Wigglesworth and rather abashed him. + +"What is it, Mother?" Malcolm's voice indicated a desire to appease the +wrath that gleamed in his mother's eye. "Oh, it is Mr. Wigglesworth. +Yes, yes! I want to see Mr. Wigglesworth. Will you come in, Mr. +Wigglesworth?" + +"Malcolm, A was jist tellin' Mr. Wigglesworth--" + +"Yes, yes, I know, Mother, but I want--" + +"Malcolm, ye ken what day it is. And A wull not--" + +"Yes, Mother, A ken weel, but--" + +"And ye ken ye'll be settin' oot for the Kirk in half an oor--" + +"Half an hour, Mother? Why, it is only half past nine--" + +"A ken weel what it is. But A dinna like tae be fashed and flustered in +ma mind on ma way till the Hoose o' God." + +"I shall only require a very few moments, Madam," said Mr. Wigglesworth. +"The matter with w'ich I am (h)entrusted need not take more than a +minute or two. In fact, I simply want to (h)announce a special, a very +special meetin' of the Union this (h)afternoon." + +"A releegious meetin', Mr. Wigglesworth?" enquired Mrs. McNish. + +"Well--not exactly--that is--I don't know but you might call it a +religious meetin'. To my mind, Mrs. McNish, you know--" + +But Mrs. McNish would have no sophistry. + +"Mr. Wigglesworth," she began sternly. + +But Malcolm cut in. + +"Now, Mother, I suppose it's a regular enough meeting. Just wait till I +get my hat, Mr. Wigglesworth. I'll be with you." + +His mother followed him into the house, leaving Mr. Wigglesworth at the +door. + +"Malcolm," she began with solemn emphasis. + +"Now, now, Mother, surely you know me well enough by this time to trust +my judgment in a matter of this kind," said her son, hurriedly searching +for his hat. + +"Ay, but A'm no sae sure o' yon buddie--" + +"Hoot, toot," said her son, passing out. "A'll be back in abundant time +for the Kirk, Mither. Never you fear." + +"Weel, weel, laddie, remember what day it is. Ye ken weel it's no day +for warldly amusement." + +"Ay, Mither," replied her son, smiling a little at the associating of +Mr. Wigglesworth with amusement of any sort on any day. + +In abundance of time Malcolm was ready to allow a quiet, unhurried walk +with his mother which would bring them to the church a full quarter of +an hour before the hour of service. + +It happened that the Rev. Murdo was on a congenial theme and in +specially good form that morning. + +"How much better is a man than a sheep," was his text, from which with +great ingenuity and eloquence he proceeded to develop the theme of the +supreme value of the human factor in modern life, social and industrial. +With great cogency he pressed the argument against the inhuman and +degrading view that would make man a mere factor in the complex problem +of Industrial Finance, a mere inanimate cog in the Industrial Machine. + +"What did you think of the sermon, Mother?" asked Malcolm as they +entered the quiet lane leading home. + +"No sae bad, laddie, no sae bad. Yon's an able laddie, especially on +practical themes. Ay, it was no that bad," replied his mother with +cautious approval. + +"What about his view of the Sabbath?" + +"What about it? Wad ye no lift a sheep oot o' the muck on the Sawbath?" + +"A would, of course," replied Malcolm. + +"Weel, what?" + +"A was jist thinkin' o' Mr. Wigglesworth this morning." + +"Yon man!" + +"You were rather hard on him this morning', eh, Mither?" + +"Hard on him? He's no a sheep, nor in some ways as guid's a sheep, A +grant ye that, but such as he is was it no ma duty to pull him oot o' +the mire o' Sawbath desecration and general ungodliness?" + +"Aw, Mither, Mither! Ye're incorrigible! Ye ought to come to the meeting +this afternoon and give them all a lug out." + +"A wull that then," said his mother heartily. "They need it, A doot." + +"Hoots! Nonsense, Mither!" said her son hastily, knowing well how +thoroughly capable she was of not only going to a meeting of Union +workers but also of speaking her mind if in her judgment they were +guilty of transgressing the Sabbath law. "The meeting will be just as +religious as Mr. Matheson's anyway." + +"A'm no sae sure," said his mother grimly. + +Whether religious in the sense understood by Mrs. McNish, the meeting +was not wanting in ethical interest or human passion. It was a gathering +of the workers in the various industries in the town, Trade Unionists +most of them, but with a considerable number who had never owed +allegiance to any Union and a number of disgruntled ex-Unionists. These +latter were very vociferous and for the most part glib talkers, with +passions that under the slightest pressure spurted foaming to the +surface. Returned soldiers there were who had taken on their old jobs +but who had not yet settled down into the colourless routine of mill and +factory work under the discipline of those who often knew little of +the essentials of discipline as these men knew them. A group of +French-Canadian factory hands, taken on none too willingly in the +stress of war work, constituted an element of friction, for the soldiers +despised and hated them. With these there mingled new immigrants from +the shipyards and factories of the Old Land, all members or ex-members +of Trade Unions, Socialists in training and doctrine, familiar with the +terminology and jargon of those Socialistic debating schools, the Local +Unions of England and Scotland, alert, keen, ready of wit and ready +of tongue, rejoicing in wordy, passionate debate, ready for anything, +fearing nothing. + +The occasion of the meeting was the presence of a great International +Official of the American Federation of Labour, and its purpose to +strengthen International Unionism against the undermining of guerilla +bands of non-Unionists and very especially against the new organizations +emanating from the far West, the One Big Union. + +At the door of the hall stood Mr. Wigglesworth, important, fussy +and unctuously impressive, welcoming, directing, introducing and, +incidentally but quite ineffectively, seeking to inspire with respect +for his august person a nondescript crowd of small boys vainly seeking +entrance. With an effusiveness amounting to reverence he welcomed McNish +and directed him in a mysterious whisper toward a seat on the platform, +which, however, McNish declined, choosing a seat at the side about half +way up the aisle. + +A local Union official was addressing the meeting but saying nothing in +particular, and simply filling in till the main speaker should arrive. +McNish, quite uninterested in the platform, was quietly taking note of +the audience, with many of whom he had made a slight acquaintance. As +his eye travelled slowly from face to face it was suddenly arrested. +There beside her father was Annette Perrotte, who greeted him with a +bright nod and smile. They had long ago made up their tiff. Then McNish +had another surprise. At the door of the hall appeared Captain Jack +Maitland who, after coolly surveying the room, sauntered down the aisle +and took a seat at his side. He nodded to McNish. + +"Quite a crowd, McNish," he said. "I hear the American Johnnie is quite +a spouter so I came along to hear." + +McNish looked at him and silently nodded. He could not understand his +presence at that kind of a meeting. + +"You know I am a Union man now," said Captain Jack, accurately reading +his silence. "Joined a couple of months ago." + +But McNish kept his face gravely non-committal, wondering how it was +that this important bit of news had not reached him. Then he remembered +that he had not attended the last two monthly meetings of his Union, +and also he knew that little gossip of the shops came his way. None +the less, he was intensely interested in Maitland's appearance. He +did Captain Jack the justice to acquit him of anything but the most +honourable intentions, yet he could not make clear to his mind what end +the son of his boss could serve by joining a Labour Union. He finally +came to the conclusion that this was but another instance of an +"Intellectual" studying the social and economic side of Industry from +first-hand observation. It was a common enough thing in the Old Land. +He was conscious of a little contempt for this dilettante sort of Labour +Unionism, and he was further conscious of a feeling of impatience and +embarrassment at Captain Jack's presence. He belonged to the enemy camp, +and what right had he there? From looks cast in their direction it was +plain that others were asking the same question. His thought received a +sudden and unexpected exposition from the platform from no less a person +than Mr. Wigglesworth himself to whom as one of the oldest officials in +Unionised Labour in the town had been given the honour of introducing +the distinguished visitor and delegate. + +In flowing periods and with a reckless but wholly unauthorised +employment of aspirates he "welcomed the (h)audience, (h)especially the +ladies, and other citizens among 'oom 'e was delighted to (h)observe +a representative of the (h)employing class 'oo was for the present 'e +believed one of themselves." To his annoyed embarrassment Captain Jack +found himself the observed of many eyes, friendly and otherwise. "But 'e +would assure Captain Maitland that although 'e might feel as if 'e 'ad +no right to be 'ere--" + +"'Ere! 'Ere!" came a piercing voice in unmistakable approval, +galvanising the audience out of its apathy into instant emotional +intensity. + +"(H)I want most (h)emphatically to (h)assure Captain Maitland," +continued Mr. Wigglesworth, frowning heavily upon the interrupter, "that +'e is as welcome--" + +"No! No!" cried the same Cockney voice, followed by a slight rumbling +applause. + +"I say 'e is," shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, supported by hesitating +applause. + +"No! No! We don't want no toffs 'ere." This was followed by more +definite applause from the group immediately surrounding the speaker. + +Mr. Wigglesworth was much affronted and proceeded to administer a rebuke +to the interrupter. + +"I (h)am surprised," he began, with grieved and solemn emphasis. + +"Mr. Chairman," said the owner of the Cockney voice, rising to his +feet and revealing himself a small man with large head and thin wizened +features, "Mr. Chairman, I rise to protest right 'ere an' naow against +the presence of (h)any representative of the (h)enemy class at--" + +"Aw, shut up!" yelled a soldier, rising from his place. "Throw out the +little rat!" + +Immediately there was uproar. On every side returned soldiers, many of +whom had been in Captain Jack's battalion, sprang up and began moving +toward the little Cockney who, boldly standing his ground, was wildly +appealing to the chair and was supported by the furious cheering of a +group of his friends, Old Country men most of whom, as it turned out, +were of the extreme Socialist type. By this time it had fully been borne +in upon Captain Jack's mind, somewhat dazed by the unexpected attack, +that he was the occasion of the uproar. Rising from his place he tried +vainly to catch the Chairman's attention. + +"Come up to the platform," said a voice in his ear. He turned and saw +McNish shouldering his way through the excited crowd toward the front. +After a moment's hesitation he shrugged his shoulders and followed. The +move caught the eye and apparently the approval of the audience, for it +broke into cheers which gathered in volume till by the time that McNish +and Captain Jack stood on the platform the great majority were wildly +yelling their enthusiastic approval of their action. McNish stood with +his hand raised for a hearing. Almost instantly there fell a silence +intense and expectant. The Scotchman stood looking in the direction of +the excited Cockney with cold steady eye. + +"A'm for freedom! The right of public assembly! A'm feart o' nae enemy, +not the deevil himself. This gentleman is a member of my Union and he +stays r-r-right he-e-r-re." With a rasping roll of his r's he seemed to +be ripping the skin off the little Cockney's very flesh. The response +was a yell of savage cheers which seemed to rock the building and which +continued while Mr. Wigglesworth in overflowing effusiveness first shook +Maitland's limp hand in a violent double-handed pump handle exercise and +then proceeded to introduce him to the distinguished visitor, shouting +his name in Maitland's ear, "Mr 'Oward (H)E. Bigelow," adding with a +sudden inspiration, "(H)Introduce 'im to the (h)audience. Yes! Yes! Most +(h)assuredly," and continued pushing both men toward the front of the +platform, the demonstration increasing in violence. + +"I say, old chap," shouted Captain Jack in the stranger's ear, "I feel +like a fool." + +"I feel like a dozen of 'em," shouted Mr. Bigelow in return. "But," he +added with a slow wink, "this old fool is the daddy of 'em all. Go on, +introduce me, or they'll bust something loose." + +Captain Jack took one step to the front of the platform and held up +his hand. The cheering assumed an even greater violence, then ceased in +sudden breathless silence. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said in a slightly bored voice, "this +gentleman is Mr. Howard E. Bigelow, a representative of the American +Federation of Labour, whom as a member of the Woodworkers' Union, Local +197, I am anxious to hear if you don't mind." + +He bowed to the visitor, bowed to the audience once more swaying under a +tempest of cheers, and, followed by McNish, made his way to his seat. + +From the first moment of his speech Mr. Howard E. Bigelow had to fight +for a hearing. The little Cockney was the centre of a well-organised and +thoroughly competent body of obstructers who by clever "heckling," +by points of order, by insistent questioning, by playing now upon the +anti-American string, now upon the anti-Federation string, by ribald +laughter, by cheering a happy criticism, completely checked every +attempt of the speaker to take flight in his oratory. The International +official was evidently an old hand in this sort of game, but in the +hands of these past masters in the art of obstruction he met more than +his match. Maitland was amazed at his patience, his self-control, his +adroitness, but they were all in vain. At last he was forced to appeal +to the Chairman for British fair play. But the Chairman was helplessly +futile and his futility was only emphasised by Mr. Wigglesworth's +attempts now at browbeating which were met with derision and again at +entreaty which brought only demands for ruling on points of order, till +the meeting was on the point of breaking up in confused disorder. + +"McNish, I think I'll take a hand in this," said Captain Jack in the +Scotchman's ear. "Are you game?" + +"Wait a wee," said McNish, getting to his feet. Slowly he once more +made his way to the platform. As the crowd caught on to his purpose they +broke into cheering. When he reached the side of the speaker he spoke a +word in his ear, then came to the front with his hand held up. There +was instant quiet. He looked coolly over the excited, disintegrating +audience for a moment or two. + +"A belonged tae the Feefty-fir-rst Diveesion," he said in his richest +Doric. "We had a rare time wi' bullies over there. A'm for free speech! +Noo, listen tae me, you Cockney wheedle doodle. Let another cheep out o' +yere trap an' the Captain there will fling ye oot o' this room as we did +the Kayser oot o' France." + +"You said it, McNish," said Maitland, leaping to the aisle. With a roar +a dozen returned men were on their feet. + +"Steady, squad!" rang out Captain Jack's order. "Fall into this aisle! +Shun!" As if on parade the soldiers fell into line behind their captain. + +"Macnamara!" he said, pointing to a huge Irishman. + +"Sir!" said Macnamara. + +"You see that little rat-faced chap?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Take your place beside him." + +With two steps Macnamara was beside his man. + +"Mr. Chairman, I protest," began the little Cockney fiercely. + +"Pass him up," said the Captain sharply. + +With one single motion Macnamara's hand swept the little man out of his +place into the aisle. + +"Chuck him out!" said Captain Jack quietly. + +From hand to hand, with never a pause, amid the jeers and laughter of +the crowd the little man was passed along like a bundle of old rags till +he disappeared through the open door. + +"Who's next?" shouted Macnamara joyfully. + +"As you were!" came the sharp command. + +At once Macnamara stood at attention. + +Captain Jack nodded to the platform. + +"All right," he said quietly. + +Mr. Howard E. Bigelow finished his speech in peace. He made appeal for +the closing up of the ranks of Labour in preparation for the big fight +which was rapidly coming. They had just finished with Kaiserism in +Europe but they were faced with only another form of the same spirit +in their own land. They wanted no more fighting, God knew they had had +enough of that, but there were some things dearer than peace, and Labour +was resolved to get and to hold those things which they had fought for, +"which you British and especially you Canadians shed so much blood to +win. We are making no threats, but we are not going to stand for tyranny +at the hands of any man or any class of men in this country. Only one +thing will defeat us, not the traditional enemies of our class +but disunion in our own ranks due to the fool tactics of a lot of +disgruntled and discredited traitors like the man who has just been +fired from this meeting." He asked for a committee which would take the +whole situation in hand. He closed with a promise that in any struggle +which they undertook under the guidance of their International Officers +the American Federation of Labour to their last dollar would be behind +them. + +Before the formal closing of the meeting Maitland slipped quietly out. +As he reached the sidewalk a light hand touched his arm. Turning he +saw at his elbow Annette, her face aglow and her black eyes ablaze with +passionate admiration. + +"Oh, Captain Jack," she panted, her hands outstretched, "you were just +wonderful! Splendid! Oh! I don't know what to say! I--" She paused in +sudden confusion. A hot colour flamed in her face. Maitland took her +hands in his. + +"Hello, Annette! I saw you there. Why! What's up, little girl?" + +A sudden rush of tears had filled her eyes. + +"Oh, nothing. I am just excited, I guess. I don't know what--" She +pulled her hands away. "But you were great!" She laughed shrilly. + +"Oh, it was your friend McNish did the trick," said Captain Jack. "Very +neat bit of work that, eh? Very neat indeed. Awfully clever chap! Are +you going home now?" + +"No, I am waiting." She paused shyly. + +"Oh, I see!" said Captain Jack with a smile. "Lucky chap, by Jove!" + +"I am waiting for my father," said Annette, tossing her head. + +"Oh, then, if that's all, come along with me. Your father knows his way +about." The girl paused a moment, hesitating. Then with a sudden resolve +she cried gaily, + +"Well, I will. I want to talk to you about it. Oh, I am so excited!" +She danced along at his side in gay abandon. As they turned at the first +corner Maitland glanced over his shoulder. + +"Hello! Here's McNish," he cried, turning about. "Shall we wait for +him?" + +"Oh, never mind Malcolm," cried the girl excitedly, "come along. I don't +want him just now. I want--" She checked herself abruptly. "I want to +talk to you." + +"Oh, all right," said Captain Jack. "He's gone back anyway. Come along +Annette, old girl. I have been wanting to see you for a long time." + +"Well, you see me," said the girl, laughing up into his eyes with a +frank, warm admiration in hers that made Captain Jack's heart quicken a +bit in its steady beat. He was a young man with a normal appreciation of +his own worth. She, young, beautiful, unspoiled, in the innocence of her +girlish heart was flinging at him the full tribute of a warm, generous +admiration with every flash of her black eyes and every intonation of +her voice. Small wonder if Captain Jack found her good to look at and to +listen to. Often during the walk home he kept saying to himself, "Jove, +that McNish chap is a lucky fellow!" But McNish, taking his lonely way +home, was only conscious that the evening had grown chilly and grey. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE DAY BEFORE + + +Business was suspended for the day in Blackwater. That is, men went +through their accustomed movements, but their thoughts were far apart +from the matters that were supposed to occupy their minds during the +working hours of the day. In the offices, in the stores, in the shops, +on the streets, in the schools, in the homes the one, sole topic of +conversation, the one mental obsession was The Great Game. Would the +Maitland Mill Hockey Team pull it off? Blackwater was not a unit in +desiring victory for the Maitland Mill team, for the reason that the +team's present position of proud eminence in the hockey world of Eastern +Ontario had been won by a series of smashing victories over local and +neighbouring rival teams. They had first disposed of that snappy seven +of lightning lightweights, the local High School team, the champions +in their own League. They had smashed their way through the McGinnis +Foundry Seven in three Homeric contests. This victory attracted +the notice of the Blackwater Black Eagles, the gay and dashing +representatives of Blackwater's most highly gilded stratum of society, +a clever, hard-fighting, never-dying group of athletes who, summer and +winter, kept themselves in perfect form, and who had moved rapidly out +of obscurity into the dazzling spotlight of championship over their +district. For the sake of the practice in it and in preparation for +their games in the Eastern Ontario Hockey League, they took on the +Maitland Mill team. + +It took the Black Eagles a full week to recover sufficient control to be +able to speak intelligibly as to the "how" and "why" of that match. For +the Mill team with apparent ease passed in thirteen goals under and over +and behind and beside the big broad goal stick of Bell Blackwood, the +goal wonder of the League; and the single register for the Eagles had +been netted by Fatty Findlay's own stick in a moment of aberration. +During the week following the Black Eagle debacle the various Bank +managers, Law Office managers and other financial magnates of the town +were lenient with their clerks. Social functions were abandoned. The +young gentlemen had one continuous permanent and unbreakable engagement +at the rink or in preparation for it. But all was in vain. The result +of the second encounter was defeat for the Eagles, defeat utter, +unmistakable and inexplicable except on the theory that they had met a +superior team. Throughout the hockey season the Maitland Mill maintained +an unbroken record of victory till their fame flew far; and at the close +of the season enthusiasts of the game had arranged a match between the +winners of the Eastern Ontario Hockey League, the renowned Cornwall team +and the Maitland Mill boys. To-day the Cornwalls were in town, and the +town in consequence was quite unfit for the ordinary duties of life. +The Eagles almost to a man were for the local team; for they were sports +true to type. Not so however their friends and following, who resented +defeat of their men at the hands of a working class team. + +Of course it was Jack Maitland who was responsible for their +humiliation. It was he who had organised his fellow workmen, put them +through a blood and iron discipline, filled them with his own spirit of +irresistible furious abandon in attack which carried them to victory. + +It was an old game with Jack Maitland. When a High School boy he had +developed that spirit of dominating and indomitable leadership that had +made his team the glory of the town. Later by sound and steady grinding +at the game he had developed a style and plan of team play which had +produced a town team in the winter immediately preceding the war that +had won championship honors. Now with his Mill team he was simply +repeating his former achievements. + +It had astonished his friends to learn that Captain Jack was playing +hockey again. He had played no game except in a desultory way since the +war. He had resisted the united efforts of the Eagles and their women +friends to take the captaincy of that team. The mere thought of ever +appearing on the ice in hockey uniform gave him a sick feeling at his +heart. Of that noble seven whom he had in pre-war days led so often to +victory four were still "over there," one was wandering round a +darkened room. Of the remaining two, one Rupert Stillwell was too deeply +engrossed in large financial affairs for hockey. Captain Jack himself +was the seventh, and the mere sight of a hockey stick on a school boy's +shoulder gave him a heart stab. + +It was his loyal pal Patricia Templeton, who gave him the first impulse +toward the game again. To her pleading he had yielded so far as to +coach, on a Saturday afternoon, her team of High School girls to +victory. But it was the Reverend Murdo Matheson who furnished the spur +to conscience that resulted in the organising of the Maitland Mill team. + +"You, John Maitland, more than any of us and more than all of us +together can draw these lads of yours from the pool rooms and worse," +the Reverend Murdo had said one day in early winter. + +"Great Scott, Padre"--the Reverend Murdo had done his bit +overseas--"what are you giving me now?" + +"You, more than any or all of us, I am saying," repeated the minister +solemnly. "For God's sake, man, get these lads on the ice or anywhere +out-of-doors for the good of their immortal souls." + +"Me! And why me, pray?" Captain Jack had asked. "I'm no uplifter. Why +jump on me?" + +"You, because God has bestowed on you the gift to lead men," said the +minister with increasing solemnity. "A high gift it is, and one for +which God will hold you responsible." + +That very night, passing by the Lucky Strike Pool Rooms, Captain Jack +had turned in to find a score and more of youths--many of them from the +mills--flashing their money with reckless freedom in an atmosphere thick +with foul tobacco-smoke and reeking with profane and lewd speech. On +reaching his home that night Maitland went straight to the attic and dug +up his hockey kit. Before he slept he had laid his plans for a league +among the working lads in the various industries in the town. + +It was no easy task to force these men into training habits, to hold +them to the grind, to discipline them into self-control in temper and +in desire. It was of vast assistance to him that three of his seven +were overseas men, while some dozen or so of the twenty in the club were +returned soldiers. It was part of his discipline that his team should +never shirk a day's work for the game except on the rare occasions +when they went on tour. Hence the management in the various mills +and factories, at first hostile and suspicious, came to regard these +athletic activities on the part of their employees with approval and +finally came to give encouragement and support to the games. + +To-day was a half holiday for the Maitland Mills and the streets were +noticeably full of the men and their sweethearts and wives in their +Sunday clothes. Not the team, however. Maitland knew better than that. +He took his men for a run in the country before noon, bringing them +home in rich warm glow. Then after a bath and a hard rubdown they dined +together at the mill and then their Captain ordered them home to sleep, +forbidding them the streets till they were on their way to the game. + +On his way home Captain Jack was waylaid by his admirer and champion, +Patricia. She, standing in front of his car, brought him to a halt. + +"I have not even seen you for a whole week," she complained, getting in +beside him, "and your phone is always busy in the evening. Of course no +one can get you during the day. And I do want to know how the team is. +Oh! do tell me they are fit for the game of their lives! Are they every +one fit?" + +"Fit and fine." + +"And will they win?" + +"Sure thing," said Captain Jack quietly. + +"Oh, I hope you are right. But you are so sure," exclaimed his +companion. "The Cornwalls are wonderful, Rupert says." + +"He would." + +"Oh! I forgot you don't think much of Rupert," sighed Patricia. + +"I haven't time, you see," answered Captain Jack gravely. + +"Oh, you know what I mean. It is a pity, too, for he is really very +nice. I mean he is so good to me," sighed Patricia again. + +"Don't sigh, Patsy, old girl. It really isn't worth it, you know. How is +the supply of choc's keeping up?" + +"Now you are thinking me a pig. But tell me about your men. Are they +really in form?" + +"Absolutely at the peak." + +"And that darling Fatty Findlay. I do hope he will not lose his head and +let a goal in. He is perfectly adorable with that everlasting smile of +his. I do hope Fatty is at the peak, too. Is he, really?" The anxiety in +Patricia's tone was more than painful. + +"Dear Patsy, he is right at the pinnacle." + +"Captain Jack, if you don't win to-night I shall--well, I shall just +weep my eyes out." + +"That settles it, Pat. We shall win. We can't--I can't spare those +lovely eyes, you know," said Captain Jack, smiling at her. + +One by one Captain Jack's team were passed in review--the defence, +Macnamara and "Jack" Johnson, so called for his woolly white head; +"Reddy" Hughes, Ross, "Snoopy" Sykes, who with Captain Jack made the +forward line, all were declared to be fit to deliver the last ounce in +their bodies, the last flicker in their souls. + +"Do you know, Captain Jack," said Patricia gravely, "there is one change +you ought to make in your forward line." + +"Yes! What is that, Pat?" asked Captain Jack, with never a suggestion of +a smile. + +"I would change Snoopy for Geordie Ross. You know Geordie is a little +too careful, and he is hardly fast enough for you. Now you and Snoopy on +left wing would be oh! perfectly wonderful." + +"Patsy, you are a wizard!" exclaimed Captain Jack. "That very change has +been made and the improvement is unbelievable. We are both left-handers +and we pull off our little specialties far more smoothly than Geordie +and I could. You have exactly hit the bull. You watch for that back +of the goal play to-night. Well, here we are. You have good seats, I +understand." + +"Oh, yes. Rupert, you see, as patron of the Eagles was able to get the +very best. But won't you come in and see mother? She is really quite +worked up over it, though of course she couldn't bear to go." + +Captain Jack checked the refusal on his lips. + +"Yes, I will go in for a few minutes," he said gravely. "No! Your mother +would not--could not come, of course." + +There flashed before his mind a picture from pre-war days. The rink +packed with wildly excited throngs and in a certain reserved section +midway down the side the Templeton-Maitland party with its distinguished +looking men and beautiful women following with eager faces and shining +eyes the fortunes of their sons in the fight before them. The flash +of that picture was like a hand of ice upon his heart as Captain Jack +entered the cosy living room. + +"Here he is, Mamma!" cried Patricia as she ushered her hero into the +room with a sweeping gesture. "And he brings the most cheering news. +They are going to win!" + +"But how delightful!" exclaimed Adrien coming from the piano where she +had been playing, with Rupert Stillwell turning her music for her. + +"I suppose upon the best authority," said Stillwell, grinning at +Patricia. + +"We are so glad you found time to run in," said Mrs. Templeton. "You +must have a great deal to say to your team on the last afternoon." + +"I'm glad I came too, now," said Captain Jack, holding the fragile hand +in his and patting it gently. "I am afraid Patricia is responsible for +my coming in. I don't really believe I could have ventured on my own." + +A silence fell on the company which none of them seemed able to break. +Other days were hard upon them. In this very room it was that that +other seven were wont to meet for their afternoon tea before their great +matches. + +Mrs. Templeton, looking up at Jack, found his eyes fixed upon her and +full of tears. With a swift upward reach of her arms she caught him and +drew his head to her breast. + +"I know, Jack dear," she said, with lips that quivered piteously. For a +moment or two he knelt before her while she held him in a close embrace. +Then he gently kissed her cheek and rose to his feet. + +"Give him some tea, Adrien," she said, making a gallant struggle to +steady her voice, "a cup of tea--and no cake. I remember, you see," she +added with a tremulous smile. + +Adrien came back quickly from the window. + +"Yes! a fresh cup!" she cried eagerly, "and a sandwich. You, Pat, +get the sandwiches. No cake. We must do nothing to imperil the coming +victory." + +"You have a wonderful team, Jack, I hear," said her mother. "Come and +sit here beside me and tell me about them. Patricia has been keeping me +informed, but she is not very coherent at times. Of course, I know about +your wonderful goal keeper Findlay, is it not?" And the gentle little +lady kept a stream of conversation going, for she saw how deeply moved +Maitland was. It was his first visit to the Rectory since he had taken +up the game again, and the rush of emotion released by the vivid memory +of those old happy days when that jolly group of boys had filled this +familiar room with their noisy clatter wellnigh overcame him. + +For a minute or two he fussed with the tea things till he could master +his voice, then he said very quietly: + +"They are very decent chaps--really very good fellows and they have +taken their training extraordinarily well. Of course, Macnamara and +Johnson were in my old company, and that helps a lot." + +"Yes, I remember Macnamara quite well. He is a fine big Irishman." + +"Fancy you remembering him, Mrs. Templeton," said Captain Jack. + +"Of course, I remember him. He is one of our boys." + +"Let's see, he is one of your defence, isn't he?" said Stillwell, who +had felt himself rather out of the conversation. Maitland nodded. The +presence of Stillwell in that room introduced a painful element. Once he +had been one of the seven and though never so intimately associated with +the Rectory life as the others, yet at all team gatherings he had had +his place. But since the war Maitland had never been able to endure his +presence in that room. To-day, with the memory of those old thrilling +days pressing hard upon his heart, he could not bear to look upon a man, +once one of them, now forever an outsider. The tea coming in brought to +Maitland relief. + +"Ah, here you are," he cried anticipating Stillwell in relieving Adrien +of part of her load. "You are a life saver. Tea is the thing for this +hour." + +"Three lumps, is it not?" said the girl, smiling at him. "You see, I +remember, though you really don't deserve it. And here is Pat with the +sandwiches." + +"Yes! a whole plate for yourself, Captain Jack," said Patricia. "Come +and sit by me here." + +"No indeed!" said her sister with a bright glow on her cheeks. "Jack is +going to sit right here by the tea-pot, and me," she added, throwing him +a swift glance. + +"No! you are both wrong, children," said their mother. "Jack is coming +to sit beside me. He's my boy this afternoon." + +"Mother, we will all share him," said Patricia, placing chairs near her +mother. "I must talk about the match, I simply must." + +A shadow for a moment wiped the brightness from the face and eyes of +the elder sister, but yielding to her mother's appeal, she joined the +circle, saying to Maitland, + +"I don't believe you want to talk about the match, do you? That is not +supposed to be good psychology before a match. What you really want is a +good sleep. Isn't that right?" + +"He has just sent his men off to bed, I know," said Patricia, "and we +will send him off when he has had his tea." + +"I am so glad you are playing again," said Mrs. Templeton to Maitland +as he sat down by her side. "You need more recreation than you have been +taking, I believe." + +A shadow crossed Maitland's face. + +"I don't believe I need recreation very much, but these chaps of mine +do," he said simply. + +"The workmen, you mean!" + +"Yes. They lead rather a dull life, you know. Not much colour. A pool +room on the whole has rather a rotten effect upon a chap who has been +nine or ten hours indoors already and who sticks at the same thing day +in and day out for months at a time." + +"Ah, I see. You mean you took up hockey for--ah--to help--" + +"Well, I don't want to pose as a workingman's advocate and that sort of +thing. But really he has a slow time." + +"Then, why doesn't he get busy and do something for himself," broke in +Stillwell, impatiently. "The Lord knows he is getting most of the money +these days and has more spare time than anyone else in the community." + +But Maitland ignored him, till Patricia intervened. + +"Tell me about that," she demanded. + +"Look here!" said her sister. "You are not going to get Jack into a +labour controversy this afternoon. But I would just like to ask you, +Pat, how keen you'd be on organising and conducting a Literary and +Debating Society after you had put in not five and a half hours' +lessons, but eight or nine hours'! It would take some doing, eh? But +let's cut out the labour trouble. It is nearly time for his sleep, isn't +it?" + +"Is it, Captain Jack? If so, we won't keep you a minute," said Patricia +anxiously. "No, mother! you must not keep him. He must be on tip-toe +to-night." + +Captain Jack rose. "Patricia would make an ideal trainer," he said. "I +fear I must really go. I am awfully glad to have come in and seen you +all. Somehow I feel a whole lot better." + +"And so do we, Jack," said the old lady in a wistful voice. "Won't you +come again soon?" + +Maitland hesitated a moment, glancing at Adrien. + +"Oh, do!" said the girl, with a little colour coming into her face. "It +has been a little like old times to see you this way." + +"Yes, hasn't it?" said Stillwell. "Awfully jolly." + +Maitland stiffened and turned again to the old lady whose eyes were +turned on him with sad entreaty. + +"Yes, I shall come to see you," said Maitland, bowing over her hand in +farewell. + +"We shall expect you to come and see us to-night at the match, remember, +Captain Jack," said Patricia, as he passed out of the room. "Now be sure +to go and have your sleep." + +But there was no sleep that afternoon for Captain Jack. On his way +through the town he was halted by McNish. + +"The boys want to see you," he said briefly. + +"What boys? What do you mean, McNish?" + +"At the rooms. Will you come down now?" + +"Now? I can't come now, McNish. I have to be on the ice in three hours +and I must get a little rest. What's up, anyway? Tell them I'll see them +to-morrow." + +"No! they want you now!" said McNish firmly. "I would advise that you +come." + +"What do you mean, McNish? Well, get in here and I'll go to see them." +McNish got into the car. "Now, what's all the mystery?" + +"Better wait," said McNish, grimly. + +"Well, it is a dog's trick," said Maitland wrathfully, "to get on to a +chap before a big match like this." + +In the Union Committee rooms a group of men were awaiting them, among +them Mr. Wigglesworth and the little cockney who had made himself so +obnoxious at the public meeting. + +"What's all this tomfoolery, Wigglesworth?" demanded Captain Jack, +striding in among them. + +"(H)excuse me," said the little cockney. "You are a member of the +Woodworkers' Union I (h)understand." + +"Who the devil are you, may I ask?" said Maitland in a rage. + +"(H)allow me," said Mr. Wigglesworth. "Mister Simmons, Mr. Maitland--Mr. +Simmons is our new secretary, (h)elected last meetin'." + +"Well, what do you want of me?" demanded Maitland. "Don't you know I am +tied up this afternoon?" + +"Tied (h)up?" asked Simmons coolly, "'ow?" + +"With the match, confound you." + +"Oh, the match! And w'at match may that be? (H)Anythin' to do with your +Union?" + +Maitland glared at him, too dumfounded to speak. + +"You see, Mr. Maitland," began Mr. Wigglesworth in a hurried and +apologetic manner. + +"'Ere! you keep aht o' this," said Simmons sharply, "this 'ere's my job. +I shall tell Brother Maitland all that is necessary." + +"I was only going to (h)explain--" began Mr. Wigglesworth. + +"Naw then! IS this your job or mine? Was you (h)appointed or was I? +When I find myself (h)unable to discharge my dooty to the Union I might +per'aps call on you, Brother Wigglesworth; but until I find myself +in that situation I 'ope you will refrain from shovin' in your 'orn." +Brother Simmons' sarcasm appeared to wither Brother Wigglesworth into +silence. + +"Naw then, Brother Maitland, we shall get (h)on." + +Maitland glanced round on the group of half a dozen men. Some of them he +knew; others were strangers to him. + +"I don't know what the business is, gentlemen," he said, curbing his +wrath, "but I want to know if it can't wait till to-morrow? You know our +boys are going on the ice in a couple of hours or so--" + +"Goin' on the (h)ice! Goin' on the (h)ice! W'at's that to do with Union +business?" snarled Simmons. "This 'ere's no silly kids' gaime! It's a +man's work we ave in 'and, if you don't want to do the business to w'ich +you are (h)appointed w'y just say so and we shall know 'ow to (h)act. +There 'as been too much o' this gaime business to suit me. If we are men +let us (h)act like men." + +"Better get on wi' it," said McNish curtly. + +"I shall get on w'en I am good and ready, Brother McNish," answered +Simmons. + +"All r-r-right, brother, but A doot ye're oot o' order. Who is the +chairman o' this Committee?" asked McNish calmly. + +"Brother Phillips," answered two or three voices. + +"All right. I suggest you proceed regularly and call the meeting to +order," said McNish quietly. Simmons, recognising that it was Greek +meeting Greek, agreed to this. + +Clumsily and hesitatingly Brother Phillips began stating the business of +the Committee. He had not gone far before Simmons interrupted. + +"Mr. Chairman, with your permission I would just like to say that the +resolution passed at the representative joint meetin' of the Maitland +Mills and Box Factory (h)employees last night will sufficiently +(h)explain the (h)object of this meetin' 'ere." Brother Simmons' tone +suggested infinite pity for the lumbering efforts of the chairman. + +"Yes, I guess it will," said the chairman, blushing in his confusion. +Brother Phillips was new to his position and its duties. + +"I would suggest that that resolution be read," said Brother Simmons, +the pity in his tone hardly veiling his contempt. + +"Yes! Yes! Of course!" said Brother Phillips hurriedly. "Eh--would you +please read it, Mr.--that is--Brother Simmons?" + +With great show of deliberation and of entire mastery of the situation +Mr. Simmons produced a Minute Book and began: + +"Mr. Chairman and brothers, I may say that this 'ere resolution was +passed at a joint representative meetin' of all the (h)employees of the +Maitland Company--" + +"There is no sich company, Mr. Chairman," said McNish. "A say let us +hear the resolution. We'll hear the speech afterwards if we must." +It was again Greek meeting Greek, and the little man turned with a +sarcastic smile to McNish. + +"I suppose Brother McNish is (h)anxious to get ready for this gaime +we've bin 'earing abaht. I should just like to remind 'im that we 'ave +a bigger gaime on 'and, if 'e wants to get into it. Personally I +don't 'ave no use for these 'ere gaimes. I 'ave seen the same kind of +capitalistic dodge to distract the workin' man's (h)attention from 'is +real gaime in life. These circumventions--" + +"Maister Chair-r-man! A rise--" + +"Mr. Chairman, I 'ave the floor and if Brother McNish knows (h)anythink +abaht constitootional proceedin's--" + +"Maister Chair-r-man--Maister-r Chair-r-r-man!" Brother McNish's Doric +was ominously rasping. "A rise tae a pint of or-r-de-r-r. And Brother +Simmons, who claims to be an expert in constitutional law and procedure +knows I have the floor. Ma pint of order is this, that there is no +business before the meeting and as apparently only aboot half the +members are absent--" + +"And 'oo's fault is that? 'E was to get them 'isself," shouted Mr. +Simmons. + +"A searched the toon for them but cudna find them, but as A was +sayin'--as the secretary has no business tae bring before the meeting +but a wheen havers, A move we adjourn tae tomorrow at 12:30 p. m. in +this place, and I believe that as Brither Maitland is also a member o' +this committee he will second the motion." + +Maitland, not knowing in the least what the whole thing was about, but +seeing a way out of the present mix-up, promptly seconded the motion. + +"Mr. Chairman!" shouted Simmons. "I am prepared to--" + +"Maister Chair-r-man, A need not remind you that there is no discussion +on a motion to adjourn." + +"That is quite right," said the chairman, in whose memory by some +obscure mental process this fact seemed to have found a lodging. + +"It is moved that this committee do now adjourn." + +"Mr. Chairman! I protest," shrieked Brother Simmons frantically. + +"Ay, he's a grand protester!" said Brother McNish. + +The motion was carried by a majority of one, Brothers Wigglesworth, +McNish and Maitland voting in the affirmative. + +"Traitors!" shrieked Brother Simmons. "Capitalistic traitors!" + +"Hoot mon! Ye're no in Hyde Park. Save yere breath for yere porritch the +morn--" said McNish, relaxing into a grim smile as he left the rooms. + +"We'll get 'im," said Simmons to his ally and friend. "'E's in with that +there young pup. 'E knows 'ow to work 'im and 'e'd sell us all up, 'e +would." Brother Simmons' brand of profanity strongly savoured of the +London pavements in its picturesque fluency. + +"Get in here, McNish," said Maitland, who was waiting at the door. With +some hesitation McNish accepted the invitation. + +"Now, what does this mean?" said Maitland savagely, then checking his +rage, "but I ought to thank you for getting me out of the grip of that +frantic idiot. What is this fool thing?" + +"It's nae that," said McNish shortly. "It is anything but that. But I +grant ye this was no time to bring it on. That was beyond me. A doot yon +puir cratur had a purpose in it, however. He disna--does not think +much of these games of yours. But that's anither--another"--McNish was +careful of his speech--"matter." + +"But what in--" + +"I am just telling you. There is a strong, a very strong movement under +way among the unions at present." + +"A movement? Strike, do you mean?" + +"It may be, or worse." McNish's tone was very grave. "And as a good +union man they expect your assistance." + +"Wages again?" + +"Ay, and condeetions and the like." + +"But it is not six months since the last agreement was signed and that +agreement is running still." + +"Ay, it is, but condeetions, conditions have changed since that date," +said McNish, "and there must be readjustment--at least, there is a +feeling that way." + +"Readjustment? But I have had no hint of this in our meetings. This has +not come up for discussion." + +A gentle pity smiled from the rugged face of the man beside him. + +"Hardly," he said. "It's no done that way." + +They came to McNish's door. + +"Will you come in?" he said courteously. A refusal was at Maitland's +lips when the door was opened by an old lady in a white frilled cap and +without being able to explain how it came about he found himself in the +quaintly furnished but delightfully cosy living-room, soaking in the +comfort of a great blazing fire. + +"This is really solid comfort," he said, spreading his hands to the +glowing pine slabs. + +"Ay, ye need it the day. The fire cheers the heart," said the old lady. + +"But you don't need it for that, Mrs. McNish," said her visitor, smiling +at the strong, serene face under the white frilled cap. + +"Do I not then? An' what aboot yersel'?" The keen grey eye searched his +face. Maitland was immediately conscious of a vast dreariness in his +life. He sat silent looking into the blazing fire. + +"Ay," continued the old lady, "but there are the bright spots tae, an' +it's ill tae glower at a cauld hearth stone." Maitland glanced quickly +at the shrewd and kindly face. What did she know about him and his life +and his "cauld hearth stone"? So he said nothing but waited. Suddenly +she swerved to another theme. + +"Malcolm," she said, "have ye secured the tickets for the match?" + +"Aw, mither, now it is the terrible auld sport ye are. She drags me out +to all these things." His eyes twinkled at Maitland. "I can't find time +for any study." + +"Hoots ye and ye're study. A doot a rale heartening scramble on the ice +wad dae ye mair guid than an oor wi' yon godless Jew buddie." + +"She means Marx, of course," said McNish, in answer to Maitland's look +of perplexity. "She has no use for him." + +"But the tickets, Malcolm," insisted his mother. + +"Well, mither, A'll confess I clean forgot them. Ye see," he hurried to +say, "A was that fashed over yon Committee maitter--" + +"Committee maitter!" exclaimed the old lady indignantly. "Did I not +tell ye no to heed yon screamin' English cratur wi' his revolutionary +nonsense?" + +"She means Simmons," interjected Malcolm with a little smile. "He means +well, mither, but A'm vexed aboot the tickets." + +"Mrs. McNish," said Maitland, "I happen to have two tickets that I can +let you have." For an instant she hesitated. + +"We can find a way in, I think, Mr. Maitland," said Malcolm, +forestalling his mother's answer. But with simple dignity his mother put +him aside. + +"A shall be verra pleased indeed to have the tickets, provided you can +spare them, Mr. Maitland. Never mind, noo, Malcolm. A ken well +what ye're thinkin'. He's gey independent and his mind is on thae +revolutionary buddies o' his. A'm aye tellin' him this is nae land for +yon nonsense. Gin we were in Rooshie, or Germany whaur the people have +lived in black slavery or even in the auld land whaur the fowk are +haudden doon wi' generations o' class bondage, there might be a chance +for a revolutionary. But what can ye dae in a land whaur the fowk are +aye climbin' through ither, noo up, noo down, noo maister, noo man? +Ye canna make Canadians revolutionaries. They are a' on the road to be +maisters. Malcolm is a clever loon but he has a wee bee in his bonnet." +The old lady smiled quizzically at her big, serious-faced son. + +"Noo, mither, ye're just talkin' havers," he said. "My mother is as +great a Socialist as I am." + +"Ay, but A keep ma heid." + +"That ye do, mither. Ye're gey cannie," replied her son, shaking his +head, and so they passed the word to and fro, and Maitland sat listening +to the chat. The delightful spirit of camaraderie between mother and son +reminded him of a similar relationship between mother and sons in his +own home in pre-war days. He could not tear himself away. It was well on +to his dinner hour before he rose to go. + +"You have given me a delightful hour, Mrs. McNish," he said as he shook +hands. "You made me think of my own home in the old days,--I mean before +the war came and smashed everything." The old lady's eyes were kindly +scanning his face. + +"Ay, the war smashed yere hame?" Maitland nodded in silence. + +"His brither," said Malcolm, quietly. + +"Puir laddie," she said, patting his hand. + +"And my mother," added Maitland, speaking with difficulty, "and that, of +course, meant our home--and everything. So I thank you for a very happy +hour," he added with a smile. + +"Wad ye care to come again?" said the old lady with a quiet dignity. +"We're plain fowk but ye'll be always welcome." + +"I just will, Mrs. McNish. And I will send you the tickets." + +"Man! I wish ye grand luck the night. A grand victory." + +"Thank you. We are going to make a try for it," said Maitland. "You must +shout for us." + +"Ay, wull I," she answered grimly. And she kept her word for of all the +company that made up the Maitland party, none was more conspicuously +enthusiastic in applause than was a white-haired old lady in a +respectable black bonnet whose wild and weird Doric expletives and +exclamations were the joy of the whole party about her. + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE NIGHT OF VICTORY + + +It was an hour after the match. They were gathered in the old rendezvous +of the hockey teams in pre-war days. And they were all wildly excited +over the Great Victory. + +"Just think of it, Mamma, dear," Patricia shouted, pirouetting now on +one foot and then on the other, "Eight to six! Oh, it is too glorious to +believe! And against that wonderful team, the Cornwalls! Now listen to +me, while I give you a calm and connected account of the game. I shall +always regret that you were not present, Mamma. Victory! And at half +time we were down, five to two! I confess disaster and despair stared me +in the face. And we started off so gloriously! Captain Jack and Snoopy +in the first five minutes actually put in two goals, with that back goal +play of theirs. You know, I explained it to you, Mamma." + +"Yes, dear, I know," said her mother, "but if you will speak a little +more quietly and slowly--" + +"I will, Mamma," said her daughter, sitting down with great +deliberation, in front of her. "I will explain to you again that 'round +the goal' play." + +"I am afraid, my dear, that I could hardly grasp just what you mean." + +"Well, never mind, Mamma. It is a particular and special play that +Captain Jack worked out. They rush down to the goal and instead of +trying to shoot, the one with the puck circles round the back and +delivers the puck immediately in front of the goal, where another takes +and slips it in. Two goals in about five minutes, wasn't it, Hugh?" + +"About eight minutes, I should say," replied Hugh Maynard, the big +Captain of the Eagles. + +"Well, eight minutes," continued Patricia, taking up the tale, "and then +they began the roughhouse business. Jumbo Larson--a terribly big Swede, +Mamma--put it all over little Snoopy. Chucked him about, wiped the ice +with him!" + +"My dear!" exclaimed her mother. + +"Well, you know what I mean. A great big, two-hundred-pound monster, who +simply threw Snoopy and Georgie Ross all about the rink. It took Captain +Jack all his time to stand up against him. And then they ran in goals +at a perfectly terrific rate. Two--three--four--five! And only Fatty +Findlay's marvelous play kept down the score. I adore Fatty! You know, +Mamma, that dear old Scotchwoman--" + +"Scotchwoman?" exclaimed Mrs. Templeton. + +"Yes. Oh! you don't know about her. Captain Jack brought her along. Mrs. +Mc-something." + +"McNish," supplied Adrien. + +"Yes, McNish," continued Patricia, "a perfect dear! She did everything +but swear. Indeed, she may have been swearing for I could not understand +half of what she said." + +Adrien interrupted: "She is perfectly priceless, Mother. I wish you +could meet her--so dignified and sweet." + +"Sweet!" exclaimed Patricia, with a laugh. "Well, I didn't see the +sweetness, exactly. But at half time, Mamma, fancy! they stood five to +two against us. It was a truly awful moment for all of us. And then, +after half time, didn't those Cornwalls within five minutes run in +another goal, and, worse than all, Jumbo Larson laid out Snoopy flat on +the ice! Now the game stood six to two! Think of it, Mamma!" + +Then Adrien put in: "It was at this point that the old lady made a +remark which, I believe, saved the day. What was it exactly, Hugh?" + +"I didn't quite get it." + +"I know," said little Vic Forsythe, himself a star of the Eagle forward +line. "You poor Sassenach! You couldn't be expected to catch the full, +fine flavour of it. Maitland was trying to cheer the old lady up when +she said to him: 'Yon half backs, A'm thinkin''--she was a soccer fan +in the old land, I believe--'yon half backs, A'm thinkin', are gey +confident. It is a peety they cudna be shaken a bit in their nerves.' By +Jove! Maitland jumped at it. 'Mrs. McNish, you're right! you're right. I +wonder I did not think of it before.'" + +Then Adrien broke in: "Yes, from that moment there was a change in our +men's tactics." + +Then Patricia broke in: "Well, then, let me go on. Captain Jack knew +quite well there was no use of allowing those little chaps, Snoopy and +Geordie Ross, to keep feeding themselves to those horrid monsters, Jumbo +Larson and Macnab, so what did they do but move up 'Jack' Johnson and +Macnamara. That is, you see, Mamma, the forwards would take down the +puck and then up behind them would come the backs, Macnamara and 'Jack' +Johnson, like a perfect storm, and taking the puck from the forwards, +who would then fall back to defence, would smash right on the Cornwall +defence. The very first time when 'Jack' Johnson came against Jumbo, +Jumbo found himself sitting on the ice. Oh! it was lovely! Perfectly +lovely! And the next time they did it, Jumbo came at him like a bull. +But that adorable 'Jack' Johnson just lifted him clear off his feet and +flung him against the side. It seemed to me that the whole rink shook!" + +Here Vic broke in: "You didn't hear what the old lady said at this +point, I suppose. I was sitting next to her. She was really a whole play +by herself. When Jumbo went smashing against the side, the old lady gave +a grunt. 'Hum, that wull sort ye a doot.' Oh! she is a peach!" + +"And the next time they came down," cried Patricia, taking up the tale +again, "Jumbo avoided him. For Macnamara, 'Jack' Johnson and Captain +Jack came roaring down the ice at a terrific pace, and with never a +stop, smashed head on into Jumbo and Macnab and fairly hurled them in +on Hepburn--that is their goal keeper, you know--and scored. Oh! Oh! Oh! +Such a yell! Six to three, and ten minutes to play." + +"But Patricia," said Mrs. Templeton, "do moderate your tone. We are not +in the rink. And this terrible excitement can't be good for you." + +"Good for me?" cried Patricia. "What difference does that make? Ten +minutes to play, Mamma! But that was the end of the roughhouse game by +the Cornwall defence." + +Then Hugh stepped in: "It really did break up that defence. It was a +wonderful piece of generalship, I must say. They never seemed to get +together after that." + +"Let me talk, Hugh," exclaimed Patricia, "I want to tell Mamma what +happened next, for this was really the most terribly exciting part of +the game. And I think it was awfully clever of Captain Jack. You know, +next time, Mamma, when they came down--I mean our men--they pretended to +be playing the same game, but they weren't. For Captain Jack and Snoopy +went back to their old specialty, and before the Cornwalls knew where +they were at, they ran in three goals--one-two-three, just like that! +Oh! you ought to have seen that rink, Mamma, and you ought to have heard +the yelling! I wish you had been there! And then, just at that last goal +didn't that horrid Jumbo make a terrible and cruel swing at Snoopy's +ankle, just as he passed. Knocked him clean off his feet so that poor +Snoopy lay on the ice quite still! He was really nearly killed. They had +to carry him off!" + +"Well, I wouldn't say that exactly," said Hugh. "The fact of the matter +is, Snoopy is a clever little beggar and I happened to catch his wink as +Maitland was bending over him. I was helping him off the ice, you know, +and I heard him whisper, 'Don't worry, Captain, I'm all right. Get me +another pair of skates. It will take a little time.'" + +"Do you mean he wasn't hurt?" exclaimed Patricia indignantly. "Indeed he +was; he was almost killed, I am sure he was." + +"Oh, he was hurt right enough," said Hugh, "but he wasn't killed by any +means!" + +"And then," continued Patricia, "there was the most terrible riot and +uproar. Everybody seemed to be on the ice and fighting. Hugh ran in, +and Vic--I should loved to have gone myself--Hugh was perfectly +splendid--and all the Eagles were there and--" + +Then Mrs. Templeton said: "What do you mean--a fight, a riot?" + +"A real riot, Mother," said Adrien, "the whole crowd demanding Jumbo's +removal from the ice." + +"Yes," continued Patricia impatiently, pushing her sister aside, "Hugh +went straight to the umpire and it looked almost as though he was going +to fight, the way he tore in. But he didn't. He just spoke quietly to +the umpire. What did you say, Hugh?" + +"Oh," cried Vic, "Hugh was perfectly calm and superior. He knows the +umpire well. Indeed, I think the umpire owes his life to Hugh and his +protecting band of Eagles." + +"What did he say," cried Patricia. "I wish I could have heard that." + +"Oh," said Vic, "there was an interesting conversation. 'Keep out of +this, Maynard. You ought to know better,' the umpire said, 'keep out.' +'Baker, that man Larson must go off.' 'Rubbish,' said the umpire, 'they +were both roughing it.' 'Look here, Baker, that's rot and you know it. +It was a deliberate and beastly trick. Put him off!' 'He stays on!' said +the umpire, and he stuck to it, I'll give him credit for that. It was +old Maitland that saved the day. He came up smiling. 'I hope you are +taking off the time, umpire,' he said, with that little laugh of his. 'I +am not going to put Larson off,' shouted the umpire to him. 'Who asked +you to?' said Maitland. 'Go on with the game.' That saved the day. They +all started cheering. The ice was cleared and the game went on." + +"Oh, that was it. I couldn't understand. They were so savage first, and +then suddenly they all seemed to quiet down. It was Captain Jack. Well, +Mamma, on they came again! But when poor Snoopy came out, all bandaged +round the head and the blood showing through--" + +"Quite a clever little beggar," murmured Vic. + +"Clever? What do you mean?" cried Patricia. + +"Oh, well, good psychology, I mean--that's all. Bloody +bandages--demanding vengeance, Jack's team, you know--Macnamara, for +instance, entreating his captain for the love of heaven to put him +opposite Jumbo--shaking the morale of the enemy and so forth--mighty +good psychology." + +"I don't know exactly what you mean," said Patricia, "but the Cornwall +defence was certainly rattled. They pulled their men back and played +defence like perfect demons, with the Mill men on to them like tigers." + +"But Patricia, my dear," said her mother, "those are terrible words." + +"But, Mamma, not half so terrible as the real thing. Oh, it was +perfectly splendid! And then how did it finish, Hugh? I didn't quite see +how that play came about." + +"I didn't see, either," said Hugh. + +"Didn't you?" cried Adrien, "I did. Jack and Geordie Ross were going +down the centre at a perfectly terrific speed, big Macnamara backing +them up. Out came Macnab and Jumbo Larson following him. Macnab checked +Geordie, who passed to Jack, who slipped it back to Macnamara. Down +came Jumbo like a perfect thunderbolt and fairly hurled himself upon +Macnamara. I don't know what happened then, but--" + +"Oh, I do!" cried Vic. "When old Jumbo came hurtling down upon +Macnamara, this was evidently what Macnamara was waiting for. Indeed, +what he had been praying for all through the game. I saw him gather +himself, crouch low, lurch forward with shoulder well down, a wrestler's +trick--you know Macnamara was the champion wrestler of his division in +France--he caught Jumbo low. Result, a terrific catapult, and the big +Swede lay on his back some twenty feet away. Everybody thought he was +dead." + +"Oh, it was perfectly lovely!" exclaimed Patricia, rapturously. + +"But, my dear," said her mother, "lovely, and they thought the man was +dead!" + +"Oh, but he wasn't dead. He came to. I will say he was very plucky. Then +just as they faced off, time was called. Six to six! Think of it, Mamma, +six to six! And we had been five to two at half time!" + +"Six to six?" said Mrs. Templeton. "But I thought you said we won?" + +"Oh, listen, Mamma, this is the most wonderful thing of the whole +match," said Adrien, trying to break in on the tornado of words from her +younger sister. + +"No, let me, Adrien! I know exactly how it was done. Captain Jack +explained it to me before. It was Captain Jack's specialty. It was what +they call the double-circle. Here is the way it was worked." Patricia +sprang to her feet, arranged two chairs for goal and proceeded to +demonstrate. "You see, Mamma, in the single circle play, Captain Jack +and Snoopy come down--say Snoopy has the puck. Just as they get near the +goal Snoopy fools the back, rushes round the goal and passes to +Jack, who is standing in front ready to slip it in. But of course +the Cornwalls were prepared for the play. But that is where the +double-circle comes in. This time Geordie had the puck, with Captain +Jack immediately at his left and Snoopy further out. Well, Geordie had +the puck, you see. He rushes down and pretends to make the circle of the +goal. But this time he doesn't. He tears like mad around the goal with +the puck, Snoopy tears like mad around the goal from the other side, the +defence all rush over to the left to check them, leaving the right wide +open. Snoopy takes the ball from Geordie, rushes around the goal the +other way, Mamma, do you see?--passes back to Reddy, his partner, who +slips it in! And poor Jumbo was unable to do anything. I believe he was +still dazed from his terrible fall!" + +Then Hugh breaks in: "It really was beautifully done." + +"It certainly was," said Vic. + +"Seven to six, Mamma, think of it! Seven to six, and two minutes of the +first overtime to play. Two minutes! It just seemed that our men could +do as they liked. The last time the whole forward lines came down, with +Macnamara and 'Jack' Johnson roaring and yelling like--like--I don't +know what. And they did the double-circle again! Think of it! And then +time was called. Oh, I am perfectly exhausted with this excitement!" +said Patricia, sinking back into her chair. "I don't believe I could go +down to that rink, not even for another game. It is terribly trying!" + +At this moment Rupert Stillwell came in, full of enthusiasm for the +Cornwalls' scientific hockey, and with grudging praise for the local +team, deploring their roughhouse tactics. But he met a sharp and +unexpected check, for Adrien took him in hand, in her quiet, cool, +efficient manner. + +"Roughhouse!" she said. "What do you mean exactly by that?" + +"Well," said Rupert, somewhat taken aback, "for instance that charge of +Macnamara on Jumbo Larson at the last." + +"I saw that quite clearly," said Adrien, "and it appeared to me +quite all right. It was Larson who made the most furious charge upon +Macnamara." + +"Of course it was," cried Patricia, indignantly. "Jumbo deserved all he +got. Why, the way he mauled little Snoopy and Geordie Ross in the first +part of the game was perfectly horrid. Don't you think so, Hugh?" + +"Oh, well, hockey is not tiddly-winks, you know, Patricia, and--" + +"As if I didn't know that!" broke in the girl indignantly. + +"And Jumbo and Macnab," continued Hugh, "really had to break up the +dangerous combination there. Of course that was a rotten assault on +Snoopy. It wasn't Jumbo's fault that he didn't break an ankle. As it +was, he gave him a very bad fall." + +At this Rupert laughed scornfully. "Rot," he said, "the whole town is +laughing at all that bloody bandage business. It was a bit of stage +play. Very clever, I confess, but no hockey. I happen to know that +Maitland was quite hot about it." + +But Hugh and Vic only laughed at him. + +"He is a clever little beggar, is Snoopy," said Vic. + +"But, meantime," said Mrs. Templeton, "where is Jack! He was going to be +here, was he not?" + +"Feasting and dancing, I expect," said Rupert. "There is a big supper +on, given by the Mill management, and a dance afterwards--'hot time in +the old town,' eh?" + +"A dance?" gasped Patricia. "A dance! Where?" + +"Odd Fellows' Hall," said Rupert. "Want to go? I have tickets. Don't +care for that sort of thing myself. Rather a mixed affair, I guess. Mill +hands and their girls." + +"Oh," breathed Patricia, "I should love to go. Couldn't we?" + +"But my dear Patricia," said her mother, "a dance, with all those +people? What nonsense. But I wish Jack would drop in. I should so like +to congratulate him on his great victory." + +"Oh, do let us go, just for a few minutes, Mamma" entreated Patricia. +"Hugh, have you tickets?" + +The men looked at each other. + +"Well," confessed Vic, "I was thinking of dropping in myself. After all, +it is our home team and they are good sports. And Maitland handled them +with wonderful skill." + +"Yes, I am going," said Hugh. "I am bound to go as Captain of the +Eagles, and that sort of thing, but I would, anyway. Would you care +to come, Adrien, if Mrs. Templeton will allow you? Of course there are +chaperons. Maitland would see to that." + +"I should like awfully to go," said Adrien eagerly. "We might, for a few +minutes, Mother? Of course, Patricia should be in bed, really." + +Poor Patricia's face fell. + +"It is no place for any of you," said the mother, decidedly. "Just think +of that mixed multitude! And you, Patricia, you should be in bed." + +"But oh, Mamma, dear," wailed Patricia, "I can rest all day to-morrow." + +At this point a new voice broke in to the discussion and Doctor +Templeton appeared. "Well, what's the excitement," he enquired. "Oh, the +match, of course! Well, what was the result?" + +"Oh, Daddy, we won, we won!" cried Patricia, springing at him. "The +most glorious match! Big Jumbo Larson, a perfect monster on the Cornwall +defence, was knocked out! Oh, it was a glorious match! And can't I go +down to see the dance? Adrien and Hugh and Vic are going. Only for a few +minutes," she begged, with her arms around her father's neck. "Say yes, +Daddy!" + +"Give me time; let me get my breath, Patricia. Now, do begin +somewhere--say, with the score." + +They all gave him the score. + +"Hurrah!" cried the old doctor. "No one hurt--seriously, I mean?" + +"No," said Patricia, "except perhaps Jumbo Larson," she added hopefully. + +"The Lord was merciful to this family when he made you a girl, +Patricia," said her father. + +"But, Daddy, it was a wonderful game." Quite breathlessly, she went once +more over the outstanding features of the play. + +"Sounds rather bloody, I must say," said her father, doubtfully. + +But Hugh said: "It was not really--not quite so bad as Patricia makes +it, sir. Rough at times, of course, but, on the whole, clean." + +"Clean," cried Patricia, "what about Jumbo's swing at Snoopy?" + +"Oh, well, Snoopy had the puck, you know. It was a little off-colour, I +must confess." + +"And now, Daddy," said Patricia, going at her father again, "we all want +to go down to the dance. There will be speeches, you know, and I do want +to hear Captain Jack," she added, not without guile. "Won't you let me +go with them? Hugh will take care of me." + +"I think I should rather like to go myself," said her father. A shout +of approval rose from the whole company. "But," continued the doctor, "I +don't think I can. My dear, I think they might go for a few minutes--and +you can bring me in a full account of the speeches, Patricia," he added, +with a twinkle in his eye. + +"But, my dear," exclaimed his wife, "this is one of those awful public +affairs. You can't imagine what they are like. The Mill hands will all +be there, and that sort of people." + +"Well, my dear, Jack Maitland will be there, I fancy, and you were +thinking of going, Hugh?" + +"Yes, sir, I am going. Of course there will be a number of the friends +of both teams, townspeople. Of course the Mill hands will be there, too, +in large numbers. It will be great fun." + +"Well, my dear," said the doctor, "I think they might go down for a few +minutes. But be sure to be back before midnight. Remember, Patricia, you +are to do exactly as your sister says." + +Then Vic said: "I shall keep a firm hand on her, sir." + +"Oh, you darling," Patricia cried, hugging her father rapturously. "I +will be so good; and won't it be fun!" + +Odd Fellows' Hall was elaborately decorated with bunting and evergreens. +The party from the Rectory, arriving in time to hear the closing +speeches of the two team captains, took their places in the gallery. The +speeches were brief and to the point. + +The Captain of the visiting team declared that he had greatly enjoyed +the game. He was not quite convinced that the best team had won, but he +would say that the game had gone to the team that had put up the best +play. He complimented Captain Maitland upon his generalship. He had +known Captain Maitland in the old days and he ought to have been on the +lookout for the kind of thing he had put over. The Maitland Mill team +had made a perfectly wonderful recovery in the last quarter, though he +rather thought his friend Macnamara had helped it a little at a critical +point. + +"He did that," exclaimed Jumbo Larson, with marked emphasis. + +After the roar of laughter had quieted down, the Cornwall Captain closed +by expressing the hope that the Maitland Mill team would try for a place +next season in the senior hockey. In which case he expressed the hope +that he might have the pleasure of meeting them again. + +Captain Maitland's speech was characteristic. He had nothing but praise +for the Cornwalls. They played a wonderful game and a clean game. He +shared in the doubt of their Captain as to which was the better team. He +frankly confessed that in the last quarter the luck came to his team. + +"Not a bit of it," roared the Cornwalls with one voice. + +As to his own team, he was particularly proud of the way they had taken +the training--their fine self-denial, and especially the never-dying +spirit which they showed. It was a great honour for his team to meet +the Cornwalls. A hard team to meet--sometimes--as Snoopy and himself had +found out that evening--but they were good sports and he hoped some day +to meet them again. + +After the usual cheers for the teams, individually and collectively, for +their supporters, for the Mill management and for the ladies, the dinner +came to an end, the whole party joining with wide open throats and all +standing at attention, in the Canadian and the Empire national anthems. + +While the supper table was being cleared away preparatory to the dance, +Captain Jack rushed upstairs to the party in the gallery. Patricia flung +herself at him in an ecstasy of rapture. + +"Oh! Captain Jack, you did win! You did win! You did win! It was +glorious! And that double-circle play that you and Snoopy put up--didn't +it work beautifully!" + +"We were mighty lucky," said Captain Jack. + +The others, Hugh, Vic and Rupert, crowded round, offering +congratulations. Adrien waited behind, a wonderful light shining in her +eyes, a faint colour touching her pale cheek. Captain Jack came slowly +forward. + +"Are you not going to congratulate us, too, Adrien?" he said. + +She moved a pace forward. + +"Oh, Jack," she whispered, leaning toward him and breathing quickly, "it +was so like the old, the dear old days." + +Into Maitland's eyes there flashed a look of surprise, of wonder, then +of piercing scrutiny, while his face grew white. + +"Adrien," he said, in a voice low, tense, almost stern, which she alone +heard. "What do you mean? Then do you--" + +"Oh, Captain Jack," cried Patricia, catching his arm, "are you going to +dance? You are, aren't you? And will you give me--Oh, I daren't ask! You +are such a great hero to-night!" + +"Why, Patsy, will you give me a dance?" + +The girl stood gazing at him with eyes that grew misty, the quick +beating of her loyal heart almost suffocating her. + +"Oh, Captain Jack," she gasped, "how many?" + +Maitland laughed at her, and turned to her sister. + +"And you, Adrien, may I have a dance?" + +Again Adrien leaned toward him. + +"One?" she asked. + +"And as many more as you can spare." + +"My program is quite empty, you see," she said, flinging out her hands +and laughing joyously into his face. + +"What about me? And me? And me?" said the other three men. + +"I suppose we are all nowhere to-night," added Rupert, with a touch of +bitterness in his voice. + +"Well, there is only one conquering hero, you know," replied Adrien, +smiling at them all. + +"Now I must run off," said Maitland. "You see, I am on duty, as it were. +Come down in a few minutes." + +"Yes, go, Jack," said Adrien, throwing him a warm smile. "We will follow +you in a few minutes." + +"Oh, I am so excited!" said Patricia, as Maitland disappeared down the +stairs. "I mean to dance with every one of the team. I know I am going +to have a perfectly lovely time! But I would give them all up if I could +have Captain Jack all the time." + +"Pig," said her sister, smiling at her. + +"Wretch," cried Vic, making a face. + +But Patricia was quite unabashed. "I am going to have him just as often +as I can," she said, brazenly. + +For a few minutes they stood watching the dancers on the floor below. It +was indeed, as Mrs. Templeton had said, a "mixed multitude." Mill +hands and their girls, townsfolk whose social standing was sufficiently +assured to endure the venture. A mixed multitude, but thoroughly jolly, +making up in vigour what was lacking in grace in their exposition of the +Terpsichorean art. + +"Rather ghastly," said Rupert, who appeared to be quite disgusted with +the whole evening's proceedings. + +"Lovely!" exclaimed Patricia. + +"They are enjoying themselves, at any rate," said Adrien, "and, after +all, that is what people dance for." + +"Stacks of fun. I am all for it, eh, Pat?" said Vic, making adoring eyes +at the young girl. + +But Patricia severely ignored him. + +"Oh, Adrien, look!" she cried suddenly. "There is Annette, and who is +the big man with her? Oh, what an awful dancer he is! But Annette, isn't +she wonderful! What a lovely dress! I think she is the most beautiful +thing." And Patricia was right, for Annette was radiant in colour and +unapproachable in the grace of her movement. + +"By Jove! She is a wonder!" said Vic. "Some dancer, if she only had a +chance." + +"Well, why don't you go down, Vic," said Patricia sharply. "You know you +are just aching to show off your fox trot. Run away, little boy, I won't +mind." + +"I don't believe you would," replied Vic ruefully. + +For some minutes longer they all stood watching the scene below. + +"They are a jolly crowd," said Adrien. "I don't think we have half the +fun at our dances." + +"They certainly get a lot for their money," said Vic. "But wait till +they come to 'turkey-in-the-straw!' That is where they really cut +loose." + +"Oh, pshaw!" cried Patricia. "I can 'turkey' myself. Just wait and +you'll see." + +"So can I," murmured Vic. "Will you let me in on it? Hello," he +continued, "there is the Captain and Annette. Now look out for high art. +I know the Captain's style. And a two-step! My eye! She is a little airy +fairy!" + +"How beautifully she dances," said Adrien. "And how charmingly she is +dressed." + +"They do hit it off, don't they," said Rupert. "They evidently know each +other's paces." + +Suddenly Adrien turned to Hugh: "Don't you think we should go down?" she +asked. "You know we must not stay late." + +"Yes, do come along!" cried Patricia, seizing Victor by the arm and +hurrying to the stairs, the others making their way more leisurely to +the dancing room. + +The hall was a scene of confused hilarity. Maitland was nowhere to be +seen. + +"Oh! let us dance, Vic!" cried Patricia. "There is really no use waiting +for Captain Jack. At any rate, Adrien will claim the first dance." + +No second invitation was needed and together they swung off into the +medley of dancers. + +"We may as well follow," said Hugh. "We shall doubtless run into +Maitland somewhere before long." + +But not in that dance, nor in the three successive dances did Maitland +appear. The precious moments were slipping by. Patricia was becoming +more and more anxious and fretful at the non-appearance of her hero. +Also, Hugh began to notice and detect a lagging in his partner's step. + +"Shall we go out into the corridor?" he said. "This air is beginning to +be rather trying." + +From the crowded hall they passed into the corridor, from which opened +side rooms which were used as dressing and retiring rooms, and whose +entrances were cleverly screened by a row of thick spruce trees set up +for the occasion. + +"This is better," said Hugh, drawing a deep breath. "Shall we sit a bit +and rest?" + +"Oh, do let us," said Adrien. "This has been a strenuous and exciting +evening. I really feel quite done out. Here is a most inviting seat." + +Wearily she sat down on a bench which faced the entrance to one of the +rooms. + +"Shall I bring you a glass of water or an ice, Adrien?" inquired Hugh, +noting the pallor in her face. + +"Thank you. A glass of water, if you will be so kind. How deliciously +fragrant that spruce is." + +As her partner set off upon his errand, Adrien stepped to the spruce +tree which screened the open door of the room opposite, and taking +the bosky branches in her hands, she thrust her face into the aromatic +foliage. + +"How deliciously fragrant," she murmured. + +Suddenly, as if stabbed by a spine in the trees, she started back and +stood gazing through the thick branches into the room beyond There +stood Maitland and Annette, the girl, with her face tearfully pale and +pleading, uplifted to his and with her hands gripped tight and held fast +in his, clasped against his breast. More plainly than words her face, +her eyes, her attitude told her tale. She was pouring out her very soul +to him in entreaty, and he was giving eager, sympathetic heed to her +appeal. + +Swiftly Adrien stepped back from the screening tree, her face white as +if from a stunning blow, her heartbeats checking her breath. Quickly, +blindly, she ran down the corridor. At the very end she met Hugh with a +glass of water in his hand. + +"What is the matter, Adrien? Have you seen a ghost?" he cried in an +anxious voice. + +She caught the glass from his hand and began to drink, at first +greedily, then more slowly. + +"Ah!" she said, drawing a deep breath. "That is good. Do you know, I +was almost overcome. The air of that room is quite deadly. Now I am all +right. Let us get a breath from the outside, Hugh." + +Taking him by the arm, she hastened him to the farther end of the +corridor and opened the door. "Oh, delicious!" She drew in deep breaths +of the cold, fresh air. + +"How wonderful the night is, Hugh." She leaned far out, "and the snow +was like a cloth of silver and diamonds in this glorious moon." She +stooped, and from a gleaming bank beside the door she caught up a double +handful of the snow and, packing it into a little ball, flung it at her +partner, catching him fairly on the ear. + +"Aha!" she cried. "Don't ever say a woman is a poor shot. Now then," she +added, stamping her feet free from the clinging flakes and waving her +hands in the air to dry them, "I feel fit for anything. Let us have one +more dance before we go home, for I feel we really must go." + +"You are sure you are quite fit?" inquired Hugh, still anxious for her. + +"Fit? Look at me!" Her cheeks were bright with colour, her eyes with +light. + +"You surely do look fit," said Hugh, beaming at her with frank +admiration. "But you were all in a few moments ago." + +"Come along. There is a way into the hall by this door," she cried, +catching his hand and hurrying him into the dancing room again. + +At the conclusion of their dance they came upon Patricia near the main +entrance, in great distress. "I have not seen Captain Jack anywhere," +she lamented. "Have you, Adrien? I have just sent Vic for a final +search. I simply cannot go home till I have had my dance." The girl was +almost in tears. + +"Never mind, dear," said Adrien. "He has many duties to-night with +all these players to look after. I think we had better go whenever Vic +returns. I am awfully sorry for you, Patricia," she added. "No! Don't! +You simply must not cry here." She put her arm around her sister's +shoulder, her own lips trembling, and drew her close. "Where has Vic +gone, I wonder?" + +That young man, however, was having his own trials. In his search for +Maitland he ran across McNish, whom he recognised as Annette's partner +in the first dance. + +"Hello!" he cried. "Do you know where Captain Maitland is, by any +chance?" + +"No, how should I know," replied McNish, in a voice fiercely guttural. + +"Oh!" said Vic, somewhat abashed. "I saw you dance with Annette--with +Miss Perrotte--and I thought perhaps you might know where the Captain +was." + +McNish stood glowering at him for a moment or two, then burst forth: + +"They are awa'--he's ta'en her awa'." + +"Away," said Vic. "Where?" + +"To hell for all I ken or care." + +Then with a single stride McNish was close at his side, gripping his arm +with fingers that seemed to reach the bone. + +"Ye're a friend o' his. Let me say tae ye if ony ill cames tae her, by +the leevin' God above us he wull answer tae me." Hoarse, panting, his +face that of a maniac, he stood glaring wild-eyed at the young man +before him. To say that Vic was shaken by this sudden and violent +onslaught would be much within the truth. Nevertheless he boldly faced +the passion-distracted man. + +"Look here! I don't know who you are or what you mean," he said, in as +steady tones as he could summon, "but if you suggest that any girl will +come to harm from Captain Maitland, then I say you are a liar and a +fool." So speaking, little Vic set himself for the rush which he was +firmly convinced would come. McNish, however, stood still, fighting for +control. Then, between his deep-drawn breaths, he slowly spoke: + +"Ye may be richt. A hope tae God A am baith liar and fule." The agony in +his face moved Vic to pity. + +"I say, old chap," he said, "you are terribly mistaken somehow, I can +swear to that. Where is Maitland, anyway, do you know?" + +"They went away together." McNish had suddenly gotten himself in hand. +"They went away in his car, secretly." + +"Secretly," said Vic, scornfully. "Now, that is perfect rot. Look here, +do you know Captain Maitland? I am his friend, and let me tell you that +all I ever hope to own, here and hereafter, and all my relatives and +friends, I would gladly trust with him." + +"Maybe, maybe," muttered McNish. "Ye may be richt. A apologise, sir, but +if--" His eyes blazed again. + +"Aw, cut out the tragedy stuff," said Vic, "and don't be an ass. +Good-night." + +Vic turned on his heel and left McNish standing in a dull and dazed +condition, and made his way toward the ballroom. + +"Who is the Johnny, anyway?" he said to himself. "He is +mad--looney--utterly bughouse. Needs a keeper in the worst way. But what +about the Captain--must think up something. Let's see. Taken +suddenly ill? Hardly--there is the girl to account for. Her +mother--grandmother--or something--stricken--let's see. Annette has +a brother--By Jove! the very thing--I've got it--brother met with an +accident--run over--fell down a well--anything. Hurry call--ambulance +stuff. Good line. Needs working up a bit, though. What has happened to +my grey matter? Let me think. Ah, yes--when that Johnny brought word +of an accident, a serious accident to her brother, Maitland, naturally +enough, the gallant soul, hurries her off in his car, sending word by +aforesaid mad Johnny." + +Vic went to the outer door, feeling the necessity for a somewhat careful +conning of his tale to give it, as he said himself, a little artistic +verisimilitude. Then, with his lesson--as he thought--well learned, and +praying for aid of unknown gods, he went back to find his partner. + +"If only Patricia will keep out of it," he said to himself as he neared +the hall door, "or if I could only catch old Hugh first. But he is not +much of a help in this sort of thing. Dash it all! I am quite nervous. +This will never do. Must find a way--good effect--cool and collected +stuff." So, ruminating and praying and moving ever more slowly, he +reached the door. Coming in sight of his party, he hurried to meet them. +"Awfully sorry!" he exclaimed excitedly. "The most rotten luck! Old +Maitland's just been called off." + +"Called off!" cried Patricia, in dismay. "Where to!" + +"Now, don't jump at me like that. Remember my heart. Met that +Johnny--the big chap dancing with Annette, you know--just met him--quite +worked up--a hurry call for the girl--for the girl, Annette, you know." + +"The girl!" exclaimed Patricia. "You said Captain Jack." + +"I know! I know!" replied Vic, somewhat impatiently. "I am a bit +excited, I confess. Rather nasty thing--Annette's brother, you +know--something wrong--accident, I think. Couldn't get the particulars." + +"But Annette's brother is in Toronto," said Adrien, gravely. + +"Exactly!" cried Vic. "That is what I have been telling you. A hurry +call--phone message for Annette--horrible accident. Maitland rushed her +right away in his car to catch the midnight to Toronto." + +"By Jove! That is too bad," said Hugh, a genuine sympathy in his honest +voice. "That is hard luck on poor Annette. Tony is not exactly a safe +proposition, you know." + +"Was he--is he killed?" cried Patricia, in a horror-stricken voice. + +"Killed! Not a bit of it," said Vic cheerfully. "Slight injury--but +serious, I mean. You know, just enough to cause anxiety." Vic lit +another cigarette with ostentatious deliberation. "Nasty shock, you +know," he said. + +"Who told you all this?" inquired Rupert. + +"Who told me?" said Vic. "Why, that mad Johnny." + +"Mad Johnny? What mad Johnny?" + +Vic said: "Eh! What? You know, that--ahr--big chap who was falling over +her in the fox trot. Looked kind of crazy, you know--big chap--Scotch." + +"Where is he now?" enquired Rupert. + +"Oh, I fancy about there, somewhere," replied Vic, remembering that he +had seen McNish moving toward the door. "Better go and look him up and +get more particulars. Might help some, you know." + +"Oh, Adrien, let us go to her," said Patricia. "I am sure Annette would +love to have you. Poor Annette!" + +"Oh! I say!" interposed Vic hurriedly. "There is really no necessity. I +shouldn't like to intrude in family affairs and that sort of thing, you +know what I mean." + +Adrien's grave, quiet eyes were upon Vic's face. "You think we had +better not go, then," she said slowly. + +"Sure thing!" replied Vic, with cheerful optimism. "There is no +necessity--slight accident--no need to make a fuss about it." + +"But you said it was a serious accident--a terrible thing," said +Patricia. + +"Oh, now, Patricia, come out of it. You check a fellow up so hard. Can't +you understand the Johnny was so deucedly worked up over it he +couldn't give me the right of it. Dash it all! Let's have another turn, +Patricia!" + +But Adrien said: "I think we will go home, Hugh." + +"Very well, if you think so, Adrien. I don't fancy you need worry over +Annette. The accident probably is serious but not dangerous. Tony is a +tough fellow." + +"Exactly!" exclaimed Vic. "Just as I have been telling you. Serious, but +not dangerous. At least, that was the impression I got." + +"Oh, Vic, you are so terribly confusing!" exclaimed Patricia. "Why can't +you get things straight? I say, Adrien, we can ride round to Annette's +on our way home, and then we will get things quite clearly." + +"Certainly," said Hugh. "It will only take us a minute. Eh, what!" he +added to Vic, who was making frantic grimaces at him. "Well, if you +ladies will get your things, we will go." + +"But I am so disappointed," said Patricia to Adrien, as they went to +their dressing room together. + +After they had gone, Hugh turned upon Vic: "Now then, what the deuce and +all are you driving at?" + +"Driving at!" cried Vic, in an exasperated tone. "You are a sweet +support for a fellow in distress. I am a nervous wreck--a perfect mess. +Another word from that kid and I should have run screaming into the +night. And as for you, why the deuce didn't you buck up and help a +fellow out?" + +"Help you out? How in the name of all that is reasonable could I help +you out? What is all the yarn about? Of course I know it isn't true. +Where's Maitland?" + +"Search me," said Vic. "All I know is that I hit upon that Scotch Johnny +out in the hall--he nearly wrenched an arm off me and did everything +but bite--spitting out incoherent gaspings indicating that Maitland +had 'gone awa' wi' his gur-r-l, confound him!' and suggesting the usual +young Lochinvar stuff. You know--nothing in it, of course. But what was +I to do? Some tale was necessary! Fortunately or unfortunately, brother +Tony sprang to the thing I call my mind and--well, you know the mess +I made of it. But Hugh, remember, for heaven's sake, make talk about +something--about the match--and get that girl quietly home. I bag the +back seat and Adrien. It is hard on me, I know, but fifteen minutes +more of Patsy and I shall be counting my tootsies and prattling nursery +rhymes. Here they come," he breathed. "Now, 'a little forlorn hope, +deadly breach act, if you love me, Hardy.' Play up, old boy!" + +And with commendable enthusiasm and success, Hugh played up, +supported--as far as his physical and mental condition allowed--by +the enfeebled Vic, till they had safely deposited their charges at the +Rectory door, whence, refusing an invitation to stop for cocoa, they +took their homeward way. + +"'And from famine, pestilence and sudden death,' and from the once-over +by that penetrating young female, 'good Lord, deliver us,'" murmured +Vic, falling into the seat beside his friend. "Take me home to mother," +he added, and refused further speech till at his own door. He waved a +weak adieu and staggered feebly into the house. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE NEW MANAGER + + +Grant Maitland sat in his office, plainly disturbed in his mind. His +resolute face, usually reflecting the mental repose which arises from +the consciousness of a strength adequate to any emergency, carried lines +which revealed a mind which had lost its poise. Reports from his foremen +indicated brooding trouble, and this his own observation within the last +few weeks confirmed. Production was noticeably falling low. The attitude +of the workers suggested suspicion and discontent. That fine glow of +comradeship which had been characteristic of all workers in the Maitland +Mills had given place to a sullen aloofness and a shiftiness of eye that +all too plainly suggested evil forces at work. + +During the days immediately preceding and following the Great Match, +there had been a return of that frank and open bearing that had +characterised the employees of the Maitland Mills in the old days, but +that fleeting gleam of sunshine had faded out and the old grey shadow +of suspicion, of discontent, had fallen again. To Maitland this attitude +brought a disappointment and a resentment which sensibly added to his +burden, already heavy enough in these days of weakening markets and +falling prices. In his time he had come through periods of financial +depression. He was prepared for one such period now, but he had never +passed through the unhappy experience of a conflict with his own +employees. Not that he had ever feared a fight, but he shrank from a +fight with his own men. It humiliated him. He felt it to be a reflection +upon his system of management, upon his ability to lead and control, +indeed, upon his personality. But, more than all, it grieved him to feel +that he had lost that sense of comradeship which for forty years he +had been able to preserve with those who toiled with him in a common +enterprise. + +A sense of loneliness fell upon him. Like many a man, self-made and +self-sufficing, he craved companionship which his characteristic +qualities of independence and strength seemed to render unnecessary and +undesired. The experience of all leaders of men was his, for the leader +is ever a lonely man. + +This morning the reports he had just received convinced him that a +strike with his workers would not long be delayed. "If I only knew what +they really wanted," he bitterly mused. "It cannot be wages. Their wages +are two or three times what they were before the war--shop conditions +are all that could be desired--the Lord knows I have spent enough in +this welfare stuff and all that sort of thing during these hard times. +I have heard of no real grievances. I am sick of it all. I guess I am +growing too old for this sort of thing." + +There was a tap at the door and his son appeared, with a cheery +greeting. + +"Come in, Jack," said his father, "I believe you are the very man I +want." + +"Hello, Dad. You look as if you were in trouble." + +"Well," replied his father with a keen look at him, "I think I may +return the compliment." + +"Well, yes, but perhaps I should not bother you. You have all you can +carry." + +"All I can carry," echoed Maitland, picking up the reports from his +desk and handing them to his son, who glanced over them. "Things are not +going well at the mills. No, you needn't tell me. You know I never ask +you for any confidences about your brother unionists." + +"Right you are, Dad. You have always played the game." + +"Well, I must confess this is beyond me. Everywhere on the men's faces +I catch that beastly look of distrust and suspicion. I hate to work with +men like that. And very obviously, trouble is brewing, but what it is, +frankly, it is beyond me to know." + +"Well, it is hardly a secret any longer," said Jack. "Trouble is coming, +Dad, though what form it shall take I am not in a position to say. Union +discipline is a fierce thing. The rank and file are not taken into +the confidence of the leaders. Policies are decided upon in the secret +councils of the Great Ones and handed down to us to adopt. Of course, it +is open to any man to criticise, and I am bound to say that the rankers +exercise that privilege with considerable zest. All the same, however, +it is difficult to overturn an administration, hard to upset established +order. The thing that is, is the thing that ought to be. Rejection of an +administration policy demands revolution." + +"Well," said his father, taking the sheets from Jack's hand, "we needn't +go to meet the trouble. Now, let us have yours. What is your particular +grief?" + +"Tony," said Jack shortly. + +"Tony?" echoed his father in dismay. "Heaven help us! And what now has +come to Tony? Though I must confess I have been expecting this for some +time. It had to come." + +"It is a long story, Dad, and I shan't worry you with the details. As +you know, after leaving us, Tony went from one job to another with the +curve steadily downwards. For the last few months, I gather, he has +been living on his wits, helped out by generous contributions from his +sister's wages. Finally he was given a subordinate position under +'The Great War Veterans' who have really been very decent to him. This +position involved the handling of funds--no great amount. Then it was +the old story--gambling and drinking--the loss of all control--desperate +straits--hoping to recoup his losses--and you know the rest." + +"Embezzlement?" asked Maitland. + +"Yes, embezzlement," said Jack. "Tony is not a thief. He didn't +deliberately steal, you understand." + +"Jack," said his father, sharply, "get that out of your head. There is +no such distinction in law or in fact. Stealing is stealing, whatever +the motive behind it, whatever the plan governing it, by whatever name +called." + +"I didn't really mean anything else, Dad. Tony did the thing, at any +rate, and the cops were on his trail. He got into hiding, sent an S. O. +S. to his sister. Annette, driven to desperation, came to me with her +story the night of the Match. She was awfully cut up, poor girl. I had +to leave the dance and go right off to Toronto. Too late for the train, +I drove straight through,--ghastly roads,--found Tony, fetched him back, +and up till yesterday he has been hiding in his own home. Meantime, +I managed to get things fixed up--paid his debts, the prosecution is +withdrawn and now he wants,--or, rather, he doesn't want but needs, a +job." + +Maitland listened with a grave face. "Then the little girl was right, +after all," he said. + +"Meaning?" + +"Patricia," said his father. "She told me a long story of a terrible +accident to Tony that had called you away to Toronto. I must say it was +rather incoherent." + +"But who told her? I swear not a soul knew but his people and myself," +said Jack. + +"Strange how things get out," said his father. "Well, where is Tony +now?" + +"Here, in the outer office." + +"But," said Maitland, desperately, "where can we place him? He is +impossible in any position--dangerous in the office, useless as a +foreman, doubtful and uncertain as a workman." + +"One thing is quite certain," said Jack decidedly, "he must be under +discipline. He is useless on his own. I thought that perhaps he might +work beside me. I could keep an eye on him. Tony has nothing in him +to work with. I should like to hear old Matheson on him--the Reverend +Murdo, I mean. That is a great theme of his--'To the man who has nothing +you can give nothing.'" + +"Matheson?" said Maitland. "A chum of yours, I understand. Radical, eh?" + +"A very decent sort, father," replied Jack. "I have been doing a little +economics with him during the winter. His radicalism is of a sound type, +I think. He is a regular bear at economics and he is even better at the +humanity business, the brother-man stuff. He is really sound there." + +"I can guess what you mean," said his father, "though I don't quite +catch on to all your jargon. But I confess that I suspect there is a +whole lot of nonsense associated with these theories." + +"You will pardon me, Dad," said Jack, "if I suggest that your education +is really not yet complete." + +"Whose is?" inquired his father, curtly. + +"But about Tony," continued Jack, "I wish I had him in a gang under me. +I would work him, or break his neck." + +His father sat silently pondering for some minutes. Then, as if making +a sudden resolve, he said: "Jack, I have been wanting to speak with +you about something for some weeks. I have come to a place where it is +imperative that I get some relief from my load. You see, I am carrying +the whole burden of management practically alone. I look after the +financing, the markets, I keep an eye on production and even upon the +factory management. In normal conditions I could manage to get along, +but in these critical days, when every department calls for close, +constant and sane supervision, I feel that I must have relief. If I +could be relieved of the job of shop management, I could give myself +to the other departments where the situation at present is extremely +critical. I want a manager, Jack. Why not take the job? Now," he +continued, holding up his hand, as his son was about to speak, "listen +for a moment or two. I have said the situation is serious. Let me +explain that. The financing of this business in the present crisis +requires a man's full time and energy. Markets, credits, collections, +all demand the very closest attention." + +Jack glanced at his father's face. For the first time he noticed how +deep-cut were the lines that indicated care, anxiety and worry. A sudden +remorse seized him. + +"I am awfully sorry, sir," he said, "I have not been of much help to +you." + +Maitland waved his hand as if dismissing the suggestion. "Now you know +nothing of the financial side, but you do know men and you can handle +them. You proved that in the war, and, in another way, you proved that +during this recent athletic contest. I followed that very closely and I +say without hesitation that it was a remarkably fine bit of work and the +reactions were of the best. Jack, I believe that you would make a great +manager if you gave yourself to it, and thought it worth while. Now, +listen to me." Thereupon the father proceeded to lay before his son the +immediately pressing problems in the business--the financial obligations +already assumed, the heavy accumulation of stock for which there were no +markets, the increasing costs in production with no hope of relief, but +rather every expectation of added burdens in this direction. + +As he listened to his father, Jack was appalled with what he considered +the overwhelmingly disastrous situation in which the business was +placed. At the same time he saw his father in a new light. This silent, +stern, reserved man assumed a role of hero in his eyes, facing desperate +odds and silently fighting a lonely and doubtful battle. The son was +smitten with a sense of his own futility. In him was born a desire and +a resolve to stand beside his father in this conflict and if the battle +went against them, to share in the defeat. + +"Dad," cried his son impulsively, "I am a rotter. I have been of no help +to you, but only a burden. I had no idea the situation was so serious." +Remorse and alarm showed in his tone. + +"Don't misunderstand me," said his father. "This is new to you and +appears more serious than it is. There is really no ground, or little +ground, for anxiety or alarm. Let me give you the other side." Then he +proceeded to set forth the resources of the business, the extent of +his credit, his plans to meet the present situation and to prepare for +possible emergencies. "We are not at the wall yet, by any means, Jack," +he said, his voice ringing out with a resolute courage. "But I am bound +to say that if any sudden or untoward combination of circumstances, a +strike, for instance, should arise, disaster might follow." + +Jack's heart sank still lower. He was practically certain that a +strike was imminent. Although without any official confirmation of his +suspicions, he had kept his eyes and ears opened and he was convinced +that trouble was unavoidable. As his father continued to set forth his +plans, his admiration for him grew. He brought to bear upon the problems +with which he was grappling a clear head, wide knowledge and steady +courage. He was a general, planning a campaign in the face of serious +odds. He recalled a saying of his old Commander-in-Chief in France: "War +is a business and will be won by the application of business principles +and business methods. Given a body of fighting men such as I command, +the thing becomes a problem of transportation, organization, reserve, +insurance. War is a business and will be won by fighting men directed or +governed by business principles." He was filled with regret that he had +not given himself more during these last months to the study of these +principles. The prospect of a fight against impending disaster touched +his imagination and stimulated him like a bugle call. + +"I see what you want, father," he said. "You want to have some good N. +C. O.'s. The N. C. O. is the backbone of the army," he quoted with a +grin. + +"N. C. O?" echoed his father. He was not sufficiently versed in military +affairs to catch the full meaning of the army rag. + +"What I mean is," said Jack, "that no matter how able a military +commander is, he must have efficient subordinates to carry on. No +Colonel can do his own company and platoon work." + +His father nodded: "You've got it, Jack. I want a manager to whom I can +entrust a policy without ever having to think of it again. I don't want +a man who gets on top of the load, but one who gets under it." + +"You want a good adjutant, father, and a sergeant-major." + +"I suppose so," said the father, "although your military terms are +a little beyond me. After all, the thing is simple enough. On the +management side, we want increase in production, which means decrease in +production costs, and this means better organization of the work and the +workers." + +Jack nodded and after a moment, said: "May I add, sir, one thing more?" + +"Yes," said his father. + +"Team play," said Jack. "That is my specialty, you know. Individualism +in a game may be spectacularly attractive, but it doesn't get the goal." + +"Team play," said his father. "Co-operation, I suppose you mean. My dear +boy, this is no time for experimentation in profit-sharing schemes, if +that is what you are after. Anyway, the history of profiteering schemes +as I have read it is not such as to warrant entire confidence in their +soundness. You cannot change the economic system overnight." + +"That is true enough, Dad," said his son, "and perhaps I am a fool. But +I remember, and you remember, what everybody said, and especially what +the experts said, about the military methods and tactics before the war. +You say you cannot change the economic system overnight, and yet the +whole military system was changed practically overnight. In almost every +particular, there was a complete revolution. Cavalry, fortress defences, +high explosives, the proper place for machine guns, field tactics, +in fact, the whole business was radically changed. And if we hadn't +changed, they would be speaking German in the schools of England, like +enough, by this time." + +"Jack, you may be right," said his father, with a touch of impatience, +"but I don't want to be worried just now. It is easy enough for your +friend, Matheson, and other academic industrial directors, to suggest +experiments with other people's money. If we could only get production, +I would not mind very much what wages we had to pay. But I confess when +industrial strife is added to my other burdens, it is almost more than I +can bear." + +"I am awfully sorry, Dad," replied his son. "I have no wish to worry +you, but how are you going to get production? Everybody says it has +fallen off terribly during and since the war. How are you going to bring +it up? Not by the pay envelope, I venture to say, and that is why I +suggested team play. And I am not thinking about co-operative schemes +of management, either. Some way must be found to interest the fellows in +their job, in the work itself, as distinct from the financial returns. +Unless the chaps are interested in the game, they won't get the goals." + +"My boy," said his father wearily, "that old interest in work is gone. +That old pride in work which we used to feel when I was at the job +myself, is gone. We have a different kind of workman nowadays." + +"Dad, don't believe that," said Jack. "Remember the same thing was said +before the war. We used to hear all about that decadent race stuff. The +war proved it to be all rot. The race is as fine as ever it was. Our +history never produced finer fighting men." + +"You may be right," said his father. "If we could only get rid of these +cursed agitators." + +"There again, Dad, if you will excuse me, I believe you are mistaken. +I have been working with these men for the last nine months, I have +attended very regularly the meetings of their unions and I have studied +the whole situation with great care. The union is a great institution. I +am for it heart and soul. It is soundly and solidly democratic, and the +agitators cut very little figure. I size up the whole lot about this +way: Fifty per cent of the men are steady-going fellows with ambition to +climb; twenty-five per cent are content to grub along for the day's pay +and with no great ambition worrying them. Of the remainder, ten per +cent are sincere and convinced reformers, more or less half-baked +intellectuals; ten per cent love the sound of their own voices, hate +work and want to live by their jaw, five per cent only are unscrupulous +and selfish agitators. But, Dad, believe me, fire-brands may light +fires, but solid fagots only can keep fires going. You cannot make +conflagrations out of torches alone." + +"That is Matheson, I suppose," said his father, smiling at him. + +"Well, I own up. I have got a lot of stuff from Matheson. All the same I +believe I have fairly sized up the labour situation." + +"Boy, boy," said his father, "I am tired of it all. I believe with some +team play you and I could make it go. Alone, I am not so sure. Will you +take the job?" + +There was silence between them for a few minutes. Then Jack answered +slowly: "I am not sure of myself at all, Dad, but I can see you must +have someone and I am willing to try the planing mill." + +"Thank you, boy," said his father, stretching his hand quickly across +the table, "I will back you up and won't worry you. Within reasonable +limits I will give you a free hand." + +"I know you will, Dad," said Jack, "and of course I have been in the +army long enough to know the difference between the O. C. and the +sergeant-major." + +"Now, what about Tony?" inquired Maitland, reverting suddenly to what +both felt to be a painful and perplexing problem. "What are we to do +with him?" + +"I will take him on," said Jack. "I suppose I must." + +"He will be a heavy handicap to you, boy. Is there no other way?" + +"I see no other way," Jack replied. "I will give him a trial. Shall I +bring him in?" + +"Bring him in." + +In a minute or two Jack returned with Tony. As Maitland's eyes fell upon +him, he could not prevent a start of shocked surprise. + +"Why, Tony!" he exclaimed. "What in all the world is wrong with you? You +are ill." Trembling, pale, obviously unstrung, Tony stood before him, +his shifty eyes darting now at one face, then at the other, his hands +restless, his whole appearance suggesting an imminent nervous collapse. +"Why, Tony, boy, what is wrong with you?" repeated Maitland. The kindly +tone proved too much for Tony's self-control. He gulped, choked, and +stood speechless, his eyes cast down to the floor. + +"Sit down, Tony," said Maitland. "Give him a chair, Jack." + +But Jack said, "He doesn't need a chair. He is not here for a visit. You +wanted to say something to him, did you not?" Jack's dry, matter-of-fact +and slightly contemptuous tone had an instant and extraordinary effect +upon the wretched man beside him. + +Instantly, Tony stiffened up. His head went back, he cast a swift glance +at Jack's face, whose smile, slightly quizzical, slightly contemptuous, +appeared to bite into his vitals. A hot flame of colour swept his pale +and pasty face. + +"I want a job, sir," he said, in a tone low and fierce, looking straight +at Mr. Maitland. + +Maitland, taking his cue from his son, replied in a quiet voice: "Can +you hold a job?" + +"God knows," said Tony. + +"He does," replied Maitland, "but what about you?" + +Tony stood for a few moments saying nothing, darting uncertain glances +now and then at Jack, on whose face still lingered the smile which Tony +found so disturbing. + +"If you want work," continued Mr. Maitland, "and want to make it go, +Tony, you can go with Jack. He will give it to you." + +"Jack!" exclaimed Tony. His face was a study. Uncertainty, fear, hope, +disappointment were all there. + +"Yes, Jack," said Mr. Maitland. "He is manager in these works now." + +Tony threw back his head and laughed. "I guess I will have to work, +then," he said. + +"You just bet you will, Tony," replied Jack. "Come along, we will go." + +"Where?" + +"I am taking you home. See you to-night, sir," Jack added, nodding to +his father. + +The two young men passed out together to the car. + +"Yes, Tony," said Jack, "I have taken over your job." + +"My job? What do you mean by that?" asked Tony, bitter and sullen in +face and tone. + +"I am the new manager of the planing mill. Dad had you slated for that +position, but you hadn't manager-timber in you." + +Tony's answer was an oath, deep and heartfelt. + +"Yes," continued Jack, "manager-timber is rare and slow-growing stuff, +Tony." + +Again Tony swore but kept silence, and so remained till they had reached +his home. Together they walked into the living room. There they found +Annette, and with her McNish. Both rose upon their entrance, McNish +showing some slight confusion, and assuming the attitude of a bulldog on +guard, Annette vividly eager, expectant, anxious. + +"Well," she cried, her hands going fluttering to her bosom. + +"I have got a job, Annette," said Tony, with a short laugh. "Here is my +boss." + +For a moment the others stood looking at Jack, surprised into motionless +silence. + +"I tell you, he is the new manager," repeated Tony, "and he is my boss." + +"What does he mean, Jack?" cried the girl, coming forward to Maitland +with a quick, impulsive movement. + +"Just what he says, Annette. I am the new manager of the planing mill +and I have given Tony a job." + +Again there fell a silence. Into the eyes of the bulldog McNish there +shot a strange gleam of something that seemed almost like pleasure. In +those brief moments of silence life was readjusting itself with them +all. Maitland had passed from the rank and file of the workers into the +class of those who direct and control their work. Bred as they were and +trained as they were in the democratic atmosphere of Canada, they were +immediately conscious of the shifting of values. + +Annette was the first to break silence. "I wish I could thank you," she +said, "but I cannot. I cannot." The girl's face had changed. The eager +light had faded from her dark eyes, her hands dropped quietly to her +side. "But I am sure you know," she added after a pause, "how very, very +grateful I am, how grateful we all are, Mr. Maitland." + +"Annette," said Jack severely, "drop that 'Mr.' stuff. I was your friend +yesterday. Am I any less your friend to-day? True enough, I am Tony's +boss, but Tony is my friend--that is, if he wants to have it so. You +must believe this, Annette." + +He offered her his hand. With a sudden impulse she took it in both of +hers and held it hard against her breast, her eyes meanwhile burning +into his with a look of adoration, open and unashamed. She apparently +forgot the others in the room. + +"Jack," she cried, her voice thrilling with passion, "I don't care what +you are. I don't care what you think. I will never, never forget what +you have done for me." + +Maitland flung a swift glance at McNish and was startled at the look of +rage, of agonised rage, that convulsed his face. + +"My dear Annette," he said, with a light laugh, "don't make too much of +it. I was glad to help Tony and you. Why shouldn't I help old friends?" + +As he was speaking they heard the sound of a door closing and looking +about, Jack found that McNish had gone, to be followed by Tony a moment +or two later. + +"Oh, never mind him," cried Annette, answering Jack's look of surprise. +"He has to go to work. And it doesn't matter in the least." + +Jack was vaguely disturbed by McNish's sudden disappearance. + +"But, Annette," he said, "I don't want McNish to think that I--that +you--" + +"What?" She leaned toward him, her face all glowing with warm and eager +light, her eyes aflame, her bosom heaving. "What, Jack?" she whispered. +"What does it matter what he thinks?" + +He put out his hands. With a quick, light step she was close to him, her +face lifted up in passionate surrender. Swiftly Jack's arms went around +her and he drew her toward him. + +"Annette, dear," he said, and his voice was quiet and kind, too kind. +"You are a dear girl and a good girl, and I am glad to have helped you +and shall always be glad to help you." + +The door opened and Tony slipped into the room. With passionate +violence, Annette threw away the encircling arms. + +"Ah!" she cried, a sob catching her voice. "You--you shame me. No--I +shame myself." Rigid, with head flung back, she stood before him, her +eyes ablaze with passionate anger, her hands clenched tight. She had +flung herself at him and had been rejected. + +"What the devil is this?" cried Tony, striding toward them. "What is he +doing to you, Annette?" + +"He?" cried Annette, her breath coming in sobs. "To me? Nothing! Keep +out of it, Tony." She pushed him fiercely aside. "He has done nothing! +No! No! Nothing but what is good and kind. Ah! kind. Yes, kind." Her +voice rose shrill in scorn of herself and of him. "Oh, yes, he is kind." +She laughed wildly, then broke into passionate tears. She turned from +them and fled to her room, leaving the two men looking at each other. + +"Poor child," said Jack, the first to recover speech. "She is quite all +in. She has had two hard weeks of it." + +"Two hard weeks," repeated Tony, his eyes glaring. "What is the matter +with my sister? What have you done to her?" His voice was like the growl +of a savage dog. + +"Don't be a confounded fool, Tony," replied Jack. "You ought to know +what is the matter with your sister. You have had something to do with +it. And now your job is to see if you can make it up to her. To-morrow +morning, at seven o'clock, remember," he said curtly, and, turning on +his heel, he passed out. + +It seemed to Jack as he drove home that life had suddenly become a +tangle of perplexities and complications. First there was Annette. He +was genuinely distressed as he thought of the scene through which they +had just passed. That he himself had anything to do with her state of +mind did not occur to him. + +"Poor little girl," he said to himself, "she really needs a change of +some sort, a complete rest. We must find some way of helping her. She +will be all right in a day or two." With which he dismissed the subject. + +Then there was McNish. McNish was a sore puzzle to him. He had come +to regard the Scotchman with a feeling of sincere friendliness. He +remembered gratefully his ready and efficient help against the attacks +of the radical element among his fellow workmen. On several occasions +he, with the Reverend Murdo Matheson, had foregathered in the McNish +home to discuss economic problems over a quiet pipe. He was always +conscious of a reserve deepening at times to a sullenness in McNish's +manner, the cause of which he could not certainly discover. That McNish +was possessed of a mentality of more than ordinary power there was +no manner of doubt. Jack had often listened with amazement to his +argumentation with the Reverend Murdo, against whom he proved over and +over again his ability to hold his own, the minister's superiority as +a trained logician being more than counterbalanced by his antagonist's +practical experience. + +As he thought of these evenings, he was ready to believe that his +suspicion of the Scotchman's ill-will toward himself was due largely to +imagination, and yet he could not rid himself of the unpleasant memory +of McNish's convulsed face that afternoon. + +"What the deuce is the matter with the beggar, anyway?" he said to +himself. + +Suddenly a new suggestion came to him. + +"It can't be," he added, "surely the idiot is not jealous." Then he +remembered Annette's attitude at the moment, her hands pressing his hard +to her breast, her face lifted up in something more than appeal. +"By Jove! I believe that may be it," he mused. "And Annette? Had +she observed it? What was in her heart? Was there a reason for the +Scotchman's jealousy on that side?" + +This thought disturbed him greatly. He was not possessed of a larger +measure of self-conceit than falls to the lot of the average young man, +but the thought that possibly Annette had come to regard him other than +as a friend released a new tide of emotion within him. Rapidly he passed +in review many incidents in their association during the months since he +returned from the war, and gradually the conviction forced itself upon +him that possibly McNish was not without some cause for jealousy. It +was rotten luck and was bound to interfere with their present happy +relations. Yet none the less was he conscious that it was not altogether +an unpleasant thought to him that in some subtle way a new bond had been +established between this charming young girl and himself. + +But he must straighten things out with McNish at the very first +opportunity. He was a decent chap and would make Annette a first-rate +husband. Indeed, it pleased Jack not a little to feel that he would be +able to further the fortunes of both. McNish had good foreman timber in +him and would make a capable assistant. As to this silly prejudice of +his, Jack resolved that he would take steps immediately to have that +removed. That he could accomplish this he had little doubt. + +But the most acutely pressing of the problems that engaged his mind were +those that arose out of his new position as manager. The mere organizing +and directing of men in their work gave him little anxiety. He was sure +of himself as far as that was concerned. He was sure of his ability +to introduce among the men a system of team play that would result in +increased production and would induce altogether better results. He +thought he knew where the weak spots were. He counted greatly upon the +support of the men who had been associated with him in the Maitland +Mills Athletic Association. With their backing, he was certain that he +could eliminate most of that very considerable wastage in time that +even a cursory observation had revealed to him in the shops, due to +such causes as dilatory workers, idle machines, lack of co-ordination, +improper routing of work, and the like. He had the suspicion that a +little investigation would reveal other causes of wastage as well. + +There was one feature in the situation that gave him concern and that +was the radical element in the unions. Simmons and his gang had from the +very first assumed an attitude of hostility to himself, had sought to +undermine his influence and had fought his plans for the promotion of +clean sport among the Mill men. None knew better than Simmons that an +active interest in clean and vigorous outdoor sports tended to produce +contentment of mind, and a contented body of men offered unfertile soil +for radical and socialistic doctrines. Hence, Simmons had from the first +openly and vociferously opposed with contemptuous and bitter indignation +all Jack's schemes and plans for the promotion of athletic sports. But +Jack had been able to carry the men with him and the recent splendid +victory over a famous team had done much to discredit brother Simmons +and his propaganda. + +Already Jack was planning a new schedule of games for the summer. +Baseball, football, cricket, would give occupation and interest to all +classes of Mill workers. And in his new position he felt he might be +able, to an even greater degree, to carry out the plans which he had +in mind. On the other hand, he knew full well that men were apt to be +suspicious of welfare schemes "promoted from above." His own hockey men +he felt sure he could carry with him. If he could only win McNish to +be his sergeant-major, success would be assured. This must be his first +care. + +He well knew that McNish had no love for Simmons, whom the Scotchman +despised first, because he was no craftsman, and chiefly because he had +no soundly-based system of economics but was governed by the sheerest +opportunism in all his activities. A combination between McNish and +Simmons might create a situation not easy to deal with. Jack resolved +that that combination should be prevented. He would see McNish at once, +after the meeting of his local, which he remembered was set for that +very night. + +This matter being settled, he determined to proceed immediately to the +office for an interview with Wickes. He must get to know as speedily +as possible something of the shop organization and of its effect upon +production. He found Mr. Wickes awaiting him with tremulous and exultant +delight, eager to put himself, his experience, his knowledge and +all that he possessed at the disposal of the new manager. The whole +afternoon was given to this work, and before the day was done, Jack had +in his mind a complete picture of the planing mill, with every machine +in place and an estimate, more or less exact, of the capacity of every +machine. In the course of this investigation, he was surprised to +discover that there was no detailed record of the actual production +of each machine, nor, indeed, anything in the way of an accurate cost +system in any department of the whole business. + +"How do you keep track of your men and their work, Wickes?" he inquired. + +"Oh!" said the old man, "the foremen know all about that, Mr. Jack." + +"But how can they know? What check have they?" + +"Well, they are always about, Mr. Jack, and keep their eyes on things +generally." + +"I see," said Jack. "And do you find that works quite satisfactorily?" + +"Well, sir, we have never gone into details, you know, Mr. Jack, but if +you wish--" + +"Oh, no, Wickes, I am just trying to get the hang of things, you know." +Jack was unwilling to even suggest a criticism of method at so early +a stage in his managerial career. "I want to know how you run things, +Wickes, and at any time I shall be glad of assistance from you." + +The old bookkeeper hastened to give him almost tearful assurance of his +desire to assist to the utmost of his power. + +The meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union was largely attended, +a special whip having been sent out asking for a full meeting on the +ground that a matter of vital importance to unionised labour was to be +considered. + +The matter of importance turned out to be nothing less than a +proposition that the Woodworkers' Union should join with all other +unions in the town to make a united demand upon their respective +employers for an increase in wages and better conditions all around, in +connection with their various industries. The question was brought up in +the form of a resolution from their executive, which strongly urged +that this demand should be approved and that a joint committee should be +appointed to take steps for the enforcement of the demand. The executive +had matters thoroughly in hand. Brother Simmons and the more radical +element were kept to the background, the speakers chosen to present the +case being all moderates. There was no suggestion of extreme measures. +Their demands were reasonable, and it was believed that the employers +were prepared to give fair consideration--indeed, members had had +assurance from an authoritative quarter on the other side that such was +the case. + +Notwithstanding the moderate tone adopted in presenting it, the +resolution met with strenuous opposition. The great majority of those +present were quiet, steady-going men who wanted chiefly to be let alone +at their work and who were hostile to the suggested action, which might +finally land them in "trouble." The old-time workers in the Maitland +Mills had no grievances against their employer. They, of course, would +gladly accept an increase in wages, for the cost of living was steadily +climbing, but they disliked intensely the proposed method of making a +general demand for an increase in wages and for better conditions. + +The sporting element in the meeting were frankly and fiercely +antagonistic to anything that would disturb the present friendly +relation with their employers in the Maitland Mills. "The old man" had +always done the square thing. He had shown himself a "regular fellow" in +backing them up in all their games during the past year. He had always +given them a fair hearing and a square deal. They would not stand for +any hold-up game of this sort. It was a low-down game, anyway. + +The promoters of the resolution began to be anxious for their cause. +They had not anticipated any such a strong opposition and were rather +nonplussed as to the next move. Brother Simmons was in a fury and was on +the point of breaking forth into a passionate denunciation of scabs and +traitors generally when, to the amazement of all and the intense +delight of the supporters of the administration, McNish arose and gave +unqualified support to the resolution. + +His speech was a masterpiece of diplomacy, and revealed his long +practice in the art of oratory in that best of all training schools, +the labour union of the Old Land. He began by expressing entire +sympathy with the spirit of the opposition. The opposition, however, had +completely misunderstood the intent and purport of the resolution. None +of them desired trouble. There need not be, indeed, he hoped there would +not be trouble, but there were certain very ugly facts that must be +faced. He then, in terse, forceful language, presented the facts +in connection with the cost of living, quoting statistics from the +Department of Labour to show the steady rise in the price of articles +of food, fuel and clothing since the beginning of the war, a truly +appalling array. He had secured price lists from dealers in these +commodities, both wholesale and retail, to show the enormous profits +made during the war. There were returned soldiers present. They had not +hesitated at the call of duty to give all they had for their country. +They had been promised great things when they had left their homes, +their families, their business and their jobs. How had they found things +upon their return? He illustrated his argument from the cases of men +present. It was a sore spot with many of them and he pressed hard upon +it. They were suffering to-day; worse, their wives and children were +suffering. Had anyone heard of their employers suffering? Here again he +offered illustrations of men who had made a good thing out of the war. +True, there were many examples of the other kind of employer, but they +must deal with classes and not individuals in a case like this. This was +part of a much bigger thing than any mere local issue. He drew upon his +experience in the homeland with overwhelming effect. His voice rose and +rolled in his richest Doric as he passionately denounced the tyranny of +the masters in the coal and iron industries in the homeland. He was not +an extremist; he had never been one. Indeed, all who knew him would bear +him out when he said that he had been an opponent of Brother Simmons and +those who thought with him on economic questions. This sudden change in +attitude would doubtless surprise his brothers. He had been forced to +change by the stern logic of facts. There was nothing in this resolution +which any reasonable worker might object to. There was nothing in the +resolution that every worker with any sympathy with his fellow workers +should not support. Moreover, he warned them that if they presented +a united front, there would be little fear of trouble. If they were +divided in their ranks, or if they were halfhearted in their demands, +they would invite opposition and, therefore, trouble. He asked them all +to stand together in supporting a reasonable demand, which he felt sure +reasonable men would consider favorably. + +The effect of his speech was overwhelming. The administration supporters +were exuberant in their enthusiastic applause and in their vociferous +demands for a vote. The opposition were paralysed by the desertion of +one whom they had regarded and trusted as a leader against the radical +element and were left without answer to the masterly array of facts and +arguments which he had presented. + +At this point, the door opened and Maitland walked in. A few moments of +tense silence, and then something seemed to snap. The opposition, led +by the hockey men and their supporters, burst into a demonstration +of welcome. The violence of the demonstration was not solely upon +Maitland's account. The leaders of the opposition were quick to realise +that his entrance had created a diversion for them which might save +them from disastrous defeat. They made the most of this opportunity, +prolonging the demonstration and joining in a "chair procession" which +carried Maitland shoulder-high about the room, in the teeth of the +violent protest of Brother Simmons and his following. + +Order being restored, business was again resumed, when Brother Macnamara +rose to his feet and, in a speech incoherent at times, but always +forceful, proposed that the usual order be suspended and that here and +now a motion be carried expressing their gratification at the recent +great hockey victory and referring in highly laudatory terms to the +splendid work of Brother Captain Maitland, to whose splendid efforts +victory was largely due. + +It was in vain that Brother Simmons and those of his way of thinking +sought to stem the tide of disorder. The motion was carried with +acclaim. + +No sooner had this matter been disposed of than Maitland rose to his +feet and said: + +"Mr. President, I wish to thank you all for this very kind reference to +my team and myself. I take very little credit for the victory which we +won. We had a good team, indeed, quite a remarkable team. I have played +in a good many athletic teams of various kinds, but in two particulars +the Maitland Mills Hockey Team is the most remarkable of any I have +known--first, in their splendid loyalty in taking their training and +sticking together; that was beyond all praise; and, secondly, in the +splendid grit which they showed in playing a losing game. Now, Mr. +President, I am going to do something which gives me more regret than +any of you can understand. I have to offer my resignation as a member of +this union. I have accepted the position of manager of the planing mill +and I understand that this makes it necessary that I resign as a member +of this union. I don't really see why this should be necessary. I don't +believe myself that it should, and, brothers, I expect to live long +enough to belong to a union that will allow a fellow like me to be a +member with chaps like you. But meantime, for the present I must resign. +You have treated me like a brother and a chum. I have learned a lot +from you all, but one thing especially, which I shall never forget: +that there is no real difference in men that is due to their position in +life; that a man's job doesn't change his heart." + +He paused for a few moments as if to gather command of his voice, which +had become suddenly husky. + +"I am sorry to leave you, boys, and I want to say to you from my heart +that though I cannot remain a member of this union, I can be and I will +be a brother to you all the same. And I promise you that, as far as I +can, I will work for the good of the union in the future as I have done +in the past." + +McNish alone was prepared for this dramatic announcement, although they +all knew that Maitland sooner or later would assume a position +which would link him up with the management of the business. But the +suddenness of the change and the dramatic setting of the announcement +created an impression so profound as to neutralise completely the effect +of McNish's masterly speech. + +Disappointed and enraged at the sudden turn of events, he was too good +a general to allow himself to be routed in disorder. He set about to +gather his disordered forces for a fresh attack, when once more the +hockey men took command of the field. This time it was Snoopy Sykes, the +most voiceless member of the union. + +After a few moments of dazed silence that followed Maitland's +announcement of his resignation, Snoopy rose and, encouraged by the +cheers of his astonished comrades, began the maiden speech of his life. + +"Mr. President," he shouted. + +"Go to it, Snoopy, old boy." + +"I never made a speech in my life, never--" + +"Good, old scout, never begin younger! Cheerio, old son!" + +"And I want to say that he don't need to. I once heard of a feller who +didn't. He kept on and he didn't do no harm to nobody. And the Captain +here wouldn't neither. So what I say is he don't need to," and Snoopy +sat down with the whole brotherhood gazing at him in silence and amazed +perplexity, not one of them being able to attach the faintest meaning to +Snoopy's amazing oration. + +At length Fatty Findlay, another of the voiceless ones, but the very +special pal of Snoopy Sykes, broke forth in a puzzled voice: + +"Say it again, Snoopy." + +There was a roar of laughter, which only grew in volume as Snoopy turned +toward his brothers a wrathful and bewildered countenance. + +"No," said another voice. "Say something else, Snoopy. Shoot a goal this +time." + +Again Snoopy rose. "What I said was this," he began indignantly. Again +there was a roar of laughter. + +"Say, you fellers, shut up and give a feller a chance. The Captain wants +to resign. I say 'No.' He is a darned good scout. We want him and we +won't let him go. Let him keep his card." + +"By the powers," roared Macnamara, "it is a goal, Snoopy. It's a +humdinger. I second the motion." + +It was utterly in vain that Brother Simmons and his whole following +pointed out unitedly and successively the utter impossibility and +absurdity of the proposal which was unconstitutional and without +precedent. The hockey team had the company with them and with the bit in +their teeth swept all before them. + +At this point, McNish displayed the master-hand that comes from long +experience. He saw his opportunity and seized it. + +"Mr. President," he said, and at once he received the most complete +attention. "A confess this is a most extraordinary proposal, but A'm +goin' tae support it." The roar that answered told him that he +had regained control of the meeting. "Brother Simmons says it is +unconstitutional and without precedent. He is no correct in this. A +have known baith maisters and managers who retained their union cards. +A grant ye it is unusual, but may I point oot that the circumstances are +unusual?"--Wild yells of approval--"And Captain Maitland is an unusual +man"--louder yells of approval--"It may that there is something in the +constitution o' this union that stands in the way--Cries of "No! No!" +and consignment of the constitution to a nameless locality.--"A venture +to suggest that a committee be appointed, consisting of Brothers Sykes, +Macnamara and the chairman, wi' poors tae add, tae go into this maitter +with Captain Maitland and report." + +It was a master-stroke. A true union man regards with veneration the +constitution and hesitates to tamper with it except in a perfectly +constitutional manner. The opposition to the administration's original +resolution had gained what they sought, a temporary stay. The committee +was appointed and the danger to both the resolution and the constitution +for the present averted. + +Again Mr. McNish took command. "And noo, Mr. President," he said, "the +oor is late. We are all tired and we all wish to give mair thocht to the +main maitter before us. A move, therefore, that we adjourn to the call +o' the Executive." + +Once more Brother Simmons found himself in a protesting minority, and +the meeting broke up, the opposition jubilant over their victory, the +supporters of the administration determined to await a more convenient +time. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +LIGHT THAT IS DARKNESS + + +At the next monthly meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union, the +executive had little difficulty in finally shelving the report of its +committee appointed to deal with the resignation of Captain Maitland, +and as little difficulty in passing by unanimous vote their resolution +held up at the last meeting. The allied unions had meantime been +extended to include the building trades. Their organization had been +perfected and their discipline immensely strengthened. Many causes +contributed to this result. A month's time had elapsed and the high +emotional tides due to athletic enthusiasm, especially the hockey +victory, had had space to subside. The dead season for all outdoor games +was upon them and the men, losing touch with each other and with their +captain, who was engrossed in studying his new duties, began to spend +their leisure hours in loafing about the streets or lounging in the pool +rooms. + +All over the country the groundswell of unrest was steadily and rapidly +rising. The returned soldiers who had failed to readjust themselves to +the changed conditions of life and to the changes wrought in themselves +by the war, embittered, disillusioned and disappointed, fell an easy +prey to unscrupulous leaders and were being exploited in the interests +of all sorts of fads and foolish movements. Their government bonuses +were long since spent and many of them, through no fault of their own, +found themselves facing a situation full of difficulty, hardship, and +often of humiliation. + +Under the influence of financial inflation and deceived by the abundant +flow of currency in every department of business, industries by the +score started up all over the land. Few could foresee the approach of +dark and stern days. It was in vain that financial leaders began to +sound a note of warning, calling for retrenchment and thrift. And now +the inevitable results were beginning to appear. The great steel and +coal industries began to curtail their operations, while desperately +striving to maintain war prices for their products. Other industries +followed their example. All the time the cost of living continued +to mount. Foodstuffs reached unheard-of prices, which, under the +manipulations of unscrupulous dealers, continued to climb. + +Small wonder that working men with high wages and plenty of money in +their hands cherished exaggerated ideas of their wealth and developed +extravagant tastes in dress, amusements and in standard of living. With +the rest of the world, they failed to recognise the fact that money +was a mere counter in wealth and not wealth itself. To a large extent, +thrift was abandoned and while deposits in the savings banks grew in +volume, the depositors failed to recognise the fact that the value of +the dollar had decreased fifty per cent. Already the reaction from all +this had begun to set in. Nervousness paralysed the great financial +institutions. The fiat went forth "No more money for industrial +enterprises. No more advances on wholesale stocks." The order was issued +"Retrench. Take your losses, unload your stocks." This men were slow to +do, and while all agreed upon the soundness of the policy, each waited +for the other to begin. + +Through the month of April anxiety, fear and discontent began to haunt +the minds of business men. In the labour world the High Command was +quick to sense the approach of a crisis and began to make preparations +for the coming storm. The whole industrial and commercial world +gradually crystallised into its two opposing classes. A subsidised press +began earnestly to demand lower cost in productions retrenchment in +expenditure, a cut in labour costs, a general and united effort to meet +the inevitable burden of deflation. + +On the other hand, an inspired press began to raise an outcry against +the increasing cost of living, to point out the effect of the house +famine upon the income of the working man, and to sound a warning as to +the danger and folly of any sudden reduction in the wage scale. + +Increased activity in the ranks of organised labour began to be +apparent. Everywhere the wild and radical element was gaining in +influence and in numbers, and the spirit of faction and internecine +strife became rampant. + +It was due to the dominating forcefulness of McNish, the leader of +the moderates, that the two factions in the allied unions had been +consolidated, and a single policy agreed upon. His whole past had been +a preparation for just a crisis as the present. His wide reading, his +shrewd practical judgment, his large experience in labour movements in +the Old Land, gave him a position of commanding influence which enabled +him to dominate the executives and direct their activities. His sudden +and unexplained acceptance of the more radical program won for him an +enthusiastic following of the element which had hitherto recognised the +leadership of Brother Simmons. Day and night, with a zeal that never +tired, he laboured at the work of organising and disciplining the +various factions and parties in the ranks of labour into a single +compact body of fighting men under a single command. McNish was in the +grip of one of the mightiest of human passions. Since that day in the +Perrotte home, when he had seen the girl that he loved practically offer +herself, as he thought, to another man, he had resolutely kept himself +away from her. He had done with her forever and he had torn out of his +heart the genuine friendship which he had begun to hold toward the man +who had deprived him of her love. But deep in his heart he nourished a +passion for vengeance that became an obsession, a madness with him. He +merely waited the opportunity to gratify his passion. + +He learned that the Maitland Mills were in deep water, financially. His +keen economic instinct and his deep study of economic movements told +him that a serious financial crisis, continent-wide, was inevitable and +imminent. It only needed a successful labour war to give the final touch +that would bring the whole industrial fabric tumbling into ruin. The +desire for immediate revenge upon the man toward whom he had come to +cherish an implacable hatred would not suffer him to await the onset of +a nation-wide industrial crisis. He fancied that he saw the opportunity +for striking an immediate blow here in Blackwater. + +He steadily thwarted Maitland's attempts to get into touch with him, +whether at the works or in his own home, where Maitland had become +a frequent visitor. He was able only partially to allay his mother's +anxiety and her suspicion that all was not well with him. That shrewd +old lady knew her son well enough to suspect that some untoward +circumstance had befallen him, but she knew also that she could do no +more than bide her time. + +With the workers of the Maitland Mills circumstances favoured the plans +of McNish and the Executive of the allied unions. The new manager was +beginning to make his hand felt upon the wheel. Checks upon wastage in +labour time and in machine time were being instituted; everywhere there +was a tightening up of loose screws and a knitting up of loose ends, +with the inevitable consequent irritation. This was especially true in +the case of Tony Perrotte, to whom discipline was ever an external force +and never an inward compulsion. Inexact in everything he did, irregular +in his habits, irresponsible in his undertakings, he met at every turn +the pressure of the firm, resolute hand of the new manager. Deep down +in his heart there was an abiding admiration and affection for Jack +Maitland, but he loathed discipline and kicked against it. + +The first of May is ever a day of uncertainty and unrest in the world +of labour. It is a time for readjustment, for the fixing of wage scales, +for the assertion of labour rights and the ventilating of labour wrongs. +It is a time favourable to upheaval, and is therefore awaited by all +employers of labour with considerable anxiety. + +On the surface there was not a ripple to indicate that as far as the +Maitland Mills were concerned there was beneath a surging tide of +unrest. So undisturbed indeed was the surface that the inexperienced +young manager was inclined to make light of the anxieties of his father, +and was confident in his assurance that the danger of a labour crisis +had, for the present at least, been averted. + +Out of the blue heaven fell the bolt. The mails on May Day morning +brought to the desk of every manager of every industry in Blackwater, +and to every building contractor, a formal document setting forth in +terms courteous but firm the demands of the executives of the allied +unions of Blackwater. + +"Well, it has come, boy," was Maitland's greeting to his son, who came +into the office for the usual morning consultation. + +"What?" said Jack. + +"War," replied his father, tossing him the letter and watching his face +as he read it. + +Jack handed him the letter without a word. + +"Well, what do you think of it?" said his father. + +"It might be worse." + +"Worse?" roared his father. "Worse? How can it be worse?" + +"Well, it is really a demand for an increase in wages. The others, I +believe, are mere frills. And between ourselves, sir, though I haven't +gone into it very carefully, I am not sure but that an increase in wages +is about due." + +Maitland glowered at his son in a hurt and hopeless rage. + +"An increase in wages due?" he said. "After the increase of six months +ago? The thing is preposterous. The ungrateful scoundrels!" + +At this point the telephone upon his desk rang. Jack took up the +receiver. + +"Good morning, Mr. McGinnis. . . . Yes, he is here. Yes. . . . At least, +I suppose so. . . . Oh, I don't know. . . . It is rather peremptory. +. . . All right, sir, I shall tell him." + +"Let me talk to him," said his father, impatiently. + +"Never mind just now, Dad," said Jack, with his hand over the receiver. +Then through the telephone he said: "All right, sir; he will await you +here. Good morning." + +". . . The old boy is wild," said Jack with a slight laugh. "The wires +are quite hot." + +"This is no joke, Jack, I can tell you. McGinnis is coming over, is he?" + +"Yes," replied Jack, "but we won't get much help from him." + +"Why not?" inquired his father. "He is a very shrewd and able business +man." + +"He may be all that, sir, but in a case like this, if you really want my +opinion, and I have no wish to be disrespectful, he is a hot-headed ass. +Just the kind of employer to rejoice the heart of a clever labour leader +who is out for trouble. Dad," and Jack's voice became very earnest, +"let's work this out by ourselves. We can handle our own men better +without the help of McGinnis or any other." + +"That is just the trouble. Look at this precious document, 'The Allied +Unions.' What have I got to do with them? And signed by Simmons and +McDonough. Who is McDonough, pray?" + +"McDonough? Oh, I know McDonough. He is a little like +McGinnis--big-hearted, hot-headed, good in a scrap, useless in a +conference. But I suggest, sir, that we ignore the slight unpleasant +technicalities in the manner and method of negotiation and try to deal +with our own people in a reasonable way." + +"I am ready always to meet my own people, but I refuse utterly to deal +with this committee!" It was not often that Mr. Maitland became profane, +but in his description of this particular group of individuals his +ordinary English suffered a complete collapse. + +"Dad, McGinnis will be here in a few minutes. I should like to suggest +one or two things, if you will allow me." + +"Go on," said his father quickly. + +"Dad, this is war, and I have learned a little about that game 'over +there.' And I have learned something about it in my athletic activities. +The first essential is to decline to play the enemy's game. Let's +discover his plan of campaign. As I read this document, the thing that +hits my eye is this: do they really want the things they ask for, or +is the whole thing a blind? What I mean is, do they really want war or +peace? I say let's feel them out. If they are after peace, the thing +is easy. If they want war, this may come to be a very serious thing. +Meantime, Dad, let's not commit ourselves to McGinnis. Let's play it +alone." + +Mr. Maitland's lips had set in a thin, hard line. His face was like a +mask of grey steel. He sat thinking silently. + +"Here he comes," said Jack, looking out of the window. "Dad, you asked +me to come into this with you. Let's play the game together. I found it +wise to place the weight on the defence line. Will you play defence in +this?" + +The lines in his father's face began to relax. + +"All right, boy, we'll play it together, and meantime I shall play +defence." + +"By Jove, Dad," cried Jack, in a tone of exultant confidence, "we'll +beat 'em. And now here comes that old Irish fire-eater. I'll go. No +alliance, Dad, remember." His father nodded as Jack left the room, to +return almost immediately with Mr. McGinnis, evidently quite incoherent +with rage. + +In the outer office Jack paused beside the desk of the old bookkeeper. +From behind the closed door came the sound of high explosives. + +"Rough stuff in there, eh, Wickes," said Jack, with a humorous smile. +For some moments he stood listening. "War is a terrible thing," he added +with a grin. + +"What seems to be the matter, Mr. Jack?" + +Jack laid before him the document sent out by the Allied Unions. + +"Oh, this is terrible, Mr. Jack! And just at this time. I am very much +afraid it will ruin us." + +"Ruin us? Rot. Don't ever say that word again. We will possibly have +a jolly good row. Someone will be hurt and perhaps all of us, more or +less, but I don't mean to be beaten, if I know myself," he added, with +the smile on his face that his hockey team loved to see before a match. +"Now, Wickes," continued Jack, "get that idea of failure out of +your mind. We are going to win. And meantime, let us prepare for our +campaign. Here's a bit of work I want you to do for me. Get four things +for me: the wages for the last three years--you have the sheets?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"--The cost of living from the Labour Gazette for the last three +years--you have them here--and the rates of increase in wages. Plot a +diagram showing all these things. You know what I mean?" + +"Yes, sir, I understand." + +"And find out the wages paid at our competing points." + +"All right, Mr. Jack. I know what you want. I can give you the necessary +information in regard to the first three points almost at once. It will +take some days, however, to get the wages of our competing points." + +"All right, old boy. Carry on!" said Jack, and with the same smile on +his face he passed out of the office into the shops. + +It amused him slightly to observe the change in the attitude and bearing +of his men. They would not look at him fairly in the face. Even Snoopy +Sykes and Macnamara avoided his glance. But he had for everyone his +usual cheery word. Why should he not? These chaps had no hatred for him, +nor he for them. He had come to understand union methods of discipline +and recognised fully the demands for loyalty and obedience imposed upon +its members by the organisation. These men of his were bound to the +union by solemn obligations. He bore them no ill-will on that score. +Rather he respected them the more for it. If a fight was inevitable, he +would do his best to beat them but he would allow no spirit of hatred to +change his mind toward them nor cloud his judgment. + +The day was full of excursions and alarms. A hurry call was sent out by +McGinnis to all employers who had received copies of the document from +the Allied Unions. In the afternoon a meeting was held in the Board +of Trade Building, but it was given over chiefly to vituperation and +threatening directed toward their variously described employees. With +one heart and voice all affirmed with solemn, and in many cases with +profane oaths that they would not yield a jot to the insolent demands of +this newly organised body. + +"I have already sent my answer," shouted Mr. McGinnis. + +"What did you say, Mac?" + +"Told 'em to go to hell, and told 'em that if any of these highly +coloured committee men came on my premises, I would kick 'em into the +middle of next week." + +Jack, who was present at the meeting, sat listening with silent and +amused pity. They seemed to him so like a group of angry children whose +game had suddenly been interfered with and whose rage rendered them +incapable of coherent thought. + +Grant Maitland, who, throughout the meeting had sat silent, finally rose +and said: "Gentlemen, the mere expression of feeling may afford a +sort of satisfaction but the question is, What is to be done? That the +situation is grave for all of us we know too well. Not many of us are in +a position to be indifferent to a strike. Let us get down to business. +What shall we do?" + +"Fight them to a finish! Smash the unions!" were the suggestions in +various forms and with various descriptive adjectives. + +"It may come to a fight, gentlemen, but however gratifying a fight may +be to our feelings, a fight may be disastrous to our business. A strike +may last for weeks, perhaps months. Are we in a position to stand that? +And as for smashing the unions, let us once and for all put such +a thought out of our minds. These unions have all international +affiliations. It is absurd to imagine that we here in Blackwater could +smash a single union." + +Fiercely McGinnis made reply. "I want to tell you right here and now +that I am prepared to close down and go out of business but I will have +no outside committee tell me how to run my job." + +But no one took this threat seriously, and no one but knew that a +shut-down for any of them might mean disaster. They all recalled those +unfilled orders which they were straining every nerve to complete before +the market should break, or cancellation should come. It added not a +little to their rage that they knew themselves to be held in the grip of +circumstances over which they had little control. + +After much angry deliberation it was finally agreed that they should +appoint a committee to consider the whole situation and to prepare a +plan of action. Meantime the committee were instructed to temporise with +the enemy. + +The evening papers announced the imminence of a strike the extent +and magnitude of which had never been experienced in the history +of Blackwater. Everywhere the citizens of the industrial town were +discussing the disturbing news anxiously, angrily, indifferently, +according as they were variously affected. But there was a general +agreement among all classes of citizens that a strike in the present +industrial and financial situation which was already serious enough, +would be nothing short of a calamity, because no matter what the issue +would be, no matter which of the parties won in the conflict, a fight +meant serious loss not only to the two parties immediately concerned, +but to the whole community as well. With the rank and file of the +working people there was little heart for a fight. More especially, men +upon whom lay the responsibility for the support of homes shrank from +the pain and the suffering, as well as from the loss which experience +taught them a strike must entail. It is safe to say that in every +working man's home in Blackwater that night there was to be found a +woman who, as she put her children to bed, prayed that trouble might +be averted, for she knew that in every war it is upon the women and +children that in the last analysis the sorest burden must fall. To +them even victory would mean for many months a loss of luxuries for the +family, it might be of comforts; and defeat, which would come not until +after long conflict, would mean not only straitened means but actual +poverty, with all the attendant humiliation and bitterness which would +kill for them the joy of life and sensibly add to its already heavy +burden. + +That night Jack Maitland felt that a chat with the Reverend Murdo +Matheson might help to clear his own mind as to the demands of the +Allied Unions. He found the minister in his study and in great distress +of soul. + +"I am glad to see you, Maitland," he said, giving him a hearty greeting. +"My hope is largely placed in you and you must not fail me in this +crisis. What exactly are the demands of the unions?" + +Maitland spread before him the letter which his father had received that +morning. The Reverend Murdo read it carefully over, then, with a sigh +of relief, he said: "Well, it might be worse. There should not be much +difficulty in coming to an agreement between people anxious for peace." + +After an hour spent in canvassing the subject from various points of +view, the Reverend Murdo exclaimed: "Let us go and see McNish." + +"The very thing," said Maitland. "I have been trying to get in touch +with him for the last month or so, but he avoids me." + +"Ay," replied the Reverend Murdo, "he has a reason, no doubt." + +To Maitland's joy they found McNish at home. They were received with +none-too-cordial a welcome by the son, with kindly, even eager greeting +by the mother. + +"Come awa in, Minister; come awa, Mr. Maitland. You have come to talk +about the 'trouble,' a doot. Malcolm does-na want to talk about it to +me, a bad sign. He declines to converse even, wi' me, Mr. Matheson. +Perhaps ye may succeed better wi' him." + +"Mr. Matheson can see for himself," said her son, using his most correct +English, "the impropriety of my talking with an employer in this way." + +"Nonsense, McNish," said the minister briskly. "You know me quite well +and we both know Maitland. It is just sheer nonsense to say that you +cannot talk with us. Everyone in town is talking. Every man in your +union is talking, trying to justify their present position, which, I am +bound to say, takes some justifying." + +"Why?" asked McNish hotly. + +"Because the demands are some of them quite unsound. Some other than you +had a hand in drawing up your Petition of Right, McNish, and some of the +demands are impossible." + +"How do you--" began McNish indignantly, but the minister held up his +hand and continued: + +"And some of them are both sound and reasonable." + +"What's wrang with the demands?" said McNish. + +"That's what I am about to show you," said the minister with grave +confidence. + +"Aye, minister," said the mother with a chuckle of delight. "That's you! +That's you! Haud at him! Haud at him! That's you!" + +They took seats about the blazing fire for the evening was still shrewd +enough to make the fire welcome. + +"Noo, Mr. Matheson," said the old lady, leaning toward him with keen +relish in her face, "read me the union demands. Malcolm wadna read nor +talk nor anything but glower." + +The Reverend Murdo read the six clauses. + +"Um! They're no bad negotiating pints." + +"Negotiatin' pints!" exclaimed her son indignantly. "Noo, mither, ye +maun play the game. A'm no gaun tae argue with ye to-night. Nor wi' any +of ye," he added. + +"Nonsense, Malcolm. You can't object to talk over these points with us. +You must talk them over before you're done with them. And you'll talk +them over before the whole town, too." + +"What do you mean, 'before the whole town'?" said Malcolm. + +"This is a community question. This community is interested and greatly +interested. It will demand a full exposition of the attitude of the +unions." + +"The community!" snorted McNish in contempt. + +"Aye, the community," replied the minister, "and you are not to snort at +it. That's the trouble with you labour folk. You think you are the whole +thing. You forget the third and most important party in any industrial +strife, the community. The community is interested first, in justice +being done to its citizens--to all its citizens, mind you; second, +in the preservation of the services necessary to its comfort and +well-being; third, in the continuance of the means of livelihood to wage +earners." + +"Ye missed one," said McNish grimly. "The conserving of the profits of +labour for the benefit of the capitalist." + +"I might have put that in, too," said the minister, "but it is included +in my first. But I should have added another which, to my mind, is of +the very first importance, the preservation of the spirit of brotherly +feeling and Christian decency as between man and man in this community." + +"Aye, ye might," replied Malcolm in bitter irony, "and ye might begin +with the ministers and the churches." + +"Whisht, laddie," said his mother sharply, "Mind yer manners." + +"He doesn't mean me specially, Mrs. McNish, but I will not say but what +he is right." + +"No," replied McNish, "I don't mean you exactly, Mr. Matheson." + +"Don't take it back, McNish," said the minister. "I need it. We all need +it in the churches, and we will take it, too. But come now, let us look +at these clauses. You are surely not standing for them all, or for them +all alike?" + +"Why not, then?" said McNish, angrily. + +"I'll tell you," replied the minister, "and won't take long, either." He +proceeded to read over carefully the various clauses in the demands +of the allied unions, emphasizing and explaining the meaning of each +clause. "First, as to wages. This is purely a matter for adjustment to +the cost of living and general industrial conditions. It is a matter of +arithmetic and common sense. There is no principle involved." + +"I don't agree with you," said McNish. "There is more than the cost +of living to be considered. There is the question of the standard of +living. Why should it be considered right that the standard of living +for the working man should be lower than that for the professional man +or the capitalist?" + +"There you are again, McNish," said the minister. "You are not up to +your usual to-night. You know quite well that every working man in my +parish lives better than I do, and spends more money on his living. +The standard of living has no special significance with the working man +to-day as distinguished from the professional man. We are not speaking +of the wasteful and idle rich. So I repeat that here it is a matter of +adjustment and that there is no principle involved. Now, as regard to +hours. You ask an eight-hour day and a Saturday half-holiday. That, too, +is a matter of adjustment." + +"What about production, Mr. Matheson?" said Maitland. "And overhead? +Production costs are abnormally high to-day and so are carrying charges. +I am not saying that a ten-hour day is not too long. Personally, I +believe that a man cannot keep at his best for ten hours in certain +industries--not in all." + +"Long hours do not mean big production, Maitland. Not long hours but +intensive and co-ordinated work bring up production and lower production +costs." + +"What about idle machines and overhead?" inquired Maitland. + +"A very important consideration," said the minister. "The only sound +rule governing factory industry especially is this: the longest possible +machine time, the shortest possible man time. But here again it is +a question of organisation, adjustment and co-ordination of work and +workers. We all want education here." + +"If I remember right," said McNish, and he could not keep the bitterness +out of his voice, "I have heard you say something in the pulpit at times +in regard to the value of men's immortal souls. What care can men take +of their bodies and minds, let alone their souls, if you work them ten +hours a day?" + +"There is a previous question, McNish," said the minister. "Why give +more leisure time to men who spend their leisure hours now in pool rooms +and that sort of nonsense?" + +"And whose fault is that," replied McNish sharply. "Who is responsible +that they have not learned to use their leisure more wisely? And +further, what about your young bloods and their leisure hours?" + +"Ay, A doot he has ye there, minister," said Mrs. McNish with a quiet +chuckle. + +"He has," said the minister. "The point is well taken and I acknowledge +it freely. My position is that the men need more leisure, but, more than +that, they need instruction as to how to use their leisure time wisely. +But let us get on to the third point. 'A Joint Committee of References +demanded to which all complaints shall be referred.' Now, that's fine. +That's the Whitley plan. It is quite sound and has proved thoroughly +useful in practice." + +"I quite agree," said Maitland frankly. "But certain conditions must be +observed." + +"Of course, of course," replied the minister. "Conditions must be +observed everywhere. Now, the fourth point: 'The foreman must be a +member of the union.' Thoroughly unsound. They can't ride two horses at +once. + +"I am not so sure of that," said Maitland. "For my part, I should like +to have retained my membership in the union. The more that both parties +meet for conference, the better. And the more connecting links between +them, the better. I should like to see a union where employers and +employees should have equal rights of membership." + +McNish grunted contemptuously. + +"It would be an interesting experiment," said the minister. "An +interesting experiment, McNish, and you are not to grunt like that. The +human element, of course, is the crux here. If we had the right sort +of foreman he might be trusted to be a member of the union, but a man +cannot direct and be directed at the same time. But that union of yours, +Maitland, with both parties represented in it, is a big idea. It is +worth considering. What do you think about it, McNish?" + +"What do I think of it? It is sheer idealistic nonsense." + +"It is a noble idea, laddie, and no to be sneered at, but A doot it +needs a better world for it than we hae at the present." + +"I am afraid that is true," said the minister. "But meantime a foreman +is a man who gives orders and directs work, and, generally speaking, he +must remain with a directorate in any business. There may be exceptions. +You must acknowledge that, McNish." + +"I'll acknowledge nothing of the sort," replied McNish, and entered into +a long argument which convinced no one. + +"Now we come to the next, number five: 'a voice in the management,' it +means. Come now, McNish, this is rather much. Do you want Mr. Maitland's +job here, or is there anyone in your shop who would be anything but an +embarrassment trying running the Maitland Mills, and you know quite well +that the men want nothing of the sort. It may be as Mrs. McNish said, 'a +good negotiating point,' but it has no place in practical politics here +in Blackwater. How would you like, for instance, to take orders from +Simmons?" + +The old lady chuckled delightedly. "He has you there, laddie, he has you +there!" + +But this McNish would not acknowledge, and proceeded to argue at great +length on purely theoretical grounds for joint control of industries, +till his mother quite lost patience with him. + +"Hoots, laddie, haud yer hoofs on mither earth. Would ye want yon +radical bodies to take chairge o' ony business in which ye had a baubee? +Ye're talkin' havers." + +"Now, let us look at the last," said Mr. Matheson. "It is practically a +demand for the closed shop. Now, McNish, I ask you, man to man, what is +the use of putting that in there? It is not even a negotiating point." + +At that McNish fired up. "It is no negotiating point," he declared. "I +stand for that. It is vital to the very existence of unionised labour. +Everyone knows that. Unionism cannot maintain itself in existence +without the closed shop. It is the ideal toward which all unionised +labour works." + +"Now, McNish, tell me honestly," said the minister, "do you expect or +hope for an absolutely closed shop in the factories here in Blackwater, +or in the Building Industries? Have you the faintest shadow of a hope?" + +"We may not get it," said McNish, "but that is no reason why we should +not fight for it. Men have died fighting for the impossible because they +knew it was right, and, by dying for it, they have brought it to pass." + +"Far be it from me, McNish, to deny that. But I am asking you now, again +as man to man, do you know of any industry, even in the Old Land, where +the closed shop absolutely prevails, and do you think that conditions in +Blackwater give you the faintest hope of a closed shop here?" + +"Yes," shouted McNish, springing to his feet, "there is hope. There is +hope even in Blackwater." + +"Tut, tut, laddie," said his mother. "Dinna deeve us. What has come ower +ye that ye canna talk like a reasonable man? Noo, Mr. Matheson, ye've +had enough of the labour matters. A'll mak ye a cup of tea." + +"Thank you, Mrs. McNish," said the minister gravely, "but I cannot +linger. I have still work to do to-night." He rose from his chair and +found his coat. His manner was gravely sad and gave evidence of his +disappointment with the evening's conversation. + +"Dinna fash yerself, minister," said the old lady, helping him on with +his coat. "The 'trouble' will blow ower, a doot. It'll a' come oot +richt." + +"Mrs. McNish, what I have seen and heard in this house to-night," said +the minister solemnly, "gives me little hope that it will all come +right, but rather gives me grave concern." Then, looking straight into +the eyes of her son, he added: "I came here expecting to find help and +guidance in discovering a reasonable way out of a very grave and serious +difficulty. I confess I have been disappointed." + +"Mr. Matheson," said McNish, "I am always glad to discuss any matter +with you in a reasonable and kindly way." + +"I am afraid my presence has not helped very much, Mrs. McNish," said +Maitland. "I am sorry I came tonight. I did come earnestly desiring and +hoping that we might find a way out. It seems I have made a mistake." + +"You came at my request, Maitland," said the minister. "If a mistake has +been made, it is mine. Good-night, Mrs. McNish. Good-night, Malcolm. +I don't pretend to know or understand what is in your heart, but I am +going to say to you as your minister that where there is evil passion +there can be no clear thinking. And further, let me say that upon you +will devolve a heavy responsibility for the guidance you give these +men. Good-night again. Remember that One whom we both acknowledge as +the source of all true light said: 'If the light that is in thee be +darkness, how great is that darkness.'" He shook hands first with +the mother, then with the son, who turned away from him with a curt +"Good-night" and nodded to Maitland. + +For a moment or two neither of the men spoke. They were both grievously +disappointed in the interview. + +"I never saw him like that," said the Reverend Murdo at length. "What +can be the matter with him? With him passion is darkening counsel." + +"Well," said Maitland, "I have found out one thing that I wanted." + +"And what is that?" + +"These men clearly do not want what they are asking for. They want +chiefly war--at least, McNish does." + +"I am deeply disappointed in McNish," replied the minister, "and I +confess I am anxious. McNish, above all others, is the brains of this +movement, and in that mood there is little hope of reason from him. I +fear it will be a sore fight, with a doubtful issue." + +"Oh, I don't despair," said Maitland cheerily. "I have an idea he has a +quarrel with me. He wants to get me. But we can beat him." + +The Reverend Murdo waited for a further explanation, but was too much +of a gentleman to press the point and kept silent till they reached his +door. + +"You will not desert us, Mr. Matheson," said Maitland earnestly. + +"Desert you? It is my job. These people are my people. We cannot desert +them." + +"Right you are," said Maitland. "Cheerio. We'll carry on. He shook hands +warmly with the minister and went off, whistling cheerily. + +"That is a man to follow," said the minister to himself. "He goes +whistling into a fight." + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE STRIKE + + +The negotiations between the men and their employers, in which the chief +exponents of the principles of justice and fair play were Mr. McGinnis +on the one hand and Brother Simmons on the other, broke down at the +second meeting, which ended in a vigorous personal encounter between +these gentlemen, without, however, serious injury to either. + +The following day a general strike was declared. All work ceased in the +factories affected and building operations which had begun in a moderate +way were arrested. Grant Maitland was heartily disgusted with the course +of events and more especially with the humiliating and disgraceful +manner in which the negotiations had been conducted. + +"You were quite right, Jack," he said to his son the morning after which +the strike had been declared. "That man McGinnis is quite impossible." + +"It really made little difference, Dad. The negotiations were hopeless +from the beginning. There was no chance of peace." + +"Why not?" + +"Because McNish wants war." He proceeded to give an account of the +evening spent at the McNish home. "When McNish wants peace, we can +easily end the strike," concluded Jack. + +"There is something in what you say, doubtless," replied his father, +"but meantime there is a lot to be done." + +"What do you mean exactly, Father?" + +"We have a lot of stock made up on hand. The market is dead at present +prices. There is no hope of sales. The market will fall lower still. I +propose that we take our loss and unload at the best rate we can get." + +"That is your job, Dad. I know little about that, but I believe you are +right. I have been doing a lot of reading in trade journals and that +sort of thing, and I believe that a big slump is surely coming. But +there is a lot to do in my department at the Mills, also. I am not +satisfied with the inside arrangement of our planing mill. There is +a lot of time wasted and there is an almost complete lack of +co-ordination. Here is a plan I want to show you. The idea is to improve +the routing of our work." + +Maitland glanced at the plan perfunctorily, more to please his son than +anything else. But, after a second glance, he became deeply interested +and began to ask questions. After half an hour's study he said: + +"Jack, this is really a vast improvement. Strange, I never thought of a +great many of these things." + +"I have been reading up a bit, and when I was on my trip two weeks ago I +looked in upon two or three of the plants of our competitors. I believe +this will be more up-to-date and will save time and labour." + +"I am sure it will, boy. And we will put this in hand at once. But what +about men?" + +"Oh, we can pick up labourers, and that is all we want at the present +time." + +"All right, go at it. I will give you a hand myself." + +"Then there is something else, Dad. We ought to have a good athletic +field for our men." + +His father gasped at him. + +"An athletic field for those ungrateful rascals?" + +"Father, they are not rascals," said his son. "They are just the same +to-day as they ever were. A decent lot of chaps who don't think the same +as we do on a number of points. But they are coming back again some time +and we may as well be ready for them. Look at this." + +And before Grant Maitland could recover his speech he found himself +looking at a beautifully-drawn plan of athletic grounds set out with +walks, shade trees and shrubbery, and with a plain but commodious +club-house appearing in the background. + +"And where do you get this land, and what does it cost you?" + +"The land," replied Jack, "is your land about the old mill. It will cost +us nothing, I hope. The old mill site contains two and one-half acres. +It can be put in shape with little work. The mill itself is an eyesore; +ought to have been removed long ago. Dad, you ought to have seen the +plant at Violetta, that is in Ohio, you know. It is a joy to behold. But +never mind about that. The lumber in the old mill can be used up in +the club-house. The timbers are wonderful; nothing like them to-day +anywhere. The outside finishing will be done with slabs from our own +yard. They will make a very pretty job." + +"And where do you get the men for this work?" inquired his father. + +"Why, our men. It is for themselves and they are our men." + +"Voluntary work, I suppose?" inquired Maitland. + +"Voluntary work?" said Jack. "We couldn't have men work for us for +nothing." + +"And you mean to pay them for the construction of their own athletic +grounds and club-house?" + +"But why not?" inquired Jack in amazement. + +His father threw back his head and began to laugh. + +"This is really the most extraordinary thing I have ever heard of in all +my life," he said, after he had done with his laugh. "Your men strike; +you prepare for them a beautiful club-house and athletic grounds as a +reward for their loyalty. You pay them wages so that they may be able +to sustain the strike indefinitely." Again he threw back his head and +continued laughing as Jack had never in his life heard him laugh. + +"Why not, Dad?" said Jack, gazing at his father in half-shamed +perplexity. "The idea of athletic grounds and club-house is according +to the best modern thought. These are our own men. You are not like +McGinnis. You are not enraged at them. You don't hate them. They are +going to work for us again in some days or weeks. They are idle and +therefore available for work. You can get better work from them than +from other men. And you wouldn't take their work from them for nothing." + +Again his father began to laugh. "Your argument, Jack," he said when he +was able to control his speech, "is absolutely unanswerable. There is +no answer possible on any count; but did ever man hear of such a scheme? +Did you?" + +"I confess not. But, Dad, you are a good sport. We are out to win this +fight, but we don't want to injure anybody. We are going to beat them, +but we don't want to abuse them unnecessarily. Besides, I think it is +good business. And then, you see, I really like these chaps." + +"Simmons, for instance?" said his father with an ironical smile. + +"Well, Simmons, just as much as you can like an ass." + +"And McNish?" inquired Maitland. + +"McNish," echoed Jack, a cloud falling upon his face. "I confess I don't +understand McNish. At least," he added, "I am sorry for McNish. But what +do you say to my scheme, Dad?" + +"Well, boy," said his father, beginning to laugh again, "give me a night +to think it over." + +Then Jack departed, not quite sure of himself or of the plan which +appeared to give his father such intense amusement. "At any rate," he +said to himself as he walked out of the office, "if it is a joke it is +a good one. And it has given the governor a better laugh than he has had +for five years." + +The Mayor of Blackwater was peculiarly sensitive to public opinion and +acutely susceptible of public approval. In addition, he was possessed +of a somewhat exalted idea of his powers as the administrator in public +affairs, and more particularly as a mediator in times of strife. He had +been singularly happy in his mediation between the conflicting elements +in his Council, and more than once he had been successful in the +composing of disputes in arbitration cases submitted to his judgment. +Moreover, he had an eye to a second term in the mayor's chair, which +gubernatorial and majestical office gave full scope to the ruling +ambition of his life, which was, in his own words, "to guard the +interests and promote the well-being of my people." + +The industrial strike appeared to furnish him with an opportunity to +gratify this ambition. He resolved to put an end to this unnecessary and +wasteful struggle, and to that end he summoned to a public meeting his +fellow citizens of all classes, at which he invited each party in the +industrial strife to make a statement of their case, in the hope that a +fair and reasonable settlement might be effected. + +The employers were more than dubious of the issue, having but a small +idea of the mayor's power of control and less of his common-sense. +Brother Simmons, however, foreseeing a magnificent field for the display +of his forensic ability, a thing greatly desired by labour leaders +of his kidney, joyfully welcomed the proposal. McNish gave hesitating +assent, but, relying upon his experience in the management of public +assemblies and confident of his ability to shape events to his own +advantage, he finally agreed to accept the invitation. + +The public meeting packed the City Hall, with representatives of both +parties in the controversy in about equal numbers and with a great body +of citizens more or less keenly interested in the issue of the meeting +and expectant of a certain amount of "fun." The Mayor's opening speech +was thoroughly characteristic. He was impressed with the responsibility +that was his for the well-being of his people. Like all right-thinking +citizens of this fair town of Blackwater, he deeply regretted this +industrial strife. It interfered with business. It meant loss of +money to the strikers. It was an occasion of much inconvenience to the +citizens and it engendered bitterness of feeling that might take months, +even years, to remove. He stood there as the friend of the working man. +He was a working man himself and was proud of it. He believed that on +the whole they were good fellows. He was a friend also of the employers +of labour. What could we do without them? How could our great industries +prosper without their money and their brains? The one thing necessary +for success was co-operation. That was the great word in modern +democracy. In glowing periods he illustrated this point from their +experiences in the war. All they wanted to do was to sit down together, +and, man to man, talk their difficulties over. He would be glad to +assist them, and he had no doubt as to the result. He warned the working +man that hard times were coming. The spectre of unemployment was already +parading their streets. Unemployment meant disorder, rioting. This, +he assured them, would not be permitted. At all costs order would be +maintained. He had no wish to threaten, but he promised them that the +peace would be preserved at all costs. He suggested that the strikers +should get back at once to work and the negotiations should proceed in +the meantime. + +At this point Brother Simmons rose. + +"The mayor (h)urges the workers to get back to work," he said. "Does 'e +mean at (h)increased pay, or not? 'E says as 'ow this strike interferes +with business. 'E doesn't tell us what business. But I can tell 'im +it (h)interferes with the business of robbery of the workin' man. 'E +deplores the loss of money to the strikers. Let me tell 'im that the +workin' men are prepared to suffer that loss. True, they 'ave no big +bank accounts to carry 'em on, but there are things that they love more +than money--liberty and justice and the rights of the people. What are +we strikin' for? Nothin' but what is our own. The workin' man makes +(h)everything that is made. What percentage of the returns does 'e get +in wages? They won't tell us that. Last year these factories were busy +in the makin' o' munitions. Mr. McGinnis 'ere was makin' shells. I'd +like to (h)ask, Mr. Mayor, what profit Mr. McGinnis made out of these +shells." + +Mr. McGinnis sprang to his feet, "I want to tell you," he said in +a voice choking with rage, "that it is none of your high-explosive +business." + +"'E says as it is none o' my business," cried Brother Simmons, joyously +taking Mr. McGinnis on. "Let me (h)ask 'im who paid for these shells? I +did, you did, all of us did. Not my business? Then 'ose business is +it? (H)If 'e was paid a fair price for 'is shells, (h)all right, I say +nothin' against it. If 'e was paid more than a fair price, then 'e is +a robber, worse, 'e is a blood robber, because the price was paid in +blood." + +At once a dozen men were on their feet. Cries of "Order! Order!" and +"Put him out!" arose on every hand. The mayor rose from his chair +and, in an impressive voice, said: "We must have order. Sit down, +Mr. Simmons." Simmons sat down promptly. Union men are thoroughly +disciplined in points of order. "We must have order," continued the +mayor. "I will not permit any citizen to be insulted. We all did our +bit in this town of Blackwater. Some of us went to fight, and some +that could not go to fight 'kept the home fires burning'." A shout of +derisive laughter from the working men greeted this phrase. The mayor +was deeply hurt. "I want to say that those who could not go to the war +did their bit at home. Let the meeting proceed, but let us observe the +courtesies that are proper in debate." + +Again Simmons took the floor. "As I was sayin', Mr. Mayor--" + +Cries of "Order! Order! Sit down!" + +"--Mr. Mayor, I believe I 'ave the floor?" + +"Yes, you have. Go on. But you must not insult." + +"(H)Insult? Did I (h)insult anybody? I don't know what Mr. McGinnis made +from 'is shells. I only said that if--you (h)understand--if 'e made more +than e ought to, 'e is a robber. And since the price of our freedom was +paid in blood, if 'e made more than was fair, 'e's a blood robber." + +Again the cries arose. "Throw him out!" Once more the mayor rose. "You +must not make insinuations, sir," he cried angrily. "You must not make +insinuations against respectable citizens." + +"(H)Insinooations," cried Simmons. "No, sir, I never make no +(h)insinooations. If I knew that (h)any man 'ere 'ad made (h)unfair +profits I wouldn't make no (h)insinooations. I would charge 'im right +'ere with blood robbery. And let me say," shouted Simmons, taking a step +into the aisle, "that the time may come when the working men of this +country will make these charges, and will (h)ask the people who kept the +''ome fires burning'--" + +Yells of derisive laughter. + +"--what profits came to them from these same 'ome fires. The people +will (h)ask for an (h)explanation of these bank accounts, of these new +factories, of these big stores, of these (h)autermobiles. The people +that went to the war and were (h)unfortoonate enough to return came back +to poverty, while many of these 'ere 'ome fire burners came (h)out with +fortunes." At this point brother Simmons cast a fierce and baleful eye +upon a group of the employers who sat silent and wrathful before him. +"And now, what I say," continued Brother Simmons-- + +At this point a quiet voice was heard. + +"Mr. Mayor, I rise to a point of order." + +Immediately Simmons took his seat. + +"Mr. Farrington," said the mayor, recognising one of the largest +building contractors in the town. + +"Mr. Mayor, I should like to ask what are we discussing this afternoon? +Are we discussing the war records of the citizens of Blackwater? If so, +that is not what I came for. It may be interesting to find out what each +man did in the war. I find that those who did most say least. I don't +know what Mr. Simmons did in the war. I suppose he was there." + +With one spring Simmons was on his feet and in the aisle. He ripped +off coat and vest, pulled his shirt over his head and revealed a back +covered with the network of ghastly scars. "The gentleman (h)asks," he +panted, "what I done in the war. I don't know. I cannot say what I +done in the war, but that is what the war done to me." The effect was +positively overwhelming. + +A deadly silence gripped the audience for a single moment. Then upon +every hand rose fierce yells, oaths and strange cries. Above the uproar +came Farrington's booming voice. Leaving his seat, which was near the +back of the hall, he came forward, crying out: + +"Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! I demand attention!" As he reached Simmons's +side, he paused and, facing about, he looked upon the array of faces +pale and tense with passion. "I want to apologise to this gentleman," +he said in a voice breaking with emotion. "I should not have said what +I did. The man who bears these scars is a man I am proud to know." He +turned swiftly toward Simmons with outstretched hand. "I am proud to +know you, sir. I could not go to the war. I was past age. I sent my two +boys. They are over there still." As the two men shook hands, for +once in his life Simmons was speechless. His face was suffused with +uncontrollable feeling. On every side were seen men, strong men, with +tears streaming down their faces. A nobler spirit seemed to fall upon +them all. In the silence that followed, Mr. Maitland rose. + +"Mr. Mayor," he said quietly, "we have all suffered together in this +war. I, for one, want to do the fair thing by our men. Let us meet them +and talk things over before any fair-minded committee. Surely we who +have suffered together in war can work together in peace." It was a +noble appeal, and met with a noble response. On all sides and from all +parties a storm of cheers broke forth. + +Then the Reverend Murdo Matheson rose to his feet. "Mr. Mayor," he said, +"I confess I was not hopeful of the result of this meeting. But I am +sure we all recognise the presence and influence of a mightier Spirit +than ours. From the outset I have been convinced that the problems in +the industrial situation here are not beyond solution, and should yield +to fair and reasonable consideration. I venture to move that a committee +of five be appointed, two to be chosen by each of the parties in this +dispute, who would in turn choose a chairman; that this committee meet +with representatives of both parties; and that their decision in all +cases be final." + +Mr. Farrington rose and heartily seconded the motion. + +At this point Jack, who was sitting near the platform and whose eyes +were wandering over the audience, was startled by the look on the face +of McNish. It was a look in which mingled fear, anxiety, wrath. He +seemed to be on the point of starting to his feet when McGinnis broke +in: + +"Do I understand that the decision of this committee is to be final on +every point?" + +"Certainly," said the Reverend Murdo. "There is no other way by which we +can arrive at a decision." + +"Do you mean," cried McGinnis, "that if this committee says I must hire +only union men in my foundry that I must do so?" + +"I would reply," said the Reverend Murdo, "that we must trust this +committee to act in a fair and reasonable way." + +But Mr. McGinnis was not satisfied with this answer. + +"I want to know," he cried in growing anger, "I want to know exactly +where we are and I want a definite answer. Will this committee have the +right to force me to employ only union men?" + +"Mr. Mayor," replied the Reverend Murdo, "Mr. McGinnis is right in +asking for definiteness. My answer is that we must trust this committee +to do what is wise and reasonable, and we must accept their decision as +final in every case." + +Thereupon McGinnis rose and expressed an earnest desire for a tragic and +unhappy and age-long fate if he would consent to any such proposition. +With terrible swiftness the spirit of the meeting was changed. The +moment of lofty emotion and noble impulse passed. The opportunity for +reason and fair play to determine the issue was lost, and the old evil +spirit of suspicion and hate fell upon the audience like a pall. + +At this point McNish, from whose face all anxiety had disappeared, rose +and said: + +"For my part, and speaking for the working men of this town, I am ready +to accept the proposal that has been made. We have no fear for the +justice of our demands like some men here present. We know we have the +right on our side and we are willing to accept the judgment of such a +committee as has been proposed." The words were fair enough, but +the tone of sneering contempt was so irritating that immediately the +position assumed by McGinnis received support from his fellow employers +on every hand. Once more uproar ensued. The mayor, in a state of angry +excitement, sought in vain to restore order. + +After some minutes of heated altercation with Mr. McGinnis, whom he +threatened with expulsion from the meeting, the mayor finally left +the chair and the meeting broke up in disorder which threatened to +degenerate into a series of personal encounters. + +Again McNish took command. Leaping upon a chair, with a loud voice which +caught at once the ears of his following, he announced that a meeting +was to be held immediately in the union rooms, and he added: "When these +men here want us again, they know where to find us." He was answered +with a roar of approval, and with an ugly smile on his face he led his +people in triumph from the hall, leaving behind the mayor, still engaged +in a heated argument with McGinnis and certain employers who sympathised +with the Irishman's opinions. Thus the strike passed into another and +more dangerous phase. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +GATHERING CLOUDS + + +On the Rectory lawn a hard-fought game had just finished, bringing to +a conclusion a lengthened series of contests which had extended over a +whole week, in which series Patricia, with her devoted cavalier, Victor +Forsythe, had been forced to accept defeat at the hands of her sister +and her partner, Hugh Maynard. + +"Partner, you were wonderful in that last set!" said Patricia, as they +moved off together to offer their congratulations to their conquerors. + +"Patsy," said her partner, in a low voice, "as ever, you are superb in +defeat as in victory. Superb, unapproachable, wonderful." + +"Anything else, Vic?" inquired Patsy, grinning at the youth. + +"Oh, a whole lot more, Pat, if you only give me a chance to tell you." + +"No time just now," cried Patricia as she reached the others. "Well, you +two deserved to win. You played ripping tennis," she continued, offering +Hugh her hand. + +"So did you, Pat. You were at the very top of your form." + +"Well, some other day," said Vic. "I think we are improving a bit, +partner. A little more close harmony will do the trick." + +"Come away, children," said Mrs. Templeton, calling to them from the +shade at the side of the courts. "You must be very tired and done out. +Why, how hot you look, Patricia." + +"Stunning, I should say!" murmured Vic, looking at her with adoring +eyes. + +And a truly wonderful picture the girl made, in her dainty muslin +frock, her bold red hair tossed in a splendid aureole about her face. +Care-free, heart-free, as she flashed from her hearty blue eyes her +saucy and bewitching glances at her partner's face, her mother sighed, +thinking that her baby girl was swiftly slipping away from her and +forever into that wider world of womanhood where others would claim her. + +In lovely contrast stood her sister, dressed in flannel skirt and +sweater of old gold silk, fair, tall, beautiful, a delicate grace in +every line of her body and a proud, yet gentle strength in every +feature of her face. There dwelt in her deep blue eyes a look of hidden, +mysterious power which had wrought in her mother a certain fear of her +eldest daughter. The mother never quite knew what to expect from Adrien. +Yet, for all, she carried an assured confidence that whatever she might +do, her daughter never would shame the high traditions of her race. + +The long shadows from the tall elms lay across the velvet sward of the +Rectory lawn. The heat of the early June day had given place to the cool +air of the evening. The exquisitely delicate colouring from the setting +sun flooded the sky overhead and deepened into blues and purples behind +the elms and the church spire. A deep peace had fallen upon the world +except that from the topmost bough of the tallest elm tree a robin sang, +pouring his very heart out in a song of joyous optimism. + +The little group, disposed upon the lawn according to their various +desires, stood and sat looking up at the brave little songster. + +"How happy he is," said Mrs. Templeton, a wistful cadence of sadness in +her voice. + +"I wonder if he is, Mamma. Perhaps he is only pretending," said Adrien. + +"Cheerio, old chap!" cried Vic, waving his hand at the gallant little +songster. "You are a regular grouch killer." + +"He has no troubles," said Mrs. Templeton, with a sigh. + +"I wonder, Mamma. Or is he just bluffing us all?" + +"He has no strike, at any rate, to worry him," said Patricia, "and, +by the way, what is the news to-day? Does anybody know? Is there any +change?" + +"Oh," cried Vic, "there has been a most exciting morning at the E. D. +C.--the Employers' Defence Committee," he explained, in answer to Mrs. +Templeton's mystified look. + +"Do go on!" cried Patricia impatiently. "Was there a fight? They are +always having one." + +"Of course there was the usual morning scrap, but with a variation +to-day of a deputation from the brethren of the Ministerial Association. +But, of course, Mrs. Templeton, the Doctor must have told you already." + +"I hardly ever see him these days. He is dreadfully occupied. There is +so much trouble, sickness and that sort of thing. Oh, it is all terribly +sad. The Doctor is almost worn out." + +"He made a wonderful speech to the magnates, my governor says." + +"Oh, go on, Vic!" cried Patricia. "Why do you stop? You are so +deliberate." + +"I was thinking of that speech," replied Victor more quietly than was +his wont. "It came at a most dramatic moment. The governor was quite +worked up over it and gave me a full account. They had just got all +their reports in--'all safe along the Potomac'--no break in the front +line--Building Industries slightly shaky due to working men's groups +taking on small contracts, which excited great wrath and which McGinnis +declared must be stopped." + +"How can they stop them? This is a free country," said Adrien. + +"Aha!" cried Victor. "Little you know of the resources of the E. D. C. +It is proposed that the supply dealers should refuse supplies to all +builders until the strike is settled. No more lumber, lime, cement, +etc., etc." + +"Boycott, eh? I call that pretty rotten," said Adrien. + +"The majority were pretty much for it, however, except Maitland and my +governor, they protesting that this boycott was hardly playing the game. +Your friend Captain Jack came in for his licks," continued Vic, turning +to Patricia. "It appears he has been employing strikers in some work +or other, which some of the brethren considered to be not according to +Hoyle." + +"Nonsense!" cried Patricia indignantly. "Jack took me yesterday to see +the work. He showed me all the plans and we went over the grounds. It is +a most splendid thing, Mamma! He is laying out athletic grounds for his +men, with a club house and all that sort of thing. They are going to be +perfectly splendid! Do you mean to say they were blaming him for this? +Who was?" And Patricia stood ready for battle. + +"Kamerad!" cried Vic, holding up his hands. "Not me! However, Jack was +exonerated, for it appears he sent them a letter two weeks ago, +telling them what he proposed to do, to which letter they had raised no +objection." + +"Well, what then?" inquired Patricia. + +"Oh, the usual thing. They all resolved to stand pat--no surrender--or, +rather, let the whole line advance--you know the stuff--when into +this warlike atmosphere walked the deputation from the Ministerial +Association. It gave the E. D. C. a slight shock, so my Dad says. The +Doctor fired the first gun. My governor says that it was like a breath +from another world. His face was enough. Everybody felt mean for just +being what they were. I know exactly what that is, for I know the way he +makes me feel when I look at him in church. You know what I mean, Pat." + +"I know," said Patricia softly, letting her hand fall upon her mother's +shoulder. + +"Well," continued Vic, "the Doctor just talked to them as if they were +his children. They hadn't been very good and he was sorry for them. +He would like to help them to be better. The other side, too, had been +doing wrong, and they were having a bad time. They were suffering, and +as he went on to tell them in that wonderful voice of his about the +women and children, every man in the room, so the governor said, was +wondering how much he had in his pocket. And then he told them of how +wicked it was for men whose sons had died together in France to be +fighting each other here in Canada. Well, you know my governor. As he +told me this tale, we just both of us bowed our heads and wept. It's the +truth, so help me, just as you are doing now, Pat." + +"I am not," cried Patricia indignantly. "And I don't care if I am. He is +a dear and those men are just--" + +"Hush, dear," said Mrs. Templeton gently. "And did they agree to +anything?" + +"Alas, not they, for at that moment some old Johnny began asking +questions and then that old fire-eater, McGinnis, horned in again. No +Arbitration Committee for him--no one could come into his foundry and +tell him how to run his business--same old stuff, you know. Well, then, +the Methodist Johnny took a hand. What's his name? Haynes, isn't it?" + +"Yes, Haynes," said Hugh Maynard. + +"Well, Brother Haynes took up the tale. He is an eloquent chap, all +right. He took the line 'As you are strong, be pitiful,' but the +psychological moment had gone and the line still held strong. Campbell +of the woollen mills invited him up to view his $25,000.00 stock 'all +dressed up and nowhere to go.' 'Tell me how I can pay increased wages +with this stock on my hands.' And echo answered 'How?' Haynes could not. +Then my old chief took a hand--the Reverend Murdo Matheson. He is a good +old scout, a Padre, you know--regular fire-eater--a rasping voice and +grey matter oozing from his pores. My governor says he abandoned the +frontal attack and took them on the flank. Opened up with a dose of +economics that made them sit up. And when he got through on this line, +he made every man feel that it was entirely due to the courtesy and +forbearance of the union that he was allowed to carry on business at +all. He spiked Brother McGinnis's guns by informing him that if he +was harbouring the idea that he owned a foundry all on his own, he was +labouring under a hallucination. All he owned was a heap of brick and +mortar and some iron and steel junk arranged in some peculiar way. In +fact, there was no foundry there till the workmen came in and started +the wheels going round. Old McGinnis sat gasping like a chicken with +the pip. Then the Padre turned on the 'Liberty of the subject' stop as +follows: 'Mr. McGinnis insists upon liberty to run his foundry as he +likes; insists upon perfect freedom of action. There is no such thing +as perfect freedom of action in modern civilisation. For instance, Mr. +McGinnis rushing to catch a train, hurls his Hudson Six gaily down Main +Street thirty miles an hour, on the left-hand side of the street. A +speed cop sidles up, whispers a sweet something in his ear, hails him +ignominiously into court and invites him to contribute to the support +of the democracy fifty little iron men as an evidence of his devotion +to the sacred principle of personal liberty. In short, there is no such +thing as personal liberty in this burg, unless it is too late for the +cop to see.' The governor says McGinnis's face afforded a perfect study +in emotions. I should have liked to have seen it. The Padre never took +his foot off the accelerator. He took them all for an excursion +along the 'Responsibility' line: personal responsibility, mutual +responsibility, community responsibility and every responsibility known +to the modern mind. And then when he had them eating out of his hand, +he offered them two alternatives: an Arbitration Committee as formerly +proposed, or a Conciliation Board under the Lemieux Act. My governor +says it was a great speech. He had 'em all jumping through the hoops." + +"What DO you mean, Vic?" lamented Mrs. Templeton. "I have only the very +vaguest idea of what you have been saying all this time." + +"So sorry, Mrs. Templeton. What I mean is the Padre delivered a most +effective speech." + +"And did they settle anything?" inquired Patricia. + +"I regret to say, Patricia, that your friend Rupert--" + +"My friend, indeed!" cried Patricia. + +"Who comforts you with bonbons," continued Vic, ignoring her words, +"and stays you with joy rides, interposed at this second psychological +crisis. He very cleverly moves a vote of thanks, bows out the +deputation, thanking them for their touching addresses, and promising +consideration. Thereupon, as the door closed, he proceeded to sound +the alarm once more, collected the scattered forces, flung the gage +of battle in the teeth of the enemy, dared them to do their worst, and +there you are." + +"And nothing done?" cried Adrien. "What a shame." + +"What I cannot understand is," said Hugh, "why the unions do not invoke +the Lemieux Act?" + +"Aha!" said Vic. "Why? The same question rose to my lips." + +"The Lemieux Act?" inquired Mrs. Templeton. + +"Yes. You know, Mrs. Templeton, either party in dispute can ask for a +Board of Conciliation, not Arbitration, you understand. This Board has +power to investigate--bring out all the facts--and failing to effect +conciliation, makes public its decision in the case, leaving both +parties at the bar of public opinion." + +"But I cannot understand why the unions do not ask for this Conciliation +Board." + +"I fear, Hugh," said Victor in an awed and solemn voice, "that there is +an Ethiopian in the coal bin." + +"What DOES he mean, Patricia?" + +"He means that there is something very dark and mysterious, Mamma." + +"So there is," said Hugh. "The unions will take an Arbitration +Committee, which the employers decline to give, but they will not ask +for a Conciliation Board." + +"My governor says it's a bluff," said Vic. "The unions know quite +well that McGinnis et hoc genus omne will have nothing to do with an +Arbitration Committee. Hence they are all for an Arbitration Committee. +On the other hand, neither the unions nor McGinnis are greatly in love +with the prying methods of the Conciliation Board, and hence reject the +aid of the Lemieux Act." + +"But why should they all be dominated by a man like McGinnis?" demanded +Adrien. "Why doesn't some employer demand a Conciliation Board? He can +get it, you know." + +"They naturally stand together," said Hugh. + +"But they won't long. Maitland declares that he will take either board, +and that if the committee cannot agree which to choose, he will withdraw +and make terms on his own. He furthermore gave them warning that if any +strike-breakers were employed, of which he had heard rumours, he would +have nothing to do with the bunch." + +"Strike-breakers?" said Adrien. "That would certainly mean serious +trouble." + +"Indeed, you are jolly well right," said Vic. "We will all be in it +then. Civic guard! Special police! 'Shun! Fix bayonets! Prepare for +cavalry! Eh?" + +"Oh, how terrible it all is," said Mrs. Templeton. + +"Nonsense, Vic," said Hugh. "Don't listen to him, Mrs. Templeton. We +will have nothing of that sort." + +"Well, it is all very sad," said Mrs. Templeton. "But here is Rupert. He +will give us the latest." + +But Rupert appeared unwilling to talk about the meeting of the morning. +He was quite certain, however, that the strike was about to break. He +had inside information that the resources of the unions were almost +exhausted. The employers were tightening up all along the line, credits +were being refused at the stores, the unions were torn with dissension, +the end was at hand. + +"It would be a great mercy if it would end soon," said Mrs. Templeton. +"It is a sad pity that these poor people are so misguided." + +"It is a cruel shame, Mrs. Templeton," said Rupert indignantly. "I have +it from scores of them that they didn't want to strike at all. They were +getting good wages--the wage scale has gone up steadily during the war +to the present extravagant height." + +"The cost of living has gone up much more rapidly, I believe," said +Adrien. "The men are working ten hours a day, the conditions under which +they labour are in some cases deplorable; that McGinnis foundry is a +ghastly place, terribly unhealthy; the girls in many of the factories +are paid wages so shamefully low that they can hardly maintain +themselves in decency, and they are continually being told that they are +about to be dismissed. The wrong's not all on one side, by any means. To +my mind, men like McGinnis who are unwilling to negotiate are a menace +to the country." + +"You are quite right, Adrien," replied Hugh. "I consider him a most +dangerous man. That sort of pig-headed, bull-headed employer of labour +does more to promote strife than a dozen 'walking delegates.' I am not +terribly strong for the unions, but the point of vantage is always with +the employers. And they have a lot to learn. Oh, you may look at me, +Adrien! I am no bolshevist, but I see a lot of these men in our office." + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE STORM + + +Slowly the evening was deepening into night, but still the glow from the +setting sun lingered in the western sky. The brave little songster had +gone from the top of the elm tree, but from the shrubbery behind the +church a whippoorwill was beginning to tune his pipe. + +"Oh, listen to the darling!" cried Patricia. "I haven't heard one for a +long, long time." + +"There used to be a great many in the shrubbery here, and in the old +days the woods nearby were full of them in the evenings," said Mrs. +Templeton. + +As they sat listening for the whippoorwill's voice, they became aware of +other sounds floating up to their ears from the town. The hum of passing +motors, the high, shrill laughter of children playing in the streets, +the clang of the locomotive bell from the railroad station, all softened +by distance. But as they listened there came another sound like nothing +they had ever heard in that place before. A strange, confused rumbling, +with cries jutting out through the dull, rolling noise. A little later +came the faint clash of rhythmic, tumultuous cheering. Patricia's quick +ears were the first to catch the sound. + +"Hush!" she cried. "What is that noise?" + +Again came the rumbling sound, punctuated with quick volleys of +cheering. The men glanced at each other. They knew well that sound, a +sound they had often heard during the stirring days of the war, in the +streets of the great cities across the seas, and in other places, too, +where men were wont to crowd. As they listened in tense silence, there +came the throbbing of a drum. + +"My dear," said Mrs. Templeton faintly to her eldest daughter, "I think +I shall go in." + +At once Hugh offered her his arm, while Adrien took the other, and +together they led her slowly into the house. + +Meanwhile the others tumbled into Rupert's car and motored down to the +gate, and there waited the approach of what seemed to be a procession of +some sort or other. + +At the gate Dr. Templeton, returning from his pastor visitations, found +them standing. + +"Come here, Papa!" cried Patricia. "Let us wait here. There is something +coming up the street." + +"But what is it?" asked Dr. Templeton. "Does anybody know?" + +"I guess it is a strikers' parade, sir. I heard that they were to +organise a march-out to-night. It is rather a ridiculous thing." + +Through the deepening twilight they could see at the head of the column +and immediately before the band, a double platoon of young girls dressed +in white, under the command of an officer distinguished from the others +by her red sash, all marching with a beautiful precision to the tap +of the drum. As the head of the column drew opposite, Patricia touched +Vic's arm. + +"Vic!" she cried. "Look! Look at that girl! It is Annette!" + +"My aunt! So it is!" cried Vic. "Jove! What a picture she makes! What a +swing!" + +Behind that swinging company of girls came the band, marching to the +tapping of the drum only. Then after a space came a figure, pathetic, +arresting, moving--a woman, obviously a workman's wife, of middle age, +grey, workworn, and carrying a babe of a few months in her arms, marched +alone. Plainly dressed, her grey head bare, she walked proudly erect +but with evident signs of weariness. The appearance of that lone, weary, +grey-haired woman and her helpless babe struck hard upon the heart with +its poignant appeal, choking men's throats and bringing hot tears to +women's eyes. Following that lonely figure came one who was apparently +the officer in command of the column. As he came opposite the gate, +his eye fell upon the group there. Swiftly he turned about, and, like a +trumpet, his voice rang out in command: + +"Ba-t-t-a-a-lion, halt!! R-r-r-i-g-h-t turn!" + +Immediately the whole column came to a halt and faced toward the side of +the street where stood the group within the shadow of the gate. + +"I am going to get Annette," said Patricia to her father, and she darted +off, returning almost immediately with the leader of the girls' squad. + +"What does this mean, Annette? What are you doing? It is a great lark!" +cried Patricia. + +"Well, it is not exactly a lark," answered Annette, with a slight laugh. +"You see, we girls want to help out the boys. We are strikers, too, you +know. They asked us to take part in the parade, and here we are. But +it's got away past being a lark," she continued, her voice and face +growing stern. "There is a lot of suffering among the workers. I know +all my money has gone," she added, after a moment, with a gay laugh. + +Meantime, the officer commanding the column had spoken a few words to +the leader of the band, and in response, to the surprise and dismay of +the venerable Doctor, the band struck up that rollicking air associated +with the time-honoured chorus, "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow." Then all +stood silent, gazing at the Doctor, who, much embarrassed, could only +gaze back in return. + +"Papa, dear," said Adrien, who with Hugh Maynard had joined them at the +gate, "you will have to speak to them." + +"Speak to them, my dear? What in the world could I say? I have nothing +to say to them." + +"Oh, but you must, Papa! Just thank them." + +"And tell them you are all for them, Daddy!" added Patricia impulsively. + +Then the old Doctor, buttoning his coat tightly about him and drawing +himself erect, said: + +"Rupert, please run your car out to the road. Thank you." Mounting +the car, he stood waiting quietly till the cheering had died down into +silence, his beautiful, noble, saintly face lit with the faint glow +that still came from the western sky but more with the inner light that +shines from a soul filled with high faith in God and compassion for man. + +"Gentlemen--" he began. + +"Ladies, too, Papa," said Patricia in a clear undertone. + +"Ah!" corrected the Doctor. "Ladies and Gentlemen:" while a laugh ran +down the line. "One generally begins a speech with the words 'I am glad +to see you here.' These words I cannot say this evening. I regret more +deeply than you can understand the occasion of your being here at all. +And in this regret I know that you all share. But I am glad that I +can say from my heart that I feel honoured by and deeply moved by +the compliment you have just paid me through your band. I could wish, +indeed, that I was the 'jolly good fellow' you have said, but as I look +at you I confess I am anything but 'jolly.' I have been in too many of +your homes during the last three weeks to be jolly. The simple truth +is, I am deeply saddened and, whatever be the rights or wrongs, and +all fair-minded men will agree that there are rights and wrongs on +both sides, my heart goes out in sympathy to all who are suffering and +anxious and fearful for the future. I will try to do my best to bring +about a better understanding." + +"We know that, sir," shouted a voice. "Ye done yer best." + +"But so far I and those labouring with me have failed. But surely, +surely, wise and reasonable men can find before many days a solution for +these problems. And now let me beg your leaders to be patient a little +longer, to banish angry and suspicious feelings and to be willing to +follow the light. I see that many of you are soldiers. To you my heart +goes out with a love as true as if you were my own sons, for you were +the comrades of my son. Let me appeal to you to preserve unbroken that +fine spirit of comradeship that made the Canadian Army what it was. And +let me assure you all that, however our weak and erring human hearts may +fail and come short, the great heart of the Eternal Father is unchanging +in Its love and pity for us all. Meantime, believe me, I shall never +cease to labour and pray that very soon peace may come to us again." +Then, lifting his hands over them while the men uncovered, he said a +brief prayer, closing with the apostolic blessing. + +Startled at the burst of cheering which followed shortly after the +conclusion of the prayer, the babe broke into loud crying. Vainly the +weary mother sought to quiet her child, she herself well-nigh exhausted +with her march, being hardly able to stand erect. Swiftly Adrien sprang +from the car and ran out to her. + +"Let me carry the babe," she cried, taking the child in her arms. "Come +into the car with me." + +"No," said the woman fiercely. "I will go through with it." But even as +she spoke she swayed upon her feet. + +With gentle insistence, however, Adrien caught her arm and forced her +toward the car. + +"I will not leave them," said the woman stubbornly. + +"Speak to her, Annette," said Adrien. "She cannot walk." + +"Mrs. Egan," said Annette, coming to her, "it will be quite all right +to go in the car. It will be all the better. Think of the fine parade it +will make." + +But, still protesting, the old woman hung back, crying, "Let me go! I +will go through!" + +"Sure thing!" cried Patricia. "We will take you along. Where's Rupert?" + +But Rupert, furious and disgusted, hung back in the shadow. + +"Here, Vic!" cried Patricia. "You take the wheel!" + +"Delighted, I am sure!" cried Vic, climbing into the seat. "Get in here, +Patsy. All set, Colonel," he added, saluting to the officer in command +of the parade, and again the column broke into cheering as they moved +off to the tap of the drum, Rupert's elegant Hudson Six taking a place +immediately following the band. + +"All my life I have longed for the spotlight," murmured Vic to his +companion, a delighted grin on his face. "But one can have too much of +a good thing. And, with Wellington, I am praying that night may come +before I reach the haunts of my comrades in arms." + +"Why, Vic, do you care?" cried Patricia. "Not I! And I think it was just +splendid of Adrien!" + +"Oh, topping! But did you see the gentle Rupert's face? Oh, it was +simply priceless! Fancy this sacred car leading a strikers' parade." And +Vic's body shook with delighted chuckles. + +"Don't laugh, Vic!" said Patricia, laying her hand upon his arm. "The +lady behind will see you." + +"Steady it is," said Vic. "But I feel as if I were the elephant in the +circus. I say, can we execute a flank movement, or must we go through to +the bitter end?" + +"Adrien," said Patricia, "do you think this night air is good for the +baby?" + +"We shall go on a bit yet," said Adrien. "Mrs. Egan is very tired and I +am sure will want to go home presently." + +But Mrs. Egan was beginning to recover her strength and, indeed, to +enjoy the new distinction of riding in a car, and in this high company. + +"No," she said, "I must go through." She had the look and tone of a +martyr. "They chose me, you see, and I must go through!" + +"Oh, very well," said Adrien cheerfully. "We shall just go along, Vic." + +Through the main streets of the town the parade marched and +countermarched till, in a sudden, they found themselves in front of the +McGinnis foundry. Before the gate in the high board fence which enclosed +the property, a small crowd had gathered, which greeted the marching +column with uproarious cheers. From the company at the gate a man rushed +forward and spoke eagerly to the officer in command. + +"By Jove, there's Tony!" said Vic. "And that chap McDonough. What does +this mean?" + +After a brief conversation with Tony, who apparently was passionately +pressing his opinion, the officer shook his head and marched steadily +forward. Suddenly Tony, climbing upon the fence, threw up his hand and, +pointing toward the foundry, shouted forth the single word, "Scabs!" +Instantly the column halted. Again Tony, in a yell, uttered the same +word, "Scabs!" From hundreds of throats there was an answering roar, +savage, bloodthirsty as from a pack of wild beasts. Tony waved his hand +for silence. + +"Scabs!" he cried again. "McGinnis strike-breakers! They came to-night. +They are in there!" He swung his arm around and pointed to the foundry. +"Shall we give them a welcome? What do you say, boys?" Again and more +fiercely than before, more terribly cruel, came the answering roar. + +"Here, this is no place for you!" cried Vic. "Let's get out." At his +touch the machine leaped forward, clear of the crowd. + +"Annette!" cried Adrien, her hand on Vic's shoulder. "Go and get her!" + +Halting the car, Vic leaped from the wheel, ran to where the girls' +squad was halted and caught Annette by the arm. + +"Annette," he said, "get your girls away from here quick! Come with us!" + +But Annette laughed scornfully at him. + +"Go with you? Not I! But," she added in a breathless undertone, "for +God's sake, get your ladies and the baby away. These people won't know +who you are. Move quick!" + +"Come with us, Annette!" implored Vic. "If you come, the rest will +follow." + +"Go! Go!" cried Annette, pushing him. Already the crowd were tearing the +fence to pieces with their hands, and rocks were beginning to fly. + +Failing to move the girl, Vic sprang to the wheel again. + +"I will get you away from this, anyway," he said. + +"But Annette!" cried Patricia. "We can't leave her!" + +But Vic made no reply, and at his touch the machine leaped forward, +and none too soon, for already men were crowding about the car on every +side. + +"We are well out of that!" said Vic coolly. "And now I will take you all +home. Hello! They're messing up McGinnis's things a bit," he added, as +the sound of crashing glass came to their ears. + +Through the quiet streets the car flew like a hunted thing, and in a +very few minutes they were at the Rectory door. + +"No fuss, now, Patricia," said Adrien, "we must not alarm Mamma. All +steady." + +"Right you are! Steady it is!" said Patricia springing from the car. +Quietly but swiftly they got the woman and the child indoors. + +"Hugh! Rupert!" said Adrien, speaking in a quiet voice. "Vic needs you +out there. That is a wild car of yours, Rupert," she added with a laugh. +"It fairly flies." Gathering in her hands the men's hats and sticks, she +hurried them out of the door. + +"Cheerio!" cried Vic. "A lovely war is going on down at the McGinnis +plant. Get in and let us plan a campaign. First, to Police Headquarters, +I suppose." As they flew through the streets Vic gave them in a few +words a picture of the scenes he had just witnessed. + +They found the Chief of Police in his office. At their first word he was +on the move. + +"I was afraid of this thing when that fool parade started," he said. +"Sergeant, send out the general alarm!" + +"How many men have you, Chief?" inquired Hugh. + +"About twenty-five, all told. But they are all over the town. How many +men are down there?" + +"There are five hundred, at least; possibly a thousand, raging like wild +bulls of Bashan." + +As he spoke, another car came tearing up and Jack Maitland sprang from +the wheel. + +"Are you in need of help, Chief?" he asked quietly. + +"All the good men we can get," said the Chief curtly. "But first we must +get the Mayor here. Sergeant, get him on the phone." + +"You go for him, Vic," said Jack. + +"Righto!" cried Vic. "But count me in on this." + +In fifteen minutes Vic was back with the Mayor, helpless with nervous +excitement. + +"Get your men out, Chief!" he shouted, as he sprang from the car. "Get +them out quick, arrest those devils and lock 'em up! We'll show them a +thing or two! Hurry up! What are you waiting for?" + +"Mr. Mayor," Jack's clear, firm, cool voice arrested the Mayor's +attention. "May I suggest that you swear in some special constables? The +Chief will need help and some of us here would be glad to assist." + +"Yes! Yes! For God's sake, hurry up! Here's the clerk. How do you swear +them in, clerk?" + +"The Chief of Police has all the necessary authority." + +"All right, Chief. Swear them! Swear them! For heaven's sake, swear +them! Here, you, Maitland--and you, Maynard--and Stillwell--" + +With cool, swift efficiency born of his experience in the war, the Chief +went on with his arrangements. In his hands the process of swearing in +a number of special constables was speedily accomplished. Meantime many +cars and a considerable number of men had gathered about the Police +Headquarters. + +"What is that light?" cried the Mayor suddenly, pointing in the +direction of the foundry. "It's a fire! My God, Chief, do you see that +fire? Hurry up! Why don't you hurry up? They will burn the town down." + +"All right, Mr. Mayor," said the Chief. "We shall be there in a few +minutes now. Captain Maitland," said the Chief, "I will take the men I +have with me. Will you swear in all you can get within the next fifteen +or twenty minutes, and report to me at the foundry? Sergeant, you come +along with me! I'm off!" So saying, the Chief commandeered as many cars +as were necessary, packed them with the members of his police force +available and with the specials he had secured, and hurried away. + +After the Chief had retired, Jack stood up in his car. "Any of you chaps +want to get into this?" he said, addressing the crowd. His voice was +cheery and cool. At once a dozen voices responded. "Righto!" "Here +you are!" "Put me down!" In less than fifteen minutes, he had secured +between forty and fifty men. + +"I want all these cars," he said. "Get in, men. Hold on!" he shouted at +a driver who had thrown in his clutch. "Let no man move without orders! +Any man disobeying orders will be arrested at once! Remember that no +guns are to be used, no matter what provocation may be given. Even if +you are fired on, don't fire in return! Does any man know where we can +get anything in the shape of clubs?" + +"Hundreds of axe handles in our store," said Rupert. + +"Right you are! Drivers, fall in line. Keep close up. Now, Mr. Mayor, if +you please." + +Armed with axe handles from Stillwell & Son's store, they set off for +the scene of action. Arrived at the foundry they found the maddest, +wildest confusion raging along the street in front of the foundry, and +in the foundry yard which was crowded with men. The board fence along +the front of the grounds had been torn down and used as fagots to fire +the foundry, which was blazing merrily in a dozen places. Everywhere +about the blazing building parties of men like hounds on the trail +were hunting down strike-breakers and, on finding them, were brutally +battering them into insensibility. + +Driving his car through the crowd, Maitland found his way to the +Chief. In a few short, sharp sentences, the Chief explained his plan of +operations. "Clear the street in front, and hold it so! Then come and +assist me in clearing this yard." + +"All right, sir!" replied Maitland, touching his hat as to a superior +officer, and, wheeling his car, he led his men back to the thronging +street. + +Meantime, the Fire Department had arrived upon the scene with a couple +of engines, a hose reel and other fire-fighting apparatus, the firemen +greatly hampered in their operations. + +Swinging his car back through the crowd, Maitland made his way to the +street, and set to work to clear the space immediately in front of the +foundry. Parking his cars at one end of the street, and forming his men +up in a single line, he began slowly to press back the crowd. It +was slow and difficult work, for the crowd, unable to recognise his +ununiformed special constables, resented their attack. + +He called Victor to his side. "Get a man with you," he said, "and bring +up two cars here." + +"Come along, Rupert," cried Victor, seizing Stillwell, and together they +darted back to where the cars stood. Mounting one of the cars, Maitland +shouted in a loud voice: + +"The Chief of Police wants this street cleared. So get back, please! We +don't wish to hurt anyone. Now, get back!" And lining up level with the +cars, the special constables again began to press forward, using their +axe handles as bayonets and seeking to prod their way through. + +High up on a telegraph pole, his foot on one of the climbing spikes, was +a man directing and encouraging the attack. As he drew near, Maitland +discovered this man to be no other than Tony, wildly excited and vastly +enjoying himself. + +"Come down, Tony!" he said. "Hurry up!" + +"Cheerio, Captain!" shouted Tony. "What about Festubert?" + +"Come down, Tony," said Maitland, "and be quick about it!" + +"Sorry, can't do it, Captain. I am a fixture here." + +Like a cat, Maitland swarmed up the pole and coming to a level with +Tony, struck him swiftly and unexpectedly a single blow. It caught Tony +on the chin. He swung off from the post, hung a moment, then dropped +quietly to the ground. As he fell, a woman's shriek rang out from the +crowd and tearing her way through the line came Annette, who flung +herself upon her brother. + +"Here you," said Jack, seizing a couple of men from the crowd, "get this +man in my car. Now, Annette," he continued, "don't make a fuss. Tony +isn't hurt. We'll send him quietly home. Now then, men, let's have no +nonsense," he shouted. "I want this street cleared, and quick!" + +As he spoke, a huge man ran out from the crowd and, with an oath, flung +himself at Maitland. But before he came within striking distance, an axe +handle flashed and the man went down like a log. + +"Axe handles!" shouted Maitland. "But steady, men!" + +Over the heads of the advancing line, the axe handles swung, men +dropping before them at every step. At once the crowd began a hasty +retreat, till the pressure upon the back lines made it impossible for +those in front to escape. From over the heads of the crowd rocks began +to fly. A number of his specials were wounded and for a moment the +advance hung fire. Down through the crowd came a fireman, dragging with +him a hose preparatory to getting into action. + +"Hello, there!" called Maitland. The fireman looked up at him. Jack +sprang down to his side. "I want to clear this street," he said. "You +can do it for me." + +"Well, I can try," said the fireman with a grin, and turning his hose +toward the crowd, gave the signal for the water, holding the nozzle at +an angle slightly off the perpendicular. In a very few moments the +crowd in the rear found themselves under a deluge of falling water, and +immediately they took to their heels, followed as rapidly as possible +by those in front. Then, levelling his nozzle, the fireman proceeded +to wash back from either side of the street those who had sought refuge +there, and before many minutes had elapsed, the street was cleared, and +in command of Maitland's specials. + +Leaving the street under guard, Maitland and his specials went to the +help of the Chief, who was hampered more or less by His Worship, the +Mayor, and very considerably by Mr. McGinnis, who had meantime arrived, +mad with rage and demanding blood, and proceeded to clear up the foundry +yard, and rescue the strike-breakers who had taken refuge within the +burning building and in holes and corners about the premises. It was no +light matter, but under the patient, good-natured but resolute direction +of the Chief, they finally completed their job, rounding up the +strike-breakers in a corner of the yard and driving off their assailants +to a safe distance. + +There remained still the most difficult part of their task. The +strike-breakers must be got to the Police Headquarters, the nearest +available place of safety. For, on the street beyond the water line, the +crowd was still waiting in wrathful mood. The foundry was a wreck, +but even this did not satisfy the fury of the strikers, which had been +excited by the presence of the strike-breakers imported by McGinnis. +For the more seriously injured, ambulances were called, and these were +safely got off under police guard to the General Hospital. + +The Chief entered into consultation with the Mayor: + +"The only safe place within reach," he said, "is Police Headquarters. +And the shortest and best route is up the hill to the left. But +unfortunately, that is where the big crowd is gathered. There are not so +many if we take the route to the right, but that is a longer way round." + +"Put the men in your cars, Chief," said McGinnis, "and smash your way +through. They can't stop you." + +"Yes, and kill a dozen or so," said the Chief. + +"Why not? Aren't they breaking the law?" + +"Oh, well, Mr. McGinnis," said the Chief, "it is easy to kill men. The +trouble is they are no use to anybody after they are dead. No, we must +have no killing to-night. To-morrow we'd be sorry for it." + +"Let us drive up and see them," suggested the Mayor. "Let me talk to the +boys. The boys know me." + +The Chief did not appear to be greatly in love with the suggestion of +the Mayor. + +"Well," he said, "it would do no harm to drive up and have a look at +them. We'll see how they are fixed, anyway. I think, Mr. McGinnis, you +had better remain on guard here. The Mayor and Captain Maitland will +come with me." + +Commandeering Rupert and his car, the Chief took his party at a moderate +pace up the street, at the top of which the crowd stood waiting in +compact masses. Into these masses Rupert recklessly drove his car. + +"Steady there, Stillwell," warned the Chief. "You'll hurt someone." + +"Hurt them?" said Rupert. "What do you want?" + +"Certainly not to hurt anyone," replied the Chief quietly. "The function +of my police force is the protection of citizens. Halt there!" + +The Chief stepped out among the strikers and stood in the glare of the +headlights. + +"Well, boys," he said pleasantly, "don't you think it is time to get +home? I think you have done enough damage to-night already. I am going +to give you a chance to get away. We don't want to hurt anyone and we +don't want to have any of you down for five years or so." + +Then the Mayor spoke up. "Men, this is a most disgraceful thing. Most +deplorable. Think of the stain upon the good name of our fair city." + +Howls of derision drowned his further speech for a time. + +"Now, boys," he continued, "can't we end this thing right here? Why +can't you disperse quietly and go to your homes? What do you want here, +anyway?" + +"Scabs!" yelled a voice, followed by a savage yell from the crowd. + +"Men," said the Chief sharply, "you know me. I want this street cleared. +I shall return here in five minutes and anyone seeking to stop me will +do so at his own risk. I have a hundred men down there and this time +they won't give you the soft end of the club." + +"We want them sulphurously described scabs," yelled a voice. "We ain't +goin' to kill them, Chief. They're lousy. We want to give 'em a bath." +And a savage yell of laughter greeted the remark. On every hand the +word was taken up: "A bath! A bath! The river! The river!" The savage +laughter of the crowd was even more horrible than their rage. + +"All right, boys. We are coming back and we are going through. Leave +this street clear or take your chances! It's up to you!" So saying, the +car was turned about and the party proceeded back to the foundry. + +"What are you going to do, Chief?" inquired the Mayor anxiously. + +"There are a lot of soldiers in that crowd," said the Chief. "I don't +like the looks of them. They are too steady. I hate to smash through +them." + +Arrived at the foundry, the Chief paced up and down, pondering his +problem. He called Maitland to his side. + +"How many cars have we here, Maitland?" he inquired. + +"Some fifteen, I think. And there are five or six more parked down on +the street." + +"That would be enough," said the Chief. "I hate the idea of smashing +through that crowd. You see, some of those boys went through hell with +me and I hate to hurt them." + +"Why not try a ruse?" suggested Maitland. "Divide your party. You take +five or six cars with constables up the hill to that crowd there. Let me +take the strikebreakers and the rest of the cars and make a dash to the +right. It's a longer way round but with the streets clear, we can arrive +at Headquarters in a very few minutes." + +The Chief considered the plan for a few minutes in silence. + +"It's a good plan, Maitland," he said at length. "It's a good plan. +And we'll put it through. I'll make the feint on the left; you run +them through on the right. I believe we can pull it off. Give me a few +minutes to engage their attention before you set out." + +Everything came off according to plan. As the Chief's detachment of +cars approached the solid mass of strikers, they slowly gave back before +them. + +"Clear the way there!" said the Chief. "We are going through!" + +Step by step the crowd gave way, pressed by the approaching cars. +Suddenly, at a word of command, the mass opened ranks and the Chief saw +before him a barrier across the street, constructed of fencing torn from +neighbouring gardens, an upturned delivery wagon, a very ugly and very +savage-looking field harrow commandeered from a neighbouring market +garden, with wicked-looking, protruding teeth and other debris of +varied material, but all helping to produce a most effective barricade. +Silently the Chief stood for a few moments, gazing at the obstruction. +A curious, ominous growl of laughter ran through the mob. Then came a +sharp word of command: + +"Unload!" + +As with one movement his party of constables were on the ground and +lined up in front of their cars, with their clubs and axe handles ready +for service. Still the mob waited in ominous silence. The Chief drew his +gun and said in a loud, clear voice: + +"I am going to clear away this barricade. The first man that offers to +prevent me I shall shoot on the spot." + +"I wouldn't do that, Chief," said a voice quietly from the rear. "There +are others, you know. Listen." + +Three shots rang out in rapid succession, and again silence fell. + +Meantime from the corner of the barricade a man had been peering into +the cars. + +"Boys!" he shouted. "They ain't there! There ain't no scabs." + +The Chief laughed quietly. + +"Who said there were?" he asked. + +"Sold, by thunder!" said the man. Then he yelled: "We'll get 'em yet. +Come on, boys, to the main street." + +Like a deer, he doubled down a side street, followed by the crowd, +yelling, cursing, swearing deep oaths. + +"Let 'em go," said the Chief. "Maitland's got through by this time." As +he spoke, two shots rang out, followed by the crash of glass, and the +headlights of the first car went black. + +"Just as well you didn't get through, Chief," said the voice of the +previous speaker. "Might've got hurt, eh?" + +"Give it to him, Chief," said Rupert savagely. + +"No use," said the Chief. "Let him go." + +Meanwhile, Maitland, with little or no opposition, had got his cars +through the crowd, which as a matter of fact were unaware of the +identity of the party until after they had broken through. + +Their way led by a circuitous route through quiet back streets, +approaching Police Headquarters from the rear. A ten-minute run brought +them to a short side street which led past the Maitland Mills, at the +entrance to which they saw under the glare of the arc lights over the +gateway a crowd blocking their way. + +"Now, what in thunder is this? Hold up a minute," said Maitland to his +driver. "Let me take a look." He ran forward to the main entrance. +There he found the gateway, which stood a little above the street +level, blocked by a number of his own men, some of whom he recognised +as members of his hockey team, and among them, McNish. Out in the street +among the crowd stood Simmons, standing on a barrel, lashing himself +into a frenzy and demanding blood, fire, revolution, and what not. + +"McNish, you here?" said Maitland sharply. "What is it, peace or war? +Speak quick!" + +"A'm haudden these fules back fra the mill," answered McNish with a +scowl. Then, dropping into his book English, he continued bitterly: +"They have done enough to-night already. They have wrecked our cause for +us!" + +"You are dead right, McNish," answered Maitland. "And what do they want +here?" + +"They are some of McGinnis's men and they are mad at the way you handled +them over yonder. They are bound to get in here. They are only waiting +for the rest of the crowd. Yon eejit doesn't know what he is saying. +They are all half-drunk." + +Maitland's mind worked swiftly. "McNish, listen!" he said. "I am in a +deuce of a fix. I have the scabs in those cars there with me. The crowd +are following me up. What shall I do?" + +"My God, man, you're lost. They'll tear ye tae bits." + +"McNish, listen. I'll run them into the office by the side gate down the +street. Keep them busy here. Let that fool Simmons spout all he wants. +He'll help to make a row." + +His eyes fell upon a crouching figure at his feet. + +"Who is this? It's Sam, by all that's holy! Why, Sam, you are the very +chap I want. Listen, boy. Slip around to the side door and open it wide +till I bring in some cars. Then shut and bar it quick." Carefully he +repeated his instructions. "Can you do it, Sam?" + +"I'm awful scared, Captain," replied the boy, his teeth chattering, "but +I'll try it." + +"Good boy," said Maitland. "Don't fail me, Sam. They might kill me." + +"All right, Captain. I'll do it!" And Sam disappeared, crawling under +the gate, while Maitland slipped back to his cars and passed the word +among the drivers. "Keep close up and stop for nothing!" + +They had almost made the entry when some man hanging on the rear of the +crowd caught sight of them. + +"Scabs! Scabs!" cried the man, dashing after the cars. But Sam was equal +to his task, and as the last car passed through the gateway he slammed +and bolted the door in their faces. + +Disposing of the strike-breakers in the office, Maitland and his guard +of specials passed outside to the main gate and took their places beside +McNish and his guard. Before them the mob had become a mad, yelling, +frenzied thing, bereft of power of thought, swaying under the fury of +their passion like tree tops blown by storm, reiterating in hoarse and +broken cries the single word "Scabs! Scabs!" + +"Keep them going somehow, McNish," said Maitland. "The Chief won't be +long now." + +McNish climbed up upon the fence and, held in place there by two +specials, lifted his hand for silence. But Simmons, who all too +obviously had fallen under the spell of the bootleggers, knew too well +the peril of his cause. Shrill and savage rose his voice: + +"Don't listen to 'im. 'E's a traitor, a blank and double-blank traitor. +'E sold us (h)up, 'e 'as. Don't listen to 'im." + +Like a maniac he spat out the words from his foam-flecked lips, waving +his arms madly about his head. Relief came from an unexpected source. +Sam Wigglesworth, annoyed at Simmons's persistence and observing that +McNish, to whom as a labour leader he felt himself bound, regarded the +orating and gesticulating Simmons with disfavour, reached down and, +pulling a sizable club from beneath the bottom of a fence, took careful +aim and, with the accuracy of the baseball pitcher that he was, hurled +it at the swaying figure upon the barrel. The club caught Simmons fair +in the mouth, who, being, none too firmly set upon his pedestal, itself +affording a wobbling foothold, landed spatting and swearing in the arms +of his friends below. With the mercurial temper characteristic of a +crowd, they burst into a yell of laughter. + +"Go to it now, McNish!" said Maitland. + +Echoing the laughter, McNish once more held up his hand. "Earth to +earth, ashes to ashes," he said in his deepest and most solemn tone. The +phenomenal absurdity of a joke from the solemn Scotchman again tickled +the uncertain temperament of the crowd into boisterous laughter. + +"Men, listen tae me!" cried McNish. "Ye mad a bad mistake the nicht. +In fact, ye're a lot of fules. And those who led ye are worse, for they +have lost us the strike, if that is any satisfaction tae ye. And now +ye want to do another fule thing. Ye're mad just because ye didn't know +enough to keep out of the wet." + +But at this point, a man fighting his way from the rear of the crowd, +once more raised the cry "Scabs!" + +"Keep that fool quiet," said McNish sharply. + +"Keep quiet yourself, McNish," replied the man, still pushing his way +toward the front. + +"Heaven help us now," said Maitland. "It's Tony, and drunk at that!" + +It was indeed Tony, without hat, coat or vest. + +"McNish, we want those scabs," said Tony, in drunken gravity. + +"There are nae scabs here. Haud ye're drunken tongue," said McNish +savagely. + +"McNish," persisted Tony in a grave and perfectly courteous tone, +"you're a liar. The scabs are in that office." A roar again swept the +crowd. + +"Men, listen to me," pleaded McNish. "A'll tell ye about the scabs. They +are in the office yonder. But I have Captain Maitland's word o' honour +that they will be shipped out of town by the first train." + +A savage yell answered him. + +"McNish, we'll do the shipping," said Tony, moving still nearer the +speaker. + +"Officer," said Maitland sharply to a uniformed policeman standing by +his side, "arrest that man!" pointing to Tony. + +The policeman drew his baton, took two strides forward, seized Tony by +the back of the neck and drew him in. An angry yell went up from the +mob. Maitland felt a hand upon his arm. Looking down, he saw to his +horror and dismay Annette, her face white and stricken with grief and +terror. + +"Oh, Jack," she pleaded, "don't let Tony be arrested. He broke away from +us. Let me take him. He will come with me. Oh, let me take him!" + +"Rescue! Rescue!" shouted the crowd, rushing the cordon of police lining +the street. + +"Kill him! Kill the traitor!" yelled Simmons, struggling through and +waving unsteadily the revolver in his hand. "Down with that tyrant, +Maitland! Kill him!" he shrieked. + +He raised his arm, holding his gun with both hands. + +"Look out, Jack," shrieked Annette, flinging herself on him. + +Simultaneously with the shot, a woman's scream rang out and Annette fell +back into Maitland's arms. A silence deep as death fell upon the mob. + +With a groan McNish dropped from the fence beside the girl. + +Annette opened her eyes and, looking up into Maitland's face, whispered: +"He didn't get you, Jack. I'm so glad." + +"Oh, Annette, dear girl! He's killed you!" + +"It's--all--right--Jack," she whispered. "I--saved--you." + +Meanwhile McNish, with her hand caught in his, was sobbing: "God, have +mercy! She's deed! She's deed!" + +Annette again opened her eyes. "Poor Malcolm," she whispered. "Dear +Malcolm." Then, closing her eyes again, quietly as a tired child, she +sank into unconsciousness. The big Scotchman, still kissing her hand, +sobbed: + +"Puir lassie, puir lassie! Ma God! Ma God! What now? What now?" + +"She is dead. The girl is dead." The word passed from lip to lip among +the crowd, which still held motionless and silent. + +"We'll get her into the office," said Maitland. + +"A'll tak her," said McNish, and, stopping down, he lifted her tenderly +in his arms, stood for a moment facing the crowd, and then in a voice of +unutterable sadness that told of a broken heart, he said: "Ye've killed +her. Ye've killed the puir lassie. Are ye content?" And passed in +through the gate, holding the motionless form close to his heart. + +As he passed with his pathetic burden, the men on guard at the gate +bared their heads. Immediately on every hand throughout the crowd men +took off their hats and stood silent till he had disappeared from their +sight. In the presence of that poignant grief their rage against him +ceased, swept out of their hearts by an overwhelming pity. + +In one swift instant a door had opened from another and unknown world, +and through the open door a Presence, majestic, imperious, had moved +in upon them, withering with His icy breath their hot passions, smiting +their noisy clamour to guilty silence. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A GALLANT FIGHT + + +In the Rectory the night was one long agony of fear and anxiety. Adrien +had taken Mrs. Egan and her babe home in a taxi as soon as circumstances +would warrant, and then, lest they should alarm their mother, they made +pretense of retiring for the night. + +After seeing their mother safely bestowed, they slipped downstairs, and, +muffling the telephone, sat waiting for news, slipping out now and then +to the street, one at a time, to watch the glare of the fire in the sky +and to listen for the sounds of rioting from the town. + +At length from Victor came news of the tragedy. With whitening face, +Adrien took the message. Not for nothing had she walked the wards in +France. + +"Listen, Victor," she said, speaking in a quick, firm voice. "It is +almost impossible to get a nurse in time and quite impossible to get one +skilled in this sort of case. Come for me. I shall be ready and shall +take charge. Tell Dr. Meredith I am quite free." + +"All right. Lose no time." + +"Oh, what is it, Adrien?" said Patricia, wringing her hands. "Is it +Jack? Or Victor?" + +Adrien caught her by the shoulders: "Patricia, I want your help. No +talk! Come with me. I will tell you as I dress." + +Swiftly, with no hurry or flurry, Adrien changed into her uniform, +packed her bag, giving Patricia meantime the story of the tragedy which +she had heard over the telephone. + +"And to think it might have been Jack," said Patricia, wringing her +hands. "Oh, dear, dear Annette. Can't I help in some way, Adrien?" + +"Patricia, listen to me, child. The first thing is keep your head. You +can help me greatly. You will take charge here and later, perhaps, you +can help me in other ways. Meantime you must assume full responsibility +for them all here. Much depends on you!" + +The girl stood gazing with wide-open blue eyes at her sister. Then +quietly she answered: + +"I'll do my best, Adrien. There's Vic." She rushed swiftly downstairs. +Suddenly she stopped, steadied her pace, and received him with a calm +that surprised that young man beyond measure. + +"Adrien is quite ready, Vic," she said. + +"Topping," said Vic. "What a brick she is! Dr. Meredith didn't know +where to turn for a nurse. The hospital is full. Every nurse is +engaged. So much sickness, you know, in town. Ah, here she is. You are a +lightning-change artist, Adrien." + +"How is Annette, Vic? Is she still living?" asked Patricia. + +"I don't know," replied Vic, wondering at the change in the girl before +him. + +"Darling," said Adrien, "I will let you know at once. I hate to leave +you." + +"Leave me!" cried Patricia. "Nonsense, Adrien, I shall be quite all +right. Only," she added, clasping her hands, "let me know when you can." + +When the ambulance arrived at the Maitland home, Adrien was at the door. +All was in readiness--hot water, bandages, and everything needful to the +doctor's hand. + +McNish carried Annette up to the room prepared for her, laid her down +and stood in dumb grief looking down upon her. + +Adrien touched him on the arm. + +"Come," she said. And, taking his arm, led him downstairs. "Stay here," +she said. "I will bring you word as soon as possible." + +An hour later she returned, and found him sitting in the exact position +in which she had left him. He apparently had not moved hand or foot. At +her entrance he looked up, eager, voiceless. + +"She is resting," said Adrien. "The bullet is extracted. It had gone +quite through to the outer skin--a clean wound." + +"How long," said McNish, passing his tongue over his dry lips, "how long +does the doctor say--" + +"The doctor says nothing. She asked for you." + +McNish started up and went toward the door. + +"But you cannot go to her now." + +"She asked for me?" said McNish. + +"Yes. But she must be kept quite quiet. The very least excitement might +hurt her." + +"Hurt her?" said McNish, and sat down quietly. + +After a moment's silence, he said: + +"You will let me see her--once more--before she--she--" He paused, his +lips quivering, his great blue eyes pitifully beseeching her. + +"Mr. McNish," said Adrien, "she may not die." + +"Ma God!" he whispered, falling on his knees and catching her hand in +both of his. "Ma God! Dinna lee tae me." + +"Believe me, I would not," said Adrien, while the great eyes seemed to +drag the truth from her very soul. "The doctor says nothing, but I have +seen many cases of bullet wounds, and I have hope." + +"Hope," he whispered. "Hope! Ma God! hope!" His hands went to his face +and his great frame shook with silent sobbing. + +"But you must be very quiet and steady." + +Immediately he was on his feet and standing like a soldier at attention. + +"Ay, A wull," he whispered eagerly. "Tell me what tae do?" + +"First of all," said Adrien, "we must have something to eat." + +A shudder passed through him. "Eat?" he said, as if he had never heard +the word. + +"Yes," said Adrien. "Remember, you promised." + +"Ay. A'll eat." Like a man under a mesmeric spell, he went through the +motions of eating. His mind was far away, his eyes eager, alert, forever +upon her face. + +When they had finished their meal, Adrien said: + +"Now, Mr. McNish, is there anything I can do for you?" + +"A would like to send word to ma mither," he said. "She disna ken +onything--aboot--aboot Annette--aboot Annette an' me," a faint touch of +red coming slowly up in his grey face. + +"I shall get word to her. I know the very man. I shall phone the +Reverend Murdo Matheson." + +"Ay," said McNish, "he is the man." + +"Now, then," said Adrien, placing him in an easy chair, "you must rest +there. Remember, I am keeping watch." + +With the promise that he would do his best to rest, she left him sitting +bolt upright in his chair. + +Toward morning, Maitland appeared, weary and haggard. Adrien greeted him +with tender solicitude; it was almost maternal in its tone. + +"Oh, Adrien," said Maitland, with a great sight of relief, "you don't +know how good it is to see you here. It bucks one tremendously to feel +that you are on this job." + +"I shall get you some breakfast immediately," she answered in a calm, +matter-of-fact voice. "You are done out. Your father has come in and has +gone to lie down. McNish is in the library." + +"And Annette?" said Maitland. He was biting his lips to keep them from +quivering. "Is she still--" + +"She is resting. The maid is watching beside her. Dear Jack," she +uttered with a quick rush of sympathy, "I know how hard this is for you. +But I am not without hope for Annette." + +A quick light leaped into his eyes. "Hope, did you say? Oh, thank the +good Lord." His voice broke and he turned away from her. "You know," he +said, coming back, "she gave her life for me. Oh, Adrien, think of it! +She threw herself in the way of death for me. She covered me with her +own body." He sat down suddenly as if almost in collapse, and buried his +head in his arms, struggling for control. + +Adrien went to him and put her arm round his shoulder--she might have +been his mother. "Dear Jack," she said, "it was a wonderful thing she +did. God will surely spare her to you." + +He rose wearily from his chair and put his arms around her. + +"Oh, Adrien," he said, "it is good to have you here. I do need, we all +need you so." + +Gently she put his arms away from her. "And now," she said briskly, +"I am going to take charge of you, Jack, of you all, and you must obey +orders." + +"Only give me a chance to do anything for you," he said, "or for anyone +you care for." + +There was a puzzled expression on Adrien's face as she turned away. But +she asked no explanation. + +"My first order, then," she said, "is this: you must have your breakfast +and then go to bed for an hour or two." + +"I shall be glad to breakfast, but I have a lot of things to do." + +"Can't they wait? And won't you do them better after a good sleep?" + +"Some of them can't wait," he replied. "I have just got Tony to bed. The +doctor has sent him to sleep. His father and mother are watching him. +Oh, Adrien, that is a sad home. It was a terrible experience for me. +Tony I must see when he wakes and the poor old father and mother will be +over here early. I must be ready for them." + +"Very well, Jack," said Adrien in a prompt, businesslike tone. "You have +two clear hours for sleep. You must sleep for the sake of others, you +understand. I promise to wake you in good time." + +"And what about yourself, Adrien?" + +"Oh, this is my job," she said lightly. "I shall be relieved in the +afternoon, the doctor has promised." + +When the Employers' Defence Committee met next morning there were many +haggard faces among its members. In the large hall outside the committee +room a considerable number of citizens, young and old, had gathered and +with them the Mayor, conversing in voices tinged with various emotions, +anxiety, pity, wrath, according to the temper and disposition of each. + +In the committee room Mr. Farrington was in the chair. No sooner had +the meeting been called to order than Mr. Maitland arose, and, speaking +under deep but controlled feeling, he said: + +"Gentlemen, I felt sure none of us would wish to transact ordinary +business this morning. I was sure, too, that in the very distressing +circumstances under which we meet you would feel as I do the need +of guidance and help. I therefore took the liberty of inviting the +deputation from the Ministerial Association which waited on us the other +day to join us in our deliberation. Mr. Haynes is away from town, but +Dr. Templeton and Mr. Matheson have kindly consented to be present. They +will be here in half an hour's time." + +A general and hearty approval of his action was expressed, after which +the Chairman invited suggestions as to the course to be pursued. But +no one was ready with a suggestion. Somehow the outlook upon life +was different this morning, and readjustment of vision appeared to be +necessary. No man felt himself qualified to offer advice. + +From this dilemma they were relieved by a knock upon the door and the +Mayor appeared. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I have no wish to intrude, but a great many of +our citizens are in the larger hall. They are anxious to be advised upon +the present trying situation. It has been suggested that your committee +might join with us in a general public meeting." + +After a few moments' consideration, the Mayor's proposition was accepted +and the committee adjourned to the larger hall, Mr. Farrington resigning +the chair to His Worship, the Mayor. + +The Mayor's tongue was not so ready this morning. He explained the +circumstances of the meeting and thanked the committee for yielding to +his request. He was ready to receive any suggestions as to what the next +step should be. + +The silence which followed was broken by Mr. McGinnis, who arose and, in +a voice much shaken, he inquired: + +"Can anyone tell us just what is the last word concerning the young girl +this morning?" + +Mr. Maitland replied: "Before I left the house, the last report was that +she was resting quietly and, while the doctor was not able to offer any +hope of her recovery, he ventured to say that he did not quite despair. +And that from Dr. Meredith, as we know, means something." + +"Thank God for that," said McGinnis, and leaning his head upon his hand, +he sat with his eyes fixed upon the floor. + +Again the Mayor asked for suggestions, but no one in the audience +appeared willing to assume the responsibility of offering guidance. + +At length Rupert Stillwell arose. He apologised for speaking in the +presence of older men, but something had to be done and he ventured to +offer one suggestion at least. + +"It occurs to me," he said, "that one thing at least should be +immediately done. Those responsible for the disgraceful riot of last +evening, and I mean more than the actual ringleaders in the affair, +should be brought to justice." He proceeded to elaborate upon the +enormity of the crime, the danger to the State of mob rule, the +necessity for stern measures to prevent the recurrence of such +disorders. He suggested a special citizens' committee for the +preservation of public order. + +His words appeared to meet the approval of a large number of those +present, especially of the younger men. + +While he was speaking, the audience appeared to be greatly relieved to +see Dr. Templeton and the Reverend Murdo Matheson walk in and quietly +take their seats. They remembered, many of them, how at a recent similar +gathering these gentlemen had advised a procedure which, if followed, +would have undoubtedly prevented the disasters of the previous night. + +Giving a brief account of the proceedings of the meeting to the present +point, the Mayor suggested that Dr. Templeton might offer them a word of +advice. + +Courteously thanking the Mayor for his invitation, the Doctor said: + +"As I came in this room, I caught the words of my young friend, who +suggested a committee for the preservation of public order. May I +suggested that the preservation of public order in the community is +something that can be entrusted to no committee? It rests with the whole +community. We have all made mistakes, we are constantly making mistakes. +We have yielded to passion, and always to our sorrow and hurt. We have +vainly imagined that by the exercise of force we can settle strife. +No question of right or justice is settled by fighting, for, after the +fighting is done, the matter in dispute remains to be settled. We have +tried that way and to-day we are fronted with disastrous failure. I +have come from a home over which the shadow of death hangs low. There a +father and mother lie prostrate with sorrow, agonising for the life of +their child. But a deeper shadow lies there, a shadow of sin, for the +sting of death is sin. A brother torn with self-condemnation, his heart +broken with grief for his sister, who loved him better than her own +life, lies under that shadow of sin. But, gentlemen, can any of us +escape from that shadow? Do we not all share in that sin? For we all +have a part in the determining of our environment. Can we not, by God's +grace, lift that shadow at least from our lives? Let us turn our faces +from the path of strife toward the path of peace, for the pathway of +right doing and of brotherly kindness is the only path to peace in this +world." + +The Chairman then called upon the Reverend Murdo Matheson to express +his mind. But at this point, the whole audience were galvanised into an +intensity of confused emotion by the entrance of the Executive of the +Allied Unions, led by McNish himself. Simmons alone was absent, being +at that moment, with some half dozen others, in the care of the police. +Silently the Executive Committee walked to the front and found seats, +McNish alone remaining standing. Grey, gaunt, hollow-eyed, he met with +steady gaze the eyes of the audience, some of them aflame with hostile +wrath, for in him they recognised the responsible head of the labour +movement that had wrought such disaster and grief in the community. + +Without apology or preface McNish began: "I am here seeking peace," he +said, in his hoarse, hard, guttural voice. "I have made mistakes. Would +I could suffer for them alone, but no, others must suffer with me. I +have only condemnation for the outrages of last night. We repudiate +them, we lament them. We tried to prevent them, but human passion and +circumstances were too strong for us. We would undo the ill--would to +God could undo the ill. How gladly would I suffer all that has come to +others." His deep, harsh voice shook under the stress of his emotion. +He lifted his head: "I cannot deny my cause," he continued, his voice +ringing out clear. "Our cause was right, but the spirit was wrong." He +paused a few moments, evidently gathering strength to hold his voice +steady. "Yes, the spirit was wrong and this day is a black day to me. We +come to ask for peace. God knows I have no heart for war." + +Again he paused, his strong stern face working strangely under the +stress of the emotions which he was fighting to subdue. "We suggest a +committee of three, with powers to arbitrate, and we name as our man one +who till recently was one of our Union, a man of fair and honest mind, +a man without fear and with a heart for his comrades. Our man is Captain +Maitland." + +His words, and especially the name of the representative of the labour +unions produced an overwhelming effect upon the audience. No sooner had +he finished than the Reverend Murdo Matheson took the floor. He spoke no +economics. He offered no elaborate argument for peace. In plain, simple +words he told of experiences through which he had recently passed: + +"Like one whom I feel it an honour to call my father," he began, bowing +toward Dr. Templeton, "I, too, have made a visit this morning. Not to +a home, but to a place the most unlike a home of any spot in this sad +world, a jail. Seven of our fellow-citizens are confined there, six +of them boys, mere boys, dazed and penetrated with sorrow for their +folly--they meant no crime--I am not relieving them of the blame--the +other, a man, embittered with a long, hard fight against poverty, +injustice and cruel circumstance in another land, with distorted views +of life, crazed by drink, committed a crime which this morning fills him +with horror and grief. Late last night I was sent to the home of one of +my people. There I found an aged lady, carrying with a brave heart the +sorrows and burdens of nearly seventy years, waiting in anxiety and +grief and fear for her son, who was keeping vigil at what may well be +the deathbed of the girl he loves. You have just heard his plea for +peace. Some of you are inclined to lay the blame for the ills that have +fallen upon us upon certain classes and individuals in this community. +They have their blame and they must bear the responsibility. But, +gentlemen, a juster estimate of the causes of these ills will convince +us that they are the product of our civilisation and for these things +we must all accept our share of responsibility. More, we must seek to +remove them from among us. They are an affront to our intelligence, an +insult to our holy religion, an outrage upon the love of our brother man +and our Father, God. Let us humbly, resolutely seek the better way, +the way we have set before us this morning, the way of right doing, of +brotherly kindness and of brotherly love which is the way of peace." + +It was a subdued company of men that listened to his appeal. In silence +they sat looking straight before them with faces grave and frowning, as +is the way with men of our race when deeply stirred. + +It was a morning of dramatic surprises, but none were so startling, none +so dramatic as the speech of McGinnis that followed. + +"This is a day for confessions," he said, "and I am here to make one for +myself. I have been a fighter, too much of a fighter, all my life, and +I have often suffered for it. I suffered a heavy loss last night and +to-day I am sick of fighting. But I have found this: that you can't +fight men in this world without fighting women and children, too. God +knows I have no war with the old, grey-haired lady the Padre has just +told us about. I have no war with that broken-hearted father and mother. +And I have no war with Annette Perrotte, dear girl, God preserve her." +At this point, McGinnis's command quite forsook him. His voice utterly +broke down, while the tears ran down his rugged fighting face. "I am +done with fighting," he cried. "They have named Captain Maitland. We +know him for a straight man and a white man. Let me talk with Captain +Jack Maitland, and let us get together with the Padre there," pointing +to the Reverend Murdo Matheson, "and in an hour we will settle this +matter." + +In a tumult of approval the suggestion was accepted. It was considered +a perfectly fitting thing, though afterwards men spoke of it with +something of wonder, that the Mayor should have called upon the Reverend +Doctor to close the meeting with prayer, and that he should do so +without making a speech. + +That same afternoon the three men met to consider the matter submitted +to them. Captain Jack Maitland laid before the committee his figures and +his charts setting forth the facts in regard to the cost of living and +the wage scale during the past five years. In less than an hour they +had agreed upon a settlement. There was to be an increase of wages in +keeping with the rise of the cost of living, with the pledge that the +wage scale should follow the curb of the cost of living should any +change occur within the year. The hours of labour were shortened from +ten to nine for a day's work, with the pledge that they should be +governed by the effect of the change upon production and general +conditions. And further, that a Committee of Reference should be +appointed for each shop and craft, to which all differences should be +submitted. To this committee also were referred the other demands by the +Allied Unions. + +It was a simple solution of the difficulty and upon its submission to +the public meeting called for its consideration, it was felt that the +comment of the irrepressible Victor Forsythe was not entirely unfitting: + +"Of course!" said Victor, cheerfully. "It is the only thing. Why didn't +the Johnnies think of it before, or why didn't they ask me?" + +The committee, however, did more than settle the dispute immediately +before them. They laid before the public meeting and obtained its +approval for the creation of a General Board of Industry, under whose +guidance the whole question of the industrial life of the community +should be submitted to intelligent study and control. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +SHALL BE GIVEN + + +For one long week of seven long days and seven long nights Annette +fought out her gallant fight for life, fought and won. Throughout the +week at her side Adrien waited day and night, except for a few hours +snatched for rest, when Patricia took her place, for there was not a +nurse to be had in all that time and Patricia begged for the privilege +of sharing her vigil with her. + +Every day and in the darkest days all day long, it seemed to Adrien, +McNish haunted the Maitland home--for he had abandoned all pretence of +work--his gaunt, grey face and hollow eyes imploring a word of hope. + +But it was chiefly to Jack throughout that week that Adrien's heart +went out in compassionate pity, for in his face there dwelt a misery so +complete, so voiceless that no comfort of hers appeared to be able to +bring relief. Often through those days did Annette ask to see him, but +the old doctor was relentless. There must be absolute quiet and utter +absence of all excitement. No visitors were to be permitted, especially +no men visitors. + +But the day came when the ban was lifted and with smiling face, Adrien +came for Jack. + +"You have been such a good boy," she cried gaily, "that I am going to +give you a great treat. You are to come in with me." + +With face all alight Jack followed her into the sick room. + +"Here he is, Annette," cried Adrien. "Now, remember, no fussing, +no excitement, and just one quarter of an hour--or perhaps a little +longer," she added. + +For a moment or two Jack stood looking at the girl lying upon the bed. + +"Oh, Annette, my dear, dear girl," he cried in a breaking voice as he +knelt down by her side and took her hand in his. + +So much reached Adrien's ears as she closed the door and passed to her +room with step weary and lifeless. + +"Why, Adrien," cried her sister, who was waiting to relieve her, "you +are like a ghost! You poor dear. You are horribly done out." + +"I believe I am, Patricia," said Adrien. "I believe I shall rest +awhile." She lay down on the bed, her face turned toward the wall, and +so remained till Patricia went softly away, leaving her, as she thought, +to sleep. + +Downstairs Patricia found Victor Forsythe awaiting her. + +"Poor Adrien is really used up," she said. "She has a deathly look in +her face. Just the same look as she had that night of the hockey match. +Do you remember?" + +"The night of the hockey dance? Do I remember? A ghastly night--a horrid +night--a night of unspeakable wretchedness." + +As Vic was speaking, Patricia kept her eyes steadily upon him with a +pondering, puzzled look. + +"What is it, Patricia? I know you want to ask me something. Is it about +that night?" + +"I wonder if you would really mind very much, Vic, if I asked you?" + +"Not in the very least. I shall doubtless enjoy it after it's out. +Painless dentistry effect. Go to it, Patsy." + +"It is very serious, Vic. I always think people in books are so stupid. +They come near to the truth and then just miss getting it." + +"The truth. Ah! Go on, Pat." + +"Well, Vic," said Patricia with an air of one taking a desperate +venture, "why did you not give Adrien her note that night? It would have +saved her and me such pain. I cried all night long. I had so counted +on a dance with Jack--and then never a word from him. But he did send a +note. He told me so. I never told Adrien that, for she forbade me, oh, +so terribly, never to speak of it again. Why didn't you give her or me +the note, Vic?" Patricia's voice was very pathetic and her eyes very +gentle but very piercing. + +All the laughter died out of Victor's face. "Pat, I lied to you once, +only once, and that lie has cost me many an hour's misery. But now +I shall tell you the truth and the whole truth." And he proceeded to +recount the tribulations which he endured on the night of the hockey +dance. "I did it to help you both out, Pat. I thought I could make it +easy for you. It was all a sheer guess, but it turned out to be pretty +well right." + +Patricia nodded her head. "But you received no note?" + +"Not a scrap, Patricia, so help me. Not a scrap. Patricia, you believe +me?" + +The girl looked straight into Vic's honest eyes. "Yes, Vic," she said, +"I believe you. But Jack sent a note." + +Vic sprang to his feet. "Good-bye, Watson. You shall hear from me within +an hour." + +"Whatever do you mean? Where are you going?" + +"Dear lady, ask no questions. I am about to Sherlock. Farewell." + +At the door he overtook Jack. "Aha! The first link in the chain. Hello, +old chap, a word with you. May I get into your car?" + +"Certainly. Get in." + +"Now then, about that note. Nothing like diplomacy. The night of the +hockey dance you sent a note to a lady?" + +Jack glanced at him in amazement. + +"Don't be an ass, Vic. I don't feel like that stuff just now." + +"This is serious. Did you send a note by me that night of the hockey +dance?" + +"By you? No. Who said I did?" + +"Aha! The mystery deepens. By whom? Nothing like finesse." + +"It is none of your business," said Jack crossly. + +"Check," cried Vic. + +"What are you talking about, anyway?" inquired Jack. + +"A note was sent by you," said Vic impressively, "through some agency at +present unknown. So far, so good." + +"Unknown? What rubbish. I sent a note by Sam Wigglesworth, who gave it +to some of you for Adrien. What about it?" + +As they approached the entrance to the Maitland Mills Vic saw a stream +of employees issue from the gate. + +"Nothing more at present," he said. "This is my corner. Let me out. I am +in an awful hurry, Jack." + +"Will you tell me, please, what all this means?" said Jack angrily. + +"Sorry, old chap. Awfully hurried just now. See you later." + +"You are a vast idiot," grumbled Jack, as Vic ran down the street. + +He took his place at the corner which commanded the entrance to +the Maitland works. "Here I shall wait, abstractedly gazing at the +passers-by, until the unhappy Sam makes his appearance," mused Vic to +himself. "And by the powers, here Sam is now." + +From among the employees as they poured from the gate Victor pounced +upon his victim and bore him away down a side street. + +"Sam," he said, "it may be you are about to die, so tell me the truth. +I hate to take your young life." Sam grinned at his captor, unafraid. +"Cast your mind back to the occasion of the hockey dance. You remember +that?" + +"You bet I do, Mister. I made a dollar that night." + +"Ah! A dollar. Yes, you did, for delivering a note given you by Captain +Jack Maitland," hissed Vic, gripping his arm. + +"Huh-huh," said Sam. "Look out, Mister, that's me." + +"Villain!" cried Vic. "Boy, I mean. Now, Sam, did you deliver that +note?" + +"Of course I did. Didn't Captain Jack give me a dollar for it? I didn't +want his dollar." + +"The last question, Sam," said Vic solemnly, "to whom did you deliver +the note?" + +"To that chap, the son of the storekeeper." + +"Rupert Stillwell?" suggested Vic. + +"Huh-huh, that's his name. That's him now," cried Sam. "In that Hudson +car--see--there--quick!" + +"Boy," said Vic solemnly, "you have saved your life. Here's a dollar. +Now, remember, not a word about this." + +"All right, sir," grinned Sam delightedly, as he made off down the +street. + +"Now then, what?" said Vic to himself. "This thing has got past the joke +stage. I must do some thinking. Shall I tell Pat or not? By Jove, by +Jove, that's not the question. When that young lady gets those big eyes +of hers on me the truth will flow in a limpid stream. I must make sure +of my ground. Meantime I shall do the Kamerad act." + +That afternoon Annette had another visitor. Her nurse, though somewhat +dubious as to the wisdom of this indulgence, could not bring herself to +refuse her request that McNish should be allowed to see her. + +"But you must be tired. Didn't Jack tire you?" inquired Adrien. + +A soft and tender light stole into the girl's dark eyes. + +"Ah, Jack. He could not tire me," she murmured. "He makes so much of +what I did. How gladly would I do it again. Jack is wonderful to me. +Wonderful to me," she repeated softly. Her lip trembled and she lay back +upon her pillow and from her closed eyes two tears ran down her cheek. + +"Now," said Adrien briskly, "you are too tired. We shall wait till +to-morrow." + +"No, no, please," cried Annette. "Jack didn't tire me. He comforts me." + +"But Malcolm will tire you," said Adrien. "Do you really want to see +him?" + +A faint colour came up into the beautiful face of her patient. + +"Yes, Adrien, I really want to see him. I am sure he will do me good. +You will let him come, please?" The dark eyes were shining with another +light, more wistful, more tender. + +"Is he here, Adrien?" + +"Is he here?" echoed Adrien scornfully. "Has he been anywhere else the +last seven days?" + +"Poor Malcolm," said the girl, the tenderness in her voice becoming +protective. "I have been very bad to him, and he loves me so. Oh, he is +just mad about me!" A little smile stole round the corners of her mouth. + +"Oh, you needn't tell me that, Annette," said Adrien. "It is easy for +you to make men mad about you." + +"Not many," said the girl, still softly smiling. + +McNish went toward the door of the sick room as if approaching a holy +shrine, walking softly and reverently. + +"Go in, lucky man," said Adrien. "Go in, and thank God for your good +fortune." + +He paused at the door, turned about and looked at her with grave eyes. +"Miss Templeton," he said in slow, reverent tones, "all my life shall I +thank God for His great mercy tae me." + +"Don't keep her waiting, man," said Adrien, waving him in. Then McNish +went in and she closed the door softly upon them. + +"There are only a few great moments given to men," she said, "and this +is one of them for those two happy people." + +In ten days Annette was pronounced quite fit to return to her family. +But Patricia resolved that they should have a grand fete in the Maitland +home before Annette should leave it. She planned a motor drive in the +cool of the day, and in the evening all their special friends who had +been brought together through the tragic events of the past weeks should +come to bring congratulations and mutual felicitations for the recovery +of the patient. + +Patricia was arranging the guest list, in collaboration with Mr. +Maitland and the assistance of Annette and Victor. + +"We will have our boys, of course," she began. + +"Old and young, I hope?" suggested Mr. Maitland. + +"Of course!" she cried. "Although I don't know any old ones. That will +mean all the fathers and Vic, Jack, Hugh and Rupert, and Malcolm--" + +"Ah! It has come to Malcolm, then?" murmured Vic. "Certainly, why not? +He loves me to call him Malcolm. And then we will have Mr. Matheson. And +we must have Mr. McGinnis--they have become such great friends. And I +should like to have the Mayor, he is so funny. But perhaps he wouldn't +fit. He DOES take up a lot of attention." + +"Cut him out!" said Victor with decision. + +"And for ladies," continued Patricia, "just the relatives--all the +mothers and the sisters. That's enough." + +"How lovely!" murmured Vic. + +"Oh, if you want any other ladies, Vic," said Patricia severely, "we +shall be delighted to invite them for you." + +"Me? Other ladies? What could I do with other ladies? Is not my young +life one long problem as it is? Ah! Speaking of problems, that reminds +me. I have a communication to make to you young lady." Vic's manner +suggested a profound and deadly mystery. He led Patricia away from the +others. "I have something to tell you, Patricia," he said, abandoning +all badinage. "I hate to do it but it is right for you, for myself, for +Adrien, and by Jove for poor old Jack, too. Though, perhaps--well, let +that go." + +"Oh, Vic!" cried Patricia. "It is about the note!" + +"Yes, Patricia. That note was given by Jack to Sam Wigglesworth, who +gave it to Rupert Stillwell." + +"And he forgot?" gasped Patricia. + +"Ah--ah--at least, he didn't deliver it. No, Patricia, we are telling +the whole truth. He didn't forget. You remember he asked about Jack. +There, I have given you all I know. Make of it what you like." + +"Shall I tell Adrien?" asked Patricia. + +"I think certainly Adrien ought to know." + +"Then I'll tell her to-night," said Patricia. "I want it all over before +our fete, which is day after to-morrow." + +Rupert Stillwell had been in almost daily attendance upon Adrien during +the past two weeks, calling for her almost every afternoon with his car. +The day following he came for her according to his custom. Upon Adrien's +face there dwelt a gentle, tender, happy look as if her heart were +singing for very joy. That look upon her face drove from Rupert all the +hesitation and fear which had fallen upon him during these days of her +ministry to the wounded girl. He took a sudden and desperate resolve +that he would put his fate to the test. + +Adrien's answer was short and decisive. + +"No, Rupert," she said. "I cannot. I thought for a little while, long +ago, that perhaps I might, but now I know that I never could have loved +you." + +"You were thinking of that note of Jack Maitland's which I sent you last +night?" + +"Oh, no," she said gently. "Not that." + +"I felt awfully mean about that, Adrien. I feel mean still. I thought +that as you had learned all about it from Victor, it was of no +importance." + +"Yes," she replied gently, "but I was the best judge of that." + +"Adrien, tell me," Rupert's voice shook with the intensity of his +passion, "is there no hope?" + +"No," she said, "there is no hope, Rupert." + +"There is someone else," he said, savagely. + +"Yes," she said, happily, "I think so." + +"Someone," continued Rupert, his voice trembling with rage, "someone who +distributes his affections." + +"No," she said, a happy smile in her eyes, "I think not." + +"You love him?" he asked. + +"Oh, yes," she whispered, with a little catch in her breath, "I love +him." + +At the door on their return Jack met them. A shadow fell upon his face, +but with a quick resolve, he shouted a loud welcome to them. + +"Hello, Adrien," he cried, as she came running up the steps. "You +apparently have had a lovely drive." + +"Oh, wonderful, Jack. A wonderful drive," she replied. + +"Yes, you do look happy." + +"Oh, so happy. I was never so happy." + +"Then," said Jack, dropping his voice, "may I congratulate you?" + +"Yes, I think so," she said. "I hope so." And then laughed aloud for +very glee. + +Jack turned from her with a quick sharp movement, went down the steps +and offering his hand to Rupert, said: + +"Good luck, old chap. I wish you good luck." + +"Eh? What? Oh, all right," said Rupert in a dazed sort of way. But he +didn't come into the house. + +Never was there such a day in June, never such a fete. The park never +looked so lovely and never a party so gay disported themselves in it +and gayest of them all was Adrien. All day long it seemed as if her very +soul were laughing for joy. And all day long she kept close beside +Jack, chaffing him, laughing at him, rallying him on his solemn face and +driving him half-mad with her gay witchery. + +Then home they all came to supper, where waited them McNish and his +mother with Mr. McGinnis, for they had been unable to join in the motor +drive. + +"Ma certie, lassie! But ye're a sight for sare een. What hae ye bin +daein tae her, Mr. Jack," said Mrs. McNish, as she welcomed them at the +door. + +"The Lord only knows," said Jack. + +"But, man, look at her!" exclaimed the old lady. + +"I have been, all day long," replied Jack with a gallant attempt at +gaiety. + +"Oh, Mrs. McNish," cried the girl, rippling with joyous laughter, +"he won't even look at me. He just--what do you say--glowers, that's +it--glowers at me. And we have had such a wonderful day. Come, Jack, get +yourself ready for supper. You have only a few minutes." + +She caught her arm through his and laughing shamelessly into his eyes, +drew him away. + +"I say, Adrien," said Jack, driven finally to desperation and drawing +her into the quiet of the library, "I am awfully glad you are so happy +and all that, but I don't see the necessity of rubbing it into a fellow. +You know how I feel. I am glad for you and--I am glad for Rupert. Or, at +least I told him so." + +"But, Jack," said the girl, her eyes burning with a deep inner glow, +"Rupert has nothing to do with it. Rupert, indeed," and she laughed +scornfully. "Oh, Jack, why can't you see?" + +"See what?" he said crossly. + +"Jack," she said softly, turning toward him and standing very near him, +"you remember the note you sent me?" + +"Note?" + +"The note you sent the night of the hockey dance?" + +"Yes," said Jack bitterly, "I remember." + +"And you remember, too, how horrid I was to you the next time I saw you? +How horrid? Oh, Jack, it broke my heart." Her voice faltered a moment +and her shining eyes grew dim. "I was so horrid to you." + +"Oh, no," said Jack coolly, "you were kind. You were very kind and +sisterly, as I remember." + +"Jack," she said and her breath began to come hurriedly, "I got that +note yesterday. Only yesterday, Jack." + +"Yesterday?" + +"Yes, only yesterday. And I read it, Jack," she added with a happy +laugh. "And in that note, Jack, you said--do you remember--" + +But Jack stood gazing stupidly at her. She pulled the note from her +bosom. + +"Oh, Jack, you said--" + +Still Jack gazed at her. + +"Jack, you will kill me. Won't you hurry? Oh, I can't wait a moment +longer. You said you were going to tell me something, Jack." She stood +radiant, breathless and madly alluring. "And oh, Jack, won't you tell +me?" + +"Adrien," said Jack, his voice husky and uncontrolled. "Do you mean that +you--" + +"Oh, Jack, tell me quick," she said, swaying toward him. And while she +clung to him taking his kisses on her lips, Jack told her. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of To Him That Hath, by Ralph Connor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO HIM THAT HATH *** + +***** This file should be named 3244.txt or 3244.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/3244/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com. + + + + + +TO HIM THAT HATH + +A NOVEL OF THE WEST OF TODAY + + +by RALPH CONNOR + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + +I THE GAME + +II THE COST OF SACRIFICE + +III THE HEATHEN QUEST + +IV ANNETTE + +V THE RECTORY + +VI THE GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE + +VII THE FOREMAN + +VIII FREE SPEECH + +IX THE DAY BEFORE + +X THE NIGHT OF VICTORY + +XI THE NEW MANAGER + +XII LIGHT THAT IS DARKNESS + +XIII THE STRIKE + +XIV GATHERING CLOUDS + +XV THE STORM + +XVI A GALLANT FIGHT + +XVII SHALL BE GIVEN + + + + +TO HIM THAT HATH + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE GAME + + +"Forty-Love." + +"Game! and Set. Six to two." + +A ripple of cheers ran round the court, followed by a buzz of +excited conversation. + +The young men smiled at each other and at their friends on the side +lines and proceeded to change courts for the next set, pausing for +refreshments on the way. + +"Much too lazy, Captain Jack. I am quite out of patience with +you," cried a young girl whose brown eyes were dancing with mock +indignation. + +Captain Jack turned with a slightly bored look on his thin dark +face. + +"Too lazy, Frances?" drawled he. "I believe you. But think of the +temperature." + +"You have humiliated me dreadfully," she said severely. + +"Humiliated you? You shock me. But how, pray?" Captain Jack's +eyes opened wide. + +"You, a Canadian, and our best player--at least, you used to be--to +allow yourself to be beaten by a--a--" she glanced at his opponent +with a defiant smile--"a foreigner." + +"Oh! I say, Miss Frances," exclaimed that young man. + +"A foreigner?" exclaimed Captain Jack. "Better not let Adrien hear +you." He turned toward a tall fair girl standing near. + +"What's that?" said the girl. "Did I hear aright?" + +"Well, he's not a Canadian, I mean," said Frances, sticking to her +guns. "Besides, I can't stand Adrien crowing over me. She is +already far too English, don-che-know. You have given her one more +occasion for triumph over us Colonials." + +"Ah, this is serious," said Captain Jack. "But really it is too +hot you know for--what shall I say?--International complications." + +"Jack, you are plain lazy," said Frances. "You know you are. You +don't deserve to win, but if you really would put your back into +it--" + +"Oh, come, Frances. Why! You don't know that my cousin played for +his College at Oxford. And that is saying something," said Adrien. + +"There you are, Jack! That's the sort of thing I have to live +with," said Frances. "She thinks that settles everything." + +"Well, doesn't it rather?" smiled Adrien. + +"Oh, Jack, if you have any regard for your country, not to say my +unworthy self, won't you humble her?" implored Frances. "If you +would only buck up!" + +"He will need to, eh, Adrien?" said a young fellow standing near, +slowly sipping his drink. + +"I think so. Indeed, I am quite sure of it," coolly replied the +girl addressed. "But I really think it is quite useless." + +"Ha! Ha! Cheer up, Jack," laughed the young man, Stillwell by +name. + +"Really, old chap, I feel I must beat you this set," said Captain +Jack to the young Englishman. "My country's credit as well as my +own is at stake, you see." + +"Both are fairly assured, I should say," said the Englishman. + +"Not to-day," said Stillwell, with a suspicion of a polite sneer in +his voice. "My money says so." + +"Canada vs. the Old Country!" cried a voice from the company. + +"Now, Jack, Jack, remember," implored Frances. + +"You have no mercy, Miss Frances, I see," said the Englishman, +looking straight into her eyes. + +"Absolutely none," she replied, smiling saucily at him. + +"Vae victis, eh, old chap?" said Sidney, as they sauntered off +together to their respective courts. "By the way, who is that +Stillwell chap?" he asked in a low voice of Captain Jack as they +moved away from the others. "Of any particular importance?" + +"I think you've got him all right," replied Jack carelessly. The +Englishman nodded. + +"He somehow gets my goat," said Jack. The Englishman looked +mystified. + +"Rubs me the wrong way, you know." + +"Oh, very good, very good. I must remember that." + +"He rather fancies his own game, too," said Jack, "and he has come +on the last year or two. In more ways than one," he added as an +afterthought. + +As they faced each other on the court it was Stillwell's voice that +rang out: + +"Now then, England!" + +"Canada!" cried a girl's voice that was easily recognised as that +of Frances Amory. + +"Thumbs down, eh, Maitland?" said the Englishman, waving a hand +toward his charming enemy. + +Whatever the cause, whether from the spur supplied by the young +lady who had constituted herself his champion or from the sting +from the man for whom for reasons sufficient for himself he had +only feelings of hostility and dislike, the game put up by Captain +Jack was of quite a different brand from that he had previously +furnished. From the first service he took the offensive and +throughout played brilliant, aggressive, even smashing tennis, so +much so that his opponent appeared to be almost outclassed and at +the close the figures of the first set were exactly reversed, +standing six to two in Captain Jack's favour. + +The warmth of the cheers that followed attested the popularity of +the win. + +"My word, old chap, that is top-hole tennis," said the Englishman, +warmly congratulating him. + +"Luck, old boy, brilliant luck!" said Captain Jack. "Couldn't do +it again for a bet." + +"You must do it just once more," said Frances, coming to meet the +players. "Oh, you dear old thing. Come and be refreshed. Here is +the longest, coolest thing in drinks this Club affords. And one +for you, too," she added, turning to the Englishman. "You played a +great game." + +"Did I not? I was at the top of my form," said the Englishman +gallantly. "But all in vain, as you see." + +"Now for the final," cried Frances eagerly. + +"Dear lady," said Captain Jack, affecting supreme exhaustion, "as +you are mighty, be merciful! Let it suffice that we appear to have +given you an exposition of fairly respectable tennis. I am quite +done." + +"A great win, Jack," said Adrien, offering her hand in +congratulation. + +"All flukes count, eh, Maitland?" laughed Stillwell, unable in +spite of his laugh to keep the bite out of his voice. + +"Fluke?" exclaimed the Englishman in a slow drawling voice. "I +call it ripping good tennis, if I am a judge." + +A murmur of approval ran through the company, crowding about with +congratulations to both players. + +"Oh, of course, of course," said Stillwell, noting the criticism of +his unsportsmanlike remark. "What I mean is, Maitland is clearly +out of condition. If he were not I wouldn't mind taking him on +myself," he added with another laugh. + +"Now, do you mean?" said Captain Jack lazily. + +"We will wait till the match is played out," said Stillwell with +easy confidence. "Some other day, when you are in shape, eh?" he +added, smiling at Maitland. + +"Now if you like, or after the match, or any old time," said +Captain Jack, looking at Stillwell with hard grey, unsmiling eyes. +"I understand you have come up on your game during the war." + +Stillwell's face burned a furious red at the little laugh that went +round among Captain Jack's friends. + +"Frankly, I have had enough for to-day," said the Englishman to +Jack. + +"All right, old chap, if you don't really mind. Though I feel you +would certainly take the odd set." + +"Not a bit of it, by Jove. I am quite satisfied to let it go at +that. We will have another go some time." + +"Any time that suits you--to-morrow, eh?" + +"To-morrow be it," said the Englishman. + +"Now, then, Stillwell," said Captain Jack, with a curt nod at him. +"Whenever you are ready." + +"Oh, come, Maitland. I was only joshing, you know. You don't want +to play with me to-day," said Stillwell, not relishing the look on +Maitland's face. "We can have a set any time." + +"No!" said Maitland shortly. "It's now or never." + +"Oh, all right," said Stillwell, with an uneasy laugh, going into +the Club house for his racquet. + +The proposed match had brought a new atmosphere into the Club +house, an atmosphere of contest with all the fun left out. + +"I don't like this at all," said a man with iron grey hair and +deeply tanned face. + +"One can't well object, Russell," said a younger man, evidently a +friend of Stillwell's. "Maitland brought it on, and I hope he gets +mighty well trimmed. He is altogether too high and mighty these +days." + +"Oh, I don't agree with you at all," broke in Frances, in a voice +coldly proper. "You heard what Mr. Stillwell said?" + +"Well, not exactly." + +"Ah, I might have guessed you had not," answered the young lady, +turning away. + +Edwards looked foolishly round upon the circle of men who stood +grinning at him. + +"Now will you be good?" said a youngster who had led the laugh at +Edwards' expense. + +"What the devil are you laughing at, Menzies?" he asked hotly. + +"Why, don't you see the joke?" enquired Menzies innocently. "Well, +carry on! You will to-morrow." + +Edwards growled out an oath and took himself off. + +Meantime the match was making furious progress, with the fury, it +must be confessed, confined to one side only of the net. Captain +Jack was playing a driving, ruthless game, snatching and employing +without mercy every advantage that he could legitimately claim. He +delivered his service with deadly precision, following up at the +net with a smashing return, which left his opponent helpless. His +aggressive tactics gave his opponent almost no opportunity to +score, and he kept the pace going at the height of his speed. The +onlookers were divided in their sentiments. Stillwell had a strong +following of his own who expressed their feelings by their silence +at Jack's brilliant strokes and their loud approval of Stillwell's +good work when he gave them opportunity, while many of Maitland's +friends deprecated his tactics and more especially his spirit. + +At whirlwind pace Captain Jack made the first three games a "love" +score, leaving his opponent dazed, bewildered with his smashing +play and blind with rage at his contemptuous bearing. + +"I think I must go home, Frances," said Adrien to her friend, her +face pale, her head carried high. + +Frances seized her by the arm and drew her to one side. + +"Adrien, you must not go! You simply must not!" she said in a low +tense voice. "It will be misunderstood, and--" + +"I am going, Frances," said her friend in a cold, clear voice. "I +have had enough tennis for this afternoon. Where is Sidney? Ah, +there he is across the court. No! Let me go, Frances!" + +"You simply must not go like that in the middle of a game, Adrien. +Wait at least till this game is over," said her friend, clutching +hard at her arm. + +"Very well. Let us go to Sidney," said Adrien. + +Together they made their way round the court almost wholly +unobserved, so intent was the crowd upon the struggle going on +before them. As the game finished Adrien laid her hand upon her +cousin's arm. + +"Haven't you had enough of this?" she said. Her voice carried +clear across the court. + +"What d'ye say? By Jove, no!" said her cousin in a joyous voice. +"This is the most cheering thing I've seen for many moons, Adrien. +Eh, what? Oh, I beg pardon, are you seedy?" he added glancing at +her. "Oh, certainly, I'll come at once." + +"Not at all. Don't think of it. I have a call to make on my way +home. Please don't come." + +"But, Adrien, I say, this will be over now in a few minutes. Can't +you really wait?" + +"No, I am not in the least interested in this--this kind of +tennis," she said in a bored voice. + +Her tone, pitched rather higher than usual, carried to the ears of +the players who were changing ends at the moment. Both of the men +glanced at her. Stillwell's face showed swift gratitude. On +Jack's face the shadow darkened but except for a slight +straightening of the line of his lips he gave no sign. + +"You are quite sure you don't care?" said Sidney. "You don't want +me? This really is great, you know." + +"Not for worlds would I drag you away," said Adrien in a cool, +clear voice. "Frances will keep you company." She turned to her +friend. "Look after him, Frances," she said. "Good-bye. Dinner +at seven to-night, you know." + +"Right-o!" said Sidney, raising his hat in farewell. "By Jove, I +wouldn't miss this for millions," he continued, making room for +Frances beside him. "Your young friend is really somewhat violent +in his style, eh, what?" + +"There are times when violence is the only possible thing," replied +Frances grimly. + +"By the way, who is the victim? I mean, what is he exactly?" + +"Mr. Stillwell? Oh, he is the son of his father, the biggest +merchant in Blackwater. Oh, lovely! Beautiful return! Jack is +simply away above his form! And something of a merchant and +financier on his own account, to be quite fair. Making money fast +and using it wisely. But I'm not going to talk about him. You see +a lot of him about the Rectory, don't you?" + +"Well, something," replied Sidney. "I can't quite understand the +situation, I confess. To be quite frank, I don't cotton much to +him. A bit sweetish, eh, what?" + +"Yes, at the Rectory doubtless. I would hardly attribute to him a +sweet disposition. Oh, quit talking about him. He had flat feet +in the war, I think it was. Jack's twin brother was killed, you +know--and mine--well, you know how mine is." + +A swift vision of a bright-faced, cheery-voiced soldier, feeling +his way around a darkened room in the Amory home, leaped to +Sidney's mind and overwhelmed him with pity and self-reproach. + +"Dear Miss Frances, will you forgive me? I hadn't quite got on to +the thing. I understand the game better now." + +"Now, I don't want to poison your mind. I shouldn't have said +that--about the flat feet, I mean. He goes to the Rectory, you +know. I want to be fair--" + +"Please don't worry. We know all about that sort at home," said +Sidney, touching her hand for a moment. "My word, that was a hot +one! The flat-footed Johnnie is obviously bewildered. The last +game was sheer massacre, eh, what?" + +If Maitland was not in form there was no sign of it in his work on +the court. There was little of courtesy, less of fun and nothing +at all of mercy in his play. From first to last and without +reprieve he drove his game ruthlessly to a finish. So terrific, so +resistless were his attacks, so coldly relentless the spirit he +showed, ignoring utterly all attempts at friendly exchange of +courtesy, that the unhappy and enraged Stillwell, becoming utterly +demoralized, lost his nerve, lost his control and hopelessly lost +every chance he ever possessed of winning a single game of the set +which closed with the score six to nothing. + +At the conclusion of the set Stillwell, with no pretense of +explanation or apology, left the courts to his enemy who stood +waiting his appearance in a silence so oppressive that it seemed +to rest like a pall upon the side lines. So overwhelming was +Stillwell's defeat, so humiliating his exhibition of total collapse +of morale that the company received the result with but slight +manifestation of feeling. Without any show of sympathy even his +friends slipped away, as if unwilling to add to his humiliation by +their commiseration. On the other side, the congratulations +offered Maitland were for the most part lacking in the spontaneity +that is supposed to be proper to such a smashing victory. Some of +his friends seemed to feel as if they had been called upon to +witness an unworthy thing. Not so, however, with either Frances +Amory or Sidney Templeton. Both greeted Captain Jack with +enthusiasm and warmth, openly and freely rejoicing in his victory. + +"By Jove, Maitland, that was tremendous, appalling, eh, what?" + +"I meant it to be so," said Maitland grimly, "else I should not +have played with him." + +"It was coming to him," said Frances. "I am simply completely +delighted." + +"Can I give you a lift home, Frances?" said Maitland. "Let us get +away. You, too, Templeton," he added to Sidney, who was lingering +near the young lady in obvious unwillingness to leave her side. + +"Oh, thanks! Sure you have room?" he said. "All right. You know +my cousin left me in your care." + +"Oh, indeed! Well, come along then, since our hero is so good. +Really, I am uplifted to quite an unusual height of glorious +exultation." + +"Don't rub it in, Frank," said Jack gloomily. "I made an ass of +myself, I know quite well." + +"What rot, Jack. Every one of your friends was tickled to death." + +"Adrien, for instance, eh?" said Jack with a bitter little laugh, +taking his place at the wheel. + +"Oh, Adrien!" replied Frances. "Well, you know Adrien! She is-- +just Adrien." + +As he turned into the street there was a sound of rushing feet. + +"Hello, Captain Jack! Oh, Captain Jack! Wait for me! You have +room, haven't you?" + +A whirlwind of flashing legs and windblown masses of gold-red hair, +which realised itself into a young girl of about sixteen, bore down +on the car. It was Adrien's younger sister, Patricia, and at once +her pride and her terror. + +"Why, Patsy, where on earth did you come from? Of course! Get in! +Glad to have you, old chap." + +"Oh, Captain Jack, what a game! What a wonderful game! And Rupert +has been playing all summer and awfully well! And you have hardly +played a game! I was awfully pleased--" + +"Were you? I'm not sure that I was," replied Captain Jack. + +"Well, you WERE savage, you know. You looked as if you were in a +fight." + +"Did I? That was very rotten of me, wasn't it?" + +"Oh, I don't know exactly. But it was a wonderful game. Of +course, one doesn't play tennis like a fight, I suppose." + +"No! You are quite right, Pat," replied Captain Jack. "You see, +I'm afraid I lost my temper a bit, which is horribly bad form I +know, and--well, I wanted to fight rather than play, and of course +one couldn't fight on the tennis court in the presence of a lot of +ladies, you see." + +"Well, I'm glad you didn't fight, Captain Jack. You have had +enough of fighting, haven't you? And Rupert is really very nice, +you know. He has a wonderful car and he lets me drive it, and he +always brings a box of chocolates every time he comes." + +"He must be perfectly lovely," said Captain Jack, with a grin at +her. + +The girl laughed a laugh of such infectious jollity that Captain +Jack was forced to join with her. + +"That's one for you, Captain Jack," she cried. "I know I am a pig +where chocs are concerned, and I do love to drive a car. But, +really, Rupert is quite nice. He is so funny. He makes Mamma +laugh. Though he does tease me a lot." + +Captain Jack drove on in silence for some moments. + +"I was glad to see you playing though to-day, Captain Jack." + +"Where were you? I didn't see you anywhere." + +"Not likely!" She glanced behind her at the others in the back +seat. She need not have given them a thought, they were too deeply +engrossed to heed her. "Do you know where I was? In the crutch of +the big elm--you know!" + +"Don't I!" said Captain Jack. "A splendid seat, but--" + +"Wouldn't Adrien be shocked?" said the girl, with a deliciously +mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Or, at least, she would pretend +to be. Adrien thinks she must train me down a bit, you know. She +says I have most awful manners. She wants Mamma to send me over to +England to her school. But I don't want to go, you bet. Besides, +I don't think Dad can afford it so they can't send me. Anyway, I +could have good manners if I wanted to. I could act just like +Adrien if I wanted to--I mean, for a while. But that was a real +game. I felt sorry for Rupert, a little. You see, he didn't seem +to know what to do or how to begin. And you looked so terrible! +Now in the game with Cousin Sidney you were so different, and you +played so awfully well, too, but differently. Somehow, it was just +like gentlemen playing, you know--" + +"You have hit it, Patsy,--a regular bull!" said Captain Jack. + +"Oh, I don't mean--" began the girl in confusion, rare with her. + +"Yes, you do, Pat. Stick to your guns." + +"Well, I will. The first game everybody loved to watch. The +second game--somehow it made me wish Rupert had been a Hun. I'd +have loved it then." + +"By Jove, Patsy, you're right on the target. You've scored again." + +"Oh, I'm not saying just what I want--but I hope you know what I +mean." + +"Your meaning hits me right in the eye. And you are quite right. +The tennis court is no place for a fight, eh? And, after all, +Rupert Stillwell is no Hun." + +"But you haven't been playing this summer at all, Captain Jack," +said the girl, changing the subject. "Why not?" The girl's tone +was quite severe. "And you don't do a lot of things you used to +do, and you don't go to places, and you are different." The blue +eyes earnestly searched his face. + +"Am I different?" he asked slowly. "Well, everybody is different. +And then, you know, I am busy. A business man has his hours and he +must stick to them." + +"Oh, I don't believe you a bit. You don't need to be down at the +mills all the time. Look at Rupert. He doesn't need to be at his +father's office." + +"Apparently not." + +"He gets off whenever he wants to." + +"Looks like it." + +"And why can't you?" + +"Well, you see, I am not Rupert," said Captain Jack, grinning at +her. + +"Now you are horrible. Why don't you do as you used to do? You +know you could if you wanted to." + +"Yes, I suppose, if I wanted to," said Captain Jack, suddenly +grave. + +"You don't want to," said the girl, quick to catch his mood. + +"Well, you know, Patsy dear, things are different, and I suppose I +am too. I don't care much for a lot of things." + +"You just look as if you didn't care for anything or anybody +sometimes, Captain Jack," said Patricia quietly. Then after a few +moments she burst forth: "Oh, don't you remember your hockey team? +Oh! oh! oh! I used to sit and just hold my heart from jumping. It +nearly used to choke me when you would tear down the ice with the +puck." + +"That was long ago, Pat dear. I guess I was--ah--very young then, +eh?" + +"Yes, I know," nodded the girl. "I feel the same way--I was just a +kid then." + +"Ah, yes," said Captain Jack, with never a smile. "You were just-- +let's see--twelve, was it?" + +"Yes, twelve. And I felt just a kid." + +"And now?" Captain Jack's voice was quite grave. + +"Now? Well, I am not exactly a kid. At least, not the same kind +of kid. And, as you say, a lot of things are different. I think I +know how you feel. I was like that, too--after--after--Herbert--" +The girl paused, with her lips quivering. "It was all different-- +so different. Everything we used to do, I didn't feel like doing. +And I suppose that's the way with you, Captain Jack, with Andy--and +then your Mother, too." She leaned close to him and put her hand +timidly on his arm. + +Captain Jack, sitting up very straight and looking very grave, felt +the thrill of the timid touch run through his very heart. A rush +of warm, tender emotion such as he had not allowed himself for many +months suddenly surprised him, filling his eyes and choking his +throat. Since his return from the war he had without knowledge +been yearning for just such an understanding touch as this child +with her womanly instinct had given him. He withdrew one hand from +the wheel and took the warm clinging fingers tight in his and +waited in silence till he was sure of himself. He drove some +blocks before he was quite master of his voice. Then, releasing +the fingers, he turned his face toward the girl. + +"You are a real pal, aren't you, Patsy old girl?" he said with a +very bright smile at her. + +"I want to be! Oh, I would love to be!" she said, with a swift +intake of breath. "And after a while you will be just as you were +before you went away." + +"Hardly, I fear, Patsy." + +"Well, not the same, but different from what you are now. No, I +don't mean that a bit, Captain Jack. But perhaps you know--I do +want to see you on the ice again. Oh, it would be wonderful! Of +course, the old team wouldn't be there--Herbert and Phil and Andy. +Why! You are the only one left! And Rupert." She added the name +doubtfully. "It WOULD be different! oh, so different! Oh! I don't +wonder you don't care, Captain Jack. I won't wonder--" There was +a little choke in the young voice. "I see it now--" + +"I think you understand, Patsy, and you are a little brick," said +Captain Jack in a low, hurried tone. "And I am going to try. +Anyway, whatever happens, we will be pals." + +The girl caught his arm tight in her clasped hands and in a low +voice she said, "Always and always, Captain Jack, and evermore." +And till they drew up at the Rectory door no more was said. + +Maitland drove homeward through the mellow autumn evening with a +warmer, kindlier glow in his heart than he had known through all +the dreary weeks that had followed his return from the war. For +the war had wrought desolation for him in a home once rich in the +things that make life worth while, by taking from it his mother, +whose rare soul qualities had won and held through her life the +love, the passionate, adoring love of her sons, and his twin +brother, the comrade, chum, friend of all his days, with whose life +his own had grown into a complete and ideal unity, deprived of whom +his life was left like a body from whose raw and quivering flesh +one-half had been torn away. + +The war had left his life otherwise bruised and maimed in ways +known only to himself. + +Returning thus from his soul-devastating experience of war to find +his life desolate and maimed in all that gave it value, he made the +appalling discovery that he was left almost alone of all whom he +had known and loved in past days. For of his close friends none +were left as before. For the most part they were lying on one or +other of the five battle fronts of the war. Others had found +service in other spheres. Only one was still in his home town, +poor old Phil Amory, Frances' brother, half-blind in his darkened +room, but to bring anything of his own heart burden to that brave +soul seemed sacrilege or worse. True enough, he was passing +through the new and thrilling experience of making acquaintance +with his father. But old Grant Maitland was a hard man to know, +and they were too much alike in their reserve and in their poverty +of self-expression to make mutual acquaintance anything but a slow +and in some ways a painful process. + +Hence in Maitland's heart there was an almost extravagant gratitude +toward this young generous-hearted girl whose touch had thrilled +his heart and whose voice with its passionate note of loyal and +understanding comradeship still sang like music in his soul, +"Always and always, Captain Jack, and evermore." + +"By Jove, I have got to find some way of playing up to that," he +said aloud, as he turned from the gravelled driveway into the +street. And in the months that followed he was to find that the +search to which he then committed himself was to call for the +utmost of the powers of soul which were his. + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE COST OF SACRIFICE + + +Perrotte was by all odds the best all-round man in the planing +mill, and for the simple reason that for fifteen years he had +followed the lumber from the raw wood through the various machines +till he knew woods and machines and their ways as no other in the +mill unless it was old Grant Maitland himself. Fifteen years ago +Perrotte had drifted down from the woods, beating his way on a +lumber train, having left his winter's pay behind him at the verge +of civilisation, with old Joe Barbeau and Joe's "chucker out." It +was the "chucker out" that dragged him out of the "snake room" and, +all unwitting, had given him a flying start toward a better life. +Perrotte came to Maitland when the season's work was at its height +and every saw and planer were roaring night and day. + +"Want a job?" Maitland had shouted over the tearing saw at him. +"What can you do?" + +"(H)axe-man me," growled Perrotte, looking up at him, half wistful, +half sullen. + +"See that slab? Grab it, pile it yonder. The boards, slide over +the shoot." For these were still primitive days for labor-saving +devices, and men were still the cheapest thing about a mill. + +Perrotte grabbed the slab, heaved it down to its pile of waste, the +next board he slid into the shoot, and so continued till noon found +him pale and staggering. + +"What's the matter with you?" said Maitland. + +"Notting--me bon," said Perrotte, and, clutching at the door jamb, +hung there gasping. + +Maitland's keen blue eyes searched his face. "Huh! When did you +last eat? Come! No lying!" + +"Two day," said Perrotte, fighting for breath and nerve. + +"Here, boy," shouted Maitland to a chore lad slouching by, "jump +for that cook house and fetch a cup of coffee, and be quick." + +The boss' tone injected energy into the gawky lad. In three +minutes Perrotte was seated on a pile of slabs, drinking a cup of +coffee; in five minutes more he stood up, ready for "(h)anny man, +(h)anny ting." But Maitland took him to the cook. + +"Fill this man up," he said, "and then show him where to sleep. +And, Perrotte, to-morrow morning at seven you be at the tail of the +saw." + +"Oui, by gar! Perrotte be dere. And you got one good man TOO-day, +for sure." + +That was fifteen years ago, and, barring certain "jubilations," +Perrotte made good his prophecy. He brought up from the Ottawa his +Irish wife, a clever woman with her tongue but a housekeeper that +scandalised her thrifty, tidy, French-Canadian mother-in-law, and +his two children, a boy and a girl. Under the supervision of his +boss he made for his family a home and for himself an assured place +in the Blackwater Mills. His children fell into the hands of a +teacher with a true vocation for his great work and a passion for +young life. Under his hand the youth of the rapidly growing mill +village were saved from the sordid and soul-debasing influences of +their environment, were led out of the muddy streets and can-strewn +back yards to those far heights where dwell the high gods of poesy +and romance. From the master, too, they learned to know their own +wonderful woods out of which the near-by farms had been hewn. Many +a home, too, owed its bookshelf to Alex Day's unobtrusive +suggestions. + +The Perrotte children were prepared for High School by the master's +quiet but determined persistence. To the father he held up the +utilitarian advantages of an education. + +"Your boy is quick--why should not Tony be a master of men some +day? Give him a chance to climb." + +"Oui, by gar! Antoine he's smart lee'le feller. I mak him steeck +on his book, you mak him one big boss on some mill." + +To the mother the master spoke of social advantages. The empty- +headed Irish woman who had all the quick wit and cleverness of +tongue characteristic of her race was determined that her girl +Annette should learn to be as stylish as "them that tho't +themselves her betters." So the children were kept at school by +their fondly ambitious parents, and the master did the rest. + +At the Public School, that greatest of all democratic institutions, +the Perrotte children met the town youth of their own age, giving +and taking on equal terms, sharing common privileges and advantages +and growing into a community solidarity all their own, which in +later years brought its own harvest of mingling joy and bitterness, +but which on the whole made for sound manhood and womanhood. + +With the girl Annette one effect of the Public School and its +influences, educational and social, was to reveal to her the depth +of the educational and social pit from which she had been taken. +Her High School training might have fitted her for the teaching +profession and completed her social emancipation but for her vain +and thriftless mother, who, socially ambitious for herself but more +for her handsome, clever children, found herself increasingly +embarrassed for funds. She lacked the means with which to suitably +adorn herself and her children for the station in life to which she +aspired and for which good clothes were the prime equipment and to +"eddicate" Tony as he deserved. Hence when Annette had completed +her second year at the High School her mother withdrew her from the +school and its associations and found her a place in the new Fancy +Box Factory, where girls could obtain "an illigant and refoined job +with good pay as well." + +This change in Annette's outlook brought wrathful disappointment to +the head master, Alex Day, who had taken a very special pride in +Annette's brilliant school career and who had outlined for her a +University course. To Annette herself the ending of her school +days was a bitter grief, the bitterness of which would have been +greatly intensified had she been able to measure the magnitude of +the change to be wrought in her life by her mother's foolish vanity +and unwise preference of her son's to her daughter's future. + +The determining factor in Annette's submission to her mother's will +was consideration for her brother and his career. For while for +her father she cherished an affectionate pride and for her mother +an amused and protective pity, her great passion was for her +brother--her handsome, vivacious, audacious and mercurial brother, +Tony. With him she counted it only joy to share her all too meagre +wages whenever he found himself in financial straits. And a not +infrequent situation this was with Tony, who, while he seemed to +have inherited from his mother the vivacity, quick wit and general +empty-headedness, from his father got nothing of the thrift and +patient endurance of grinding toil characteristic of the French- +Canadian habitant. But he did get from his father a capacity for +the knowing and handling of machinery, which amounted almost to +genius. Of the father's steadiness under the grind of daily work +which had made him the head mechanic in the Mill, Tony possessed +not a tittle. What he could get easily he got, and getting this +fancied himself richly endowed, knowing not how slight and +superficial is the equipment for life's stern fight that comes +without sweat of brain and body. His cleverness deceived first +himself and then his family, who united in believing him to be +destined for high place and great things. Only two of those who +had to do with him in his boyhood weighed him in the balance of +truth. One was his Public School master, who labored with +incessant and painful care to awaken in him some glimmer of the +need of preparation for that bitter fight to which every man is +appointed. The other was Grant Maitland, whose knowledge of men +and of life, gained at cost of desperate conflict, made the youth's +soul an open book to him. Recognising the boy's aptitude, he had +in holiday seasons set Tony behind the machines in his planing +mill, determined for his father's sake to make of him a mechanical +engineer. To Tony each new machine was a toy to be played with; in +a week or two he had mastered it and grown weary of it. Thenceforth +he slacked at his work and became a demoralizing influence in his +department, a source of anxiety to his steady-going father, a +plague to his employer, till the holiday time was done. + +"Were you my son, my lad, I'd soon settle you," Grant Maitland +would say, when the boy was ready to go back to his school. "You +will make a mess of your life unless you can learn to stick at your +job. The roads are full of clever tramps, remember that, my boy." + +But Tony only smiled his brilliant smile at him, as he took his pay +envelope, which burned a hole in his pocket till he had done with +it. When the next holiday came round Tony would present himself +for a job with Jack Maitland to plead for him. For to Tony Jack +was as king, to whom he gave passionate loyalty without stint or +measure. And thus for his son Jack's sake, Jack's father took Tony +on again, resolved to make another effort to make something out of +him. + +The bond between the two boys was hard to analyse. In games at +Public and High School Jack was always Captain and Tony his right- +hand man, held to his place and his training partly by his admiring +devotion to his Captain but more by a wholesome dread of the +inexorable disciplinary measures which slackness or trifling with +the rules of the game would inevitably bring him. Jack Maitland +was the one being in Tony's world who could put lasting fear into +his soul or steadiness into his practice. But even Jack at times +failed. + +Then when both were eighteen they went to the War, Jack as an +Officer, Tony as a Non-Commissioned Officer in the same Battalion, +Jack hating the bloody business but resolute to play this great +game of duty as he played all games for all that was in him, Tony +aglow at first with the movement and glitter and later mad with the +lust for deadly daring that was native to his Keltic Gallic soul. +They returned with their respective decorations of D. S. O. and +Military Medal and each with the stamp of war cut deep upon him, in +keeping with the quality of his soul. + +The return to peace was to them, as to the thousands of their +comrades to whom it was given to return, a shock almost as great as +had been the adventure of war. In a single day while still amid +the scenes and with all the paraphernalia of war about them an +unreal and bewildering silence had fallen on them. Like men in the +unearthly realities of a dream they moved through their routine +duties, waiting for the orders that would bring that well-known, +sickening, savage tightening of their courage and send them, laden +like beasts of burden, up once more to that hell of blood and mud, +of nerve-shattering shell, of blinding glare and ear-bursting roar +of gun fire, and, worse than all, to the place where, crouching in +the farcical deceptive shelter of the sandbagged trench, their +fingers gripping into the steel of their rifle hands, they would +wait for the zero hour. But as the weeks passed and the orders +failed to come they passed from that bewildering and subconscious +anxious waiting, to an experience of wildly exultant, hysterical +abandonment. They were done with all that long horror and terror; +they were never to go back into it again; they were going back +home; the New Day had dawned; war was no more, nor ever would be +again. Back to home, to waiting hearts, to shining eyes, to +welcoming arms, to peace, they were going. + +Thereafter, when some weeks of peace had passed and the drums of +peace had fallen quiet and the rushing, crowding, hurrahing people +had melted away, and the streets and roads were filled again with +men and women bent on business, with engagements to keep, the +returned men found themselves with dazed, listless mind waiting for +orders from someone, somewhere, or for the next movie show to open. +But they were unwilling to take on the humdrum of making a living, +and were in most cases incapable of initiating a congenial method +of employing their powers, their new-found, splendid, glorious +powers, by means of which they had saved an empire and a world. +They had become common men again, they in whose souls but a few +weeks ago had flamed the glory and splendour of a divine heroism! + +Small wonder that some of these men, tingling with the consciousness +of powers of which these busy, engaged people of the streets and +shops knew nothing, turned with disdain from the petty, paltry, many +of them non-manly tasks that men pursued solely that they might +live. Live! For these last terrible, great and glorious fifty +months they had schooled themselves to the notion that the main +business of life was not to live. There had been for them a thing +to do infinitely more worth while than to live. Indeed, had they +been determined at all costs to live, then they had become to +themselves, to their comrades, and indeed to all the world, the most +despicable of all living things, deserving and winning the infinite +contempt of all true men. + +While the "gratuity money" lasted life went merrily enough, but +when the last cheque had been cashed, and the grim reality that +rations had ceased and Q. M. Stores were not longer available +thrust itself vividly into the face of the demobilised veteran, and +when after experiencing in job hunting varying degrees of +humiliation the same veteran made the startling and painful +discovery that for his wares of heroic self-immolation, of dogged +endurance done up in khaki, there was no demand in the bloodless +but none the less strenuous conflict of living; and that other +discovery, more disconcerting, that he was not the man he had been +in pre-war days and thought himself still to be, but quite another, +then he was ready for one of two alternatives, to surrender to the +inevitable dictum that after all life was really not worth a fight, +more particularly if it could be sustained without one, or, to +fling his hat into the Bolshevist ring, ready for the old thing, +war--war against the enemies of civilisation and his own enemies, +against those who possessed things which he very much desired but +which for some inexplicable cause he was prevented from obtaining. + +The former class, to a greater or less degree, Jack Maitland +represented; the latter, Tony Perrotte. From their war experience +they were now knit together in bonds that ran into life issues. +Together they had faced war's ultimate horror, together they had +emerged with imperishable memories of sheer heroic manhood mutually +revealed in hours of desperate need. + +At Jack's request Tony had been given the position of a Junior +Foreman in one of the planing mill departments, with the promise of +advancement. + +"You can have anything you are fit for, Tony, in any of the mills. +I feel that I owe you, that we both owe you more than we can pay by +any position we can offer," was Grant Maitland's word. + +"Mr. Maitland, neither you nor Jack owes me anything. Jack has +paid, and more than once, all he owed me. But," with a rueful +smile, "don't expect too much from me in this job. I can't see +myself making it go." + +"Give it a big try. Do your best. I ask no more," said Mr. +Maitland. + +"My best? That's a hard thing. Give me a bayonet and set some +Huns before me, and I'll do my best. This is different somehow." + +"Different, yet the same. The same qualities make for success. +You have the brains and with your gift for machinery--Well, try it. +You and Jack here will make this go between you, as you made the +other go." + +The door closed on the young man. + +"Will he make good, Jack?" said the father, anxiously. + +"Will any of us make good?" + +"You will, Jack, I know. You can stick." + +"Yes, I can stick, I suppose, but, after all--well, we'll have a go +at it, anyway. But, like Tony, I feel like saying, 'Don't expect +too much.'" + +"Only your best, Jack, that's all. Take three months, six months, +a year, and get hold of the office end of the business. You have +brains enough. I want a General Manager right now, Wickes is +hardly up to it. He knows the books and he knows the works but he +knows nothing else. He doesn't know men nor markets. He is an +office man pure and simple, and he's old, too old. The fact is, +Jack, I have to be my own Manager inside and outside. My foremen +are good, loyal, reliable fellows, but they only know their orders. +I want someone to stand beside me. The plant has been doubled in +capacity during the war. We did a lot of war work--aeroplane +parts. We got the spruce in the raw and worked it up, good work, +too, if I do say it myself. No better was done." + +"I know something about that, Dad. I had a day with Badgley in +Toronto. I know something about it, and I know where the money +went, too, Dad." + +"The money? Of course, I couldn't take the money--how could I with +my boys at the war, and other men's boys?" + +"Rather not. My God, Dad, if I thought--! But what's the use +talking? They know in London all about the Ambulance Equipment and +the Machine Gun Battery, and the Hospital. Do you know why Caramus +took a job in the Permanent Force in England? It was either that +or blowing out his brains. He could not face his father, a war +millionaire. My God, how could he?" + +The boy was walking about his room with face white and lips +quivering. + +"Caramus was in charge of that Machine Gun Section that held the +line and let us get back. Every man wiped out, and Caramus carried +back smashed to small pieces--and his father making a million out +of munitions! My God! My God!" + +A silence fell in the room for a minute. + +"Poor old Caramus! I saw him in the City a month ago," said the +father. "I pitied the poor wretch. He was alone in the Club, not +a soul would speak to him. He has got his hell." + +"He deserves it--all of it, and all who like him have got fat on +blood money. Do you know, Dad, when I see those men going about in +the open and no one kicking them I get fairly sick. I don't wonder +at some of the boys seeing red. You mark my words, we are going to +have bad times in this country before long." + +"I am afraid of it, boy. Things look ugly. Even in our own works +I feel a bad spirit about. There are some newcomers from the old +country whom I can't say I admire much. They grouch and they won't +work. Our production is lower than ever in our history and our +labor cost is more than twice what it was in 1914." + +"Well, Dad, give them a little time to settle down. I have no more +use for a slacker than I have for a war millionaire." + +"We can't stand much of that thing. Financially we are in fairly +good shape. We broke even with our aeroplane work. But we have a +big stock of spruce on hand--high-priced stuff, too--and a heavy, +very heavy overhead. We shall weather it all right. I don't mind +the wages, but we must have production. And that's why I want you +with me." + +"You must not depend on me for much use for some time at least. +I know a little about handling men but about machinery I know +nothing." + +"Never fear, boy, you've got the machine instinct in you. I +remember your holiday work in the mill, you see. But your place is +in the office. Wickes will show you the ropes, and you will make +good, I know. And I just want to say that you don't know how glad +I am to have you come in with me, Jack. If your brother had come +back he would have taken hold, he was cut out for the job, but--" + +"Poor old Andy! He had your genius for the business. I wish he +had been the one to get back!" + +"We had not the choosing, Jack, and if he had come we should have +felt the same about you. God knows what He is doing, and we can +only do our best." + +"Well, Dad," said Jack, rising and standing near his father's +chair, "as I said before, I'll make a go at it, but don't count too +much on me." + +"I am counting a lot on you. You are all I have now." The +father's voice ended in a husky whisper. The boy swallowed the +rising lump in his throat but could find no more words to go on +with. But in his heart there was the resolve that he would make an +honest try to do for his father's sake what he would not for his +own. + +But before a month had gone he was heartily sick of the office. It +was indoors, and the petty fussing with trivial details irked him. +Accuracy was a sine qua non of successful office work, and accuracy +is either a thing of natural gift or is the result of long and +painful discipline, and neither by nature nor by discipline had +Jack come into the possession of this prime qualification for a +successful office man. His ledger wellnigh brought tears to old +Wickes' eyes and added a heavy load to his day's work. Not that +old Wickes grudged the extra burden, much less made any complaint; +rather did he count it joy to be able to cover from other eyes than +his own the errors that were inevitably to be found in Jack's daily +work. + +Had it seemed worth while, Jack would have disciplined himself to +accuracy. But what was the end of it all? A larger plant with +more machines to buy and more men to work them and to be overseen +and to be paid, a few more figures in a Bank Book--what else? +Jack's tastes were simple. He despised the ostentation of wealth +in the accumulation of mere things. He had only pity for the +plunger and for the loose liver contempt. Why should he tie +himself to a desk, a well appointed desk it is true, but still a +desk, in a four-walled room, a much finer room than his father had +ever known, but a room which became to him a cage. Why? Of +course, there was his father--and Jack wearily turned to his +correspondence basket, sick of the sight of paper and letter heads +and cost forms and production reports. For his father's sake, who +had only him, he would carry on. And carry on he did, doggedly, +wearily, bored to death, but sticking it. The reports from the +works were often ominous. Things were not going well. There was +an undercurrent of unrest among the men. + +"I don't wonder at it," said Jack to old Wickes one day, when the +bookkeeper set before him the week's pay sheet and production +sheet, side by side. "After all, why should the poor devils work +for us?" + +"For us, sir?" said the shocked Wickes. "For themselves, surely. +What would they do for a living if there was no work?" + +"That's just it, Wickes. They get a living--is it worth while?" + +"But, sir," gasped the old man, "they must live, and--" + +"Why must they?" + +"Because they want to! Wait till you see 'em sick, sir. My word! +They do make haste for the Doctor." + +"I fancy they do, Wickes. But all the same, I don't wonder that +they grouch a bit." + +"'Tis not the grumbling, sir, I deplore," said Wickes, "if they +would only work, or let the machines work. That's the trouble, +sir. Why, sir, when I came to your father, sir, we never looked at +the clock, we kept our minds on the work." + +"How long ago, Wickes?" + +"Thirty-one years, sir, come next Michaelmas. And glad I was to +get the job, too. You see, sir, I had just come to the country, +and with the missus and a couple of kids--" + +"Thirty-one years! Great Caesar! And you've worked at this desk +for thirty-one years! And what have you got out of it?" + +"Well, sir, not what you might call a terrible lot. I hadn't the +eddication for much, as you might say--but--well, there's my little +home, and we've lived happy there, the missus and me, and the kids-- +at least, till the war came." The old man paused abruptly. + +"You're right, Wickes, by Jove," exclaimed Jack, starting from his +seat and gripping the old man's hand. "You have made a lot out of +it--and you gave as fine a boy as ever stepped in uniform to your +country. We were all proud of Stephen, every man of us." + +"I know that, sir, and he often wrote the wife about you, sir, +which we don't forget, sir. Of course, it's hard on her and the +boys--just coming up to be somethin' at the school." + +"By the way, Wickes, how are they doing? Two of them, aren't +there? Let's see--there's Steve, he's the eldest--" + +"No, sir, he's the youngest, sir. Robert is the eldest--fourteen, +and quite clever at his books. Pity he's got to quit just now." + +"Quit? Not a bit of it. We must see to that. And little Steve-- +how is the back?" + +"He's twelve. The back hurts a lot, but he is happy enough, if you +give him a pencil. They're all with us now." + +"Ah, well, well. I think you have made something out of it after +all, Wickes. And we must see about Robert." + +Thirty-one years at the desk! And to show for it a home for his +wife and himself, a daughter in a home of her own, a son dead for +his country, leaving behind him a wife and two lads to carry the +name--was it worth while? Yes, by Jove, it was worth it all to be +able to give a man like Stephen Wickes to his country. For Stephen +Wickes was a fine stalwart lad, a good soldier, steady as a rock, +with a patient, cheery courage that nothing could daunt or break. +But for a man's self was it worth while? + +Jack had no thought of wife and family. There was Adrien. She had +been a great pal before the war, but since his return she had +seemed different. Everyone seemed different. The war had left +many gaps, former pals had formed other ties, many had gone from +the town. Even Adrien had drifted away from the old currents of +life. She seemed to have taken up with young Stillwell, whom Jack +couldn't abide. Stillwell had been turned down by the Recruiting +Officer during the war--flat feet, or something. True, he had done +great service in Red Cross, Patriotic Fund, Victory Loan work, and +that sort of thing, and apparently stood high in the Community. +His father had doubled the size of his store and had been a great +force in all public war work. He had spared neither himself nor +his son. The elder Stillwell, high up in the Provincial Political +world, saw to it that his son was on all the big Provincial War +Committees. Rupert had all the shrewd foresight and business +ability of his father, which was saying a good deal. He began to +assume the role of a promising young capitalist. The sources of +his income no one knew--fortunate investments, people said. And +his Hudson Six stood at the Rectory gate every day. Well, not even +for Adrien would Jack have changed places with Rupert Stillwell. +For Jack Maitland held the extreme and, in certain circles, +unpopular creed that the citizen who came richer out of a war which +had left his country submerged in debt, and which had drained away +its best blood and left it poorer in its manhood by well-nigh +seventy thousand of its noblest youth left upon the battlefields of +the various war fronts and by the hundreds of thousands who would +go through life a burden to themselves and to those to whom they +should have been a support--that citizen was accursed. If Adrien +chose to be a friend of such a man, by that choice she classified +herself as impossible of friendship for Jack. It had hurt a bit. +But what was one hurt more or less to one whom the war had left +numb in heart and bereft of ambition? He was not going to pity +himself. He was lucky indeed to have his body and nerve still +sound and whole, but they need not expect him to show any great +keenness in the chase for a few more thousands that would only rank +him among those for whom the war had not done so badly. Meantime, +for his father's sake, who, thank God, had given his best, his +heart's best and the best of his brain and of his splendid business +genius to his country, he would carry on, with no other reward than +that of service rendered. + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE HEATHEN QUEST + + +They stood together by the open fire in the study, Jack and his +father, alike in many ways yet producing effects very different. +The younger man had the physical makeup of the older, though of a +slighter mould. They had the same high, proud look of conscious +strength, of cool fearlessness that nothing could fluster. But the +soul that looked out of the grey eyes of the son was quite another +from that which looked out of the deep blue eyes of the father-- +yet, after all, the difference may not have been in essence but +only that the older man's soul had learned in life's experience to +look out only through a veil. + +The soul of the youth was eager, adventurous, still believing, yet +with a certain questioning and a touch of weariness, a result of +the aftermath of peace following three years of war. There was +still, however, the out-looking for far horizons, the outreaching +imagination, the Heaven given expectation of the Infinite. In the +older man's eye dwelt chiefly reserve. The veil was always there +except when he found it wise and useful to draw it aside. If ever +the inner light flamed forth it was when the man so chose. Self- +mastery, shrewdness, power, knowledge, lay in the dark blue eyes, +and all at the soul's command. + +But to-night as the father's eyes rested upon his son who stood +gazing into and through the blazing fire there were to be seen only +pride and wistful love. But as the son turned his eyes toward his +father the veil fell and the eyes that answered were quiet, shrewd, +keen and chiefly kind. + +The talk had passed beyond the commonplace of the day's doings. +They were among the big things, the fateful thing--Life and Its +Worth, Work and Its Wages, Creative Industry and Its Product, +Capital and Its Price, Man and His Rights. + +They were frank with each other. The war had done that for them. +For ever since the night when his eighteen-year-old boy had walked +into his den and said, "Father, I am eighteen," and stood looking +into his eyes and waiting for the word that came straight and +unhesitating, "I know, boy, you are my son and you must go, for I +cannot," ever since that night, which seemed now to belong to +another age, these two had faced each other as men. Now they were +talking about the young man's life work. + +"Frankly, I don't like it, Dad," said the son. + +"Easy to see that, Jack." + +"I'm really sorry. I'm afraid anyone can see it. But somehow I +can't put much pep into it." + +"Why?" asked the father, with curt abruptness. + +"Why? Well, I hardly know. Somehow it hardly seems worth while. +It is not the grind of the office, though that is considerable. I +could stick that, but, after all, what's the use?" + +"What would you rather do, Jack?" enquired his father patiently, as +if talking to a child. "You tried for the medical profession, you +know, and--" + +"I know, I know, you are quite right about it. You may think it +pure laziness. Maybe it is, but I hardly think so. Perhaps I went +back to lectures too soon after the war. I was hardly fit, I +guess, and the whole thing, the inside life, the infernal grind of +lectures, the idiotic serious mummery of the youngsters, those +blessed kids who should have been spanked by their mothers--the +whole thing sickened me in three months. If I had waited perhaps I +might have done better at the thing. I don't know--hard to tell." +The boy paused, looking into the fire. + +"It was my fault, boy," said the father hastily. "I ought to have +figured the thing out differently. But, you see, I had no +knowledge of what you had gone through and of its effect upon you. +I know better now. I thought that the harder you went into the +work the better it would be for you. I made a mistake." + +"Well, you couldn't tell, Dad. How could you? But everything was +so different when I came back. Mere kids were carrying on where we +had been, and doing it well, too, by Jove, and we didn't seem to be +needed." + +"Needed, boy?" The father's voice was thick. + +"Yes, but I didn't see that then. Selfish, I fear. Then, you +know, home was not the same--" + +The older man choked back a groan and leaned hard against the +mantel. + +"I know, Dad, I can see now I was selfish--" + +"Selfish? Don't say that, my lad. Selfish? After all you had +gone through? No, I shall never apply that word to you, but you-- +you don't seem to realise--" The father hesitated a few moments, +then, as if taking a plunge: + +"You don't realise just how big a thing--how big an investment +there is in that business down there--." His hand swept toward the +window through which could be seen the lights of that part of the +town which clustered about the various mills and factories of which +he was owner. + +"I know there is a lot, Dad, but how much I don't know." + +"There's $250,000 in plant alone, boy, but there's more than money, +a lot more than money--" Then, after a pause, as if to himself, "A +lot more than money--there's brain sweat and heart agony and +prayers and tears--and, yes, life, boy, your mother's life and +mine. We worked and saved and prayed and planned--" + +He stepped quickly toward the window, drew aside the curtain and +pointed to a dark mass of headland beyond the twinkling lights. + +"You see the Bluff there. Fifty years ago I stood with my father +on that Bluff and watched the logs come down the river to the +sawmill--his sawmill, into which he had put his total capital, five +hundred dollars. I remember well his words, 'My son, if you live +out your life you will see on that flat a town where thousands of +men and women will find homes and, please God, happiness.' Your +mother and I watched that town grow for forty years, and we tried +to make people happy--at least, if they were not it was no fault of +hers. Of course, other hands have been at the work since then, but +her hands and mine more than any other, and more than all others +together were in it, and her heart, too, was in it all." + +The boy turned from the window and sat down heavily in a deep +armchair, his hands covering his face. His heart was still sick +with the ache that had smitten it that day in front of Amiens when +the Colonel, his father's friend, had sent for him and read him the +wire which had brought the terrible message of his mother's death. +The long months of days and nights heavy with watching, toiling, +praying, agonising, for her twin sons, and for the many boys who +had gone out from the little town wore out her none too robust +strength. Then, the sniper's bullet that had pierced the heart of +her boy seemed to reach to her heart as well. After that, the home +that once had been to its dwellers the most completely heart- +satisfying spot in all the world became a place of dread, of +haunting ghosts, of acutely poignant memories. They used the house +for sleeping in and for eating in, but there was no living in it +longer. To them it was a tomb, though neither would acknowledge it +and each bore with it for the other's sake. + +"Honestly, Dad, I wish I could make it go, for your sake--" + +"For my sake, boy? Why, I have all of it I care for. Not for my +sake. But what else can we do but stick it?" + +"I suppose so--but for Heaven's sake give me something worth a +man's doing. If I could tackle a job such as you and"--the boy +winced--"you and mother took on I believe I'd try it. But that +office! Any fool could sit in my place and carry on. It is like +the job they used to give to the crocks or the slackers at the base +to do. Give me a man's job." + +The father's keen blue eyes looked his son over. + +"A man's job?" he said, with a grim smile, realising as his son did +not how much of a man's job it was. "Suppose you learn this one as +I did?" + +"What do you mean, Dad, exactly? How did you begin?" + +"I? At the tail of the saw." + +"All right, I'm game." + +"Boy, you are right--I believe in my soul you are right. You did a +man's job 'out there' and you have it in you to do a man's job +again." + +The son shrugged his shoulders. Next morning at seven they were +down at the planing mill where men were doing men's work. He was +at a man's job, at the tail of a saw, and drawing a man's pay, +rubbing shoulders with men on equal terms, as he had in the +trenches. And for the first time since Armistice Day, if not happy +or satisfied, he was content to carry on. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +ANNETTE + + +Sam Wigglesworth had finished with school, which is not quite the +same as saying that he had finished his education. A number of +causes had combined to bring this event to pass. First, Sam was +beyond the age of compulsory attendance at the Public School, the +School Register recording him as sixteen years old. Then, Sam's +educational career had been anything but brilliant. Indeed, it +might fairly be described as dull. All his life he had been behind +his class, the biggest boy in his class, which fact might have been +to Sam a constant cause of humiliation had he not held as of the +slightest moment merely academic achievements. One unpleasant +effect which this fact had upon Sam's moral quality was that it +tended to make him a bully. He was physically the superior of all +in his class, and this superiority he exerted for what he deemed +the discipline of younger and weaker boys, who excelled him in +intellectual attainment. + +Furthermore, Sam, while quite ready to enforce the code of +discipline which he considered suitable to the smaller and weaker +boys in his class, resented and resisted the attempts of constituted +authority to enforce discipline in his own case, with the result +that Sam's educational career was, after much long suffering, +abruptly terminated by the action of the long-suffering head, Alex +Day. + +"With great regret I must report," his letter to the School Board +ran, "that in the case of Samuel Wigglesworth I have somehow failed +to inculcate the elementary principles of obedience to school +regulations and of adherence to truth in speech. I am free to +acknowledge," went on the letter, "that the defect may be in myself +as much as in the boy, but having failed in winning him to +obedience and truth-telling, I feel that while I remain master of +the school I must decline to allow the influence of this youth to +continue in the school. A whole-hearted penitence for his many +offences and an earnest purpose to reform would induce me to give +him a further trial. In the absence of either penitence or purpose +to reform I must regretfully advise expulsion." + +Joyfully the School Board, who had for months urged upon the +reluctant head this action, acquiesced in the course suggested, and +Samuel was forthwith expelled, to his own unmitigated relief but to +his father's red and raging indignation at what he termed the +"(h)ignorant persecution of their betters by these (h)insolent +Colonials," for "'is son 'ad 'ad the advantages of schools of the +'ighest standin' in (H)England." + +Being expelled from school Sam forthwith was brought by his father +to the office of the mills, where he himself was employed. There +he introduced his son to the notice of Mr. Grant Maitland, with +request for employment. + +The old man looked the boy over. + +"What has he been doing?" + +"Nothin'. 'E's just left school." + +"High School?" + +"Naw. Public School." Wigglesworth Sr.'s tone indicated no +exalted opinion of the Public School. + +"Public School! What grade, eh?" + +"Grade? I dinnaw. Wot grade, Samuel? Come, speak (h)up, cawn't +yeh?" + +"Uh?" Sam's mental faculties had been occupied in observing the +activities and guessing the probable fate of a lumber-jack gaily +decked in scarlet sash and blue overalls, who was the central +figure upon a flaming calendar tacked up behind Mr. Maitland's +desk, setting forth the commercial advantages of trading with the +Departmental Stores of Stillwell & Son. + +"Wot grade in school, the boss is (h)askin'," said his father +sharply. + +"Grade?" enquired Sam, returning to the commonplace of the moment. + +"Yes, what grade in the Public School were you in when you left?" +The blue eyes of the boss was "borin' 'oles" through Sam and the +voice pierced like a "bleedin' gimblet," as Wigglesworth, Sr., +reported to his spouse that afternoon. + +Sam hesitated a bare second. "Fourth grade it was," he said with +sullen reluctance. + +"'Adn't no chance, Samuel 'adn't. Been a delicate child ever since +'is mother stopped suckin' 'im," explained the father with a +sympathetic shake of his head. + +The cold blue eye appraised the boy's hulking mass. + +"'E don't look it," continued Mr. Wigglesworth, noting the keen +glance, "but 'e's never been (h)able to bide steady at the school. +(H)It's 'is brain, sir." + +"His--ah--brain?" Again the blue eyes appraised the boy, this time +scanning critically his face for indication of undue brain +activity. + +"'Is brain, sir," earnestly reiterated the sympathetic parent. +"'Watch that (h)infant's brain,' sez the Doctor to the missus when +she put 'im on the bottle. And you know, we 'ave real doctors in +(H)England, sir. 'Watch 'is brain,' sez 'e, and, my word, the care +'is ma 'as took of that boy's brain is wunnerful, is fair +beautiful, sir." Mr. Wigglesworth's voice grew tremulous at the +remembrance of that maternal solicitude. + +"And was that why he left school?" enquired the boss. + +"Well, sir, not (h)exackly," said Mr. Wigglesworth, momentarily +taken aback, "though w'en I comes to think on it that must a been +at the bottom of it. You see, w'en Samuel went at 'is books of a +night 'e'd no more than begin at a sum an' 'e'd say to 'is ma, 'My +brain's a-whirlin', ma', just like that, and 'is ma would 'ave to +pull 'is book away, just drag it away, you might say. Oh, 'e's 'ad +a 'ard time, 'as Samuel." At this point the boss received a +distinct shock, for, as his eyes were resting upon Samuel's face +meditatively while he listened somewhat apathetically, it must be +confessed, to the father's moving tale, the eye of the boy remote +from the father closed in a slow but significant wink. + +The boss sat up, galvanised into alert attention. "Eh? What?" he +exclaimed. + +"Yes, sir, 'e's caused 'is ma many a (h)anxious hour, 'as Samuel." +Again the eye closed in a slow and solemn wink. "And we thought, +'is ma and me, that we would like to get Samuel into some easy +job--" + +"An easy job, eh?" + +"Yes, sir. Something in the office, 'ere." + +"But his brain, you say, would not let him study his books." + +"Oh, it was them sums, sir, an' the Jography and the 'Istory an' +the Composition, an', an'--wot else, Samuel? You see, these 'ere +schools ain't a bit like the schools at 'ome, sir. They're so +confusing with their subjecks. Wot I say is, why not stick to real +(h)eddication, without the fiddle faddles?" + +"So you want an easy job for your son, eh?" enquired Mr. Maitland. + +"Boy," he said sharply to Samuel, whose eyes had again become fixed +upon the gay and daring lumber-jack. Samuel recalled himself with +visible effort. "Why did you leave school? The truth, mind." The +"borin'" eyes were at their work. + +"Fired!" said Sam promptly. + +Mr. Wigglesworth began a sputtering explanation. + +"That will do, Wigglesworth," said Mr. Maitland, holding up his +hand. "Sam, you come and see me tomorrow here at eight. Do you +understand?" + +Sam nodded. After they had departed there came through the closed +office door the sound of Mr. Wigglesworth's voice lifted in violent +declamation, but from Sam no answering sound could be heard. + +The school suffered no noticeable loss in the intellectual quality +of its activities by the removal of the whirling brain and +incidentally its physical integument of Samuel Wigglesworth. To +the smaller boys the absence of Sam brought unbounded joy, more +especially during the hours of recess from study and on their +homeward way from school after dismissal. + +More than any other, little Steve Wickes rejoiced in Sam's +departure from school. Owing to some mysterious arrangement of +Sam's brain cells he seemed to possess an abnormal interest in +observing the sufferings of any animal. The squirming of an +unfortunate fly upon a pin fascinated him, the sight of a wretched +dog driven mad with terror rushing frantically down a street, with +a tin can dangling to its tail, convulsed him with shrieking +delight. The more highly organised the suffering animal, the +keener was Sam's joy. A child, for instance, flying in a paroxysm +of fear from Sam's hideously contorted face furnished acute +satisfaction. It fell naturally enough that little Steve Wickes, +the timid, shrinking, humpbacked son of the dead soldier, Stephen +Wickes, afforded Sam many opportunities of rare pleasure. It was +Sam that coined and, with the aid of his sycophantic following +never wanting to a bully, fastened to the child the nickname of +"Humpy Wicksy," working thereby writhing agony in the lad's highly +sensitive soul. But Sam did not stay his hand at the infliction of +merely mental anguish. It was one of his favorite forms of sport +to seize the child by the collar and breeches and, swinging him +high over head, hold him there in an anguish of suspense, awaiting +the threatened drop. It is to be confessed that Sam was not +entirely without provocation at the hands of little Steve, for the +lad had a truly uncanny cunning hidden in his pencil, by means of +which Sam was held up in caricature to the surreptitious joy of his +schoolmates. Sam's departure from school deprived him of the full +opportunity he formerly enjoyed of indulging himself in his +favourite sport. On this account he took the more eager advantage +of any opportunity that offered still to gratify his taste in this +direction. + +Sauntering sullenly homeward from his interview with the boss and +with his temper rasped to a raw edge by his father's wrathful +comments upon his "dommed waggin' tongue," he welcomed with quite +unusual eagerness the opportunity for indulging himself in his +pastime of baiting Humpy Wicksy whom he overtook on his way home +from school during the noon intermission. + +"Hello, Humpy," he roared at the lad. + +Like a frightened rabbit Steve scurried down a lane, Sam whooping +after him. + +"Come back, you little beast. Do you hear me? I'll learn you to +come when you're called," he shouted, catching the terrified lad +and heaving him aloft in his usual double-handed grip. + +"Let me down, you! Leave me alone now," shrieked the boy, +squirming, scratching, biting like an infuriated cat. + +"Bite, would you?" said Sam, flinging the boy down. "Now then," +catching him by the legs and turning him over on his stomach, +"we'll make a wheelbarrow of you. Gee up, Buck! Want a ride, +boys?" he shouted to his admiring gallery of toadies. "All +aboard!" + +While the unhappy Steve, shrieking prayers and curses, was +struggling vainly to extricate himself from the hands gripping his +ankles, Annette Perrotte, stepping smartly along the street on her +way from the box factory, came past the entrance to the lane. By +her side strode a broad-shouldered, upstanding youth. Arrested by +Steve's outcries and curses she paused. + +"What are those boys at, I wonder?" she said. "There's that big +lout of a Wigglesworth boy. He's up to no good, I bet you." + +"Oh, a kids' row of some kind or ither, a doot," said the youth. +"Come along." + +"He's hurting someone," said Annette, starting down the lane. +"What? I believe it's that poor child, Steve Wickes." Like a +wrathful fury she dashed in upon Sam and his company of tormentors +and, knocking the little ones right and left, she sprang upon Sam +with a fierce cry. + +"You great brute!" She seized him by his thatch of thick red hair +and with one mighty swing she hurled him clear of Steve and dashed +him head on against the lane fence. Sheer surprise held Sam silent +for a few seconds, but as he felt the trickle of warm blood run +down his face and saw it red upon his hand, his surprise gave place +to terror. + +"Ouw! Ouw!" he bellowed. "I'm killed, I'm dying. Ouw! Ouw!" + +"I hope so," said Annette, holding Steve in her arms and seeking to +quiet his sobbing. But as she saw the streaming blood her face +paled. + +"For the love of Mike, Mack, see if he's hurt," she said in a low +voice to her companion. + +"Not he! He's makin' too much noise," said the young man. "Here, +you young bull, wait till I see what's wrang wi' ye," he continued, +stooping over Sam. + +"Get away from me, I tell you. Ouw! Ouw! I'm dying, and they'll +hang her. Ouw! Ouw! I'm killed, and I'm just glad I am, for +she'll be hung to death." Here Sam broke into a vigorous stream of +profanity. + +"Ay, he's improvin' A doot," said Mack. "Let us be going." + +"'Ello! Wot's (h)up?" cried a voice. It was Mr. Wigglesworth on +his way home from the mill. "Why, bless my living lights, if it +bean't Samuel. Who's been a beatin' of you, Sammy?" His eye swept +the crowd. "'Ave you been at my lad?" he asked, stepping toward +the young man, whom Annette named Mack. + +"Aw, steady up, man. There's naethin' much wrang wi' the lad--a +wee scratch on the heid frae fa'in' against the fence yonder." + +"Who 'it 'im, I say?" shouted Mr. Wigglesworth. "Was it you?" he +added, squaring up to the young man. + +"No, it wasn't, Mr. Wigglesworth. It was me." Mr. Wigglesworth +turned on Annette who, now that Sam's bellowing had much abated +with the appearance of his father upon the scene, had somewhat +regained her nerve. + +"You?" gasped Mr. Wigglesworth. "You? My Samuel? It's a lie," he +cried. + +"Hey, mon, guairrd y're tongue a bit," said Mack. "Mind ye're +speakin' to a leddy." + +"A lidy! A lidy!" Mr. Wigglesworth's voice was eloquent of scorn. + +"Aye, a leddy!" said Mack. "An' mind what ye say aboot her tae. +Mind y're manners, man." + +"My manners, hey? An' 'oo may you be, to learn me manners, you +bloomin' (h)ignorant Scotch (h)ass. You give me (h)any of your +(h)imperance an' I'll knock y're bloomin' block (h)off, I will." +And Mr. Wigglesworth, throwing himself into the approved pugilistic +attitude, began dancing about the young Scot. + +"Hoot, mon, awa' hame wi' ye. Tak' yon young tyke wi' ye an' gie +him a bit wash, he's needin' it," said Mack, smiling pleasantly at +the excited and belligerent Mr. Wigglesworth. + +At this point Captain Jack, slowly motoring by the lane mouth, +turned his machine to the curb and leaped out. + +"What's the row here?" he asked, making his way through the +considerable crowd that had gathered. "What's the trouble, +Wigglesworth?" + +"They're knockin' my boy abaht, so they be," exclaimed Mr. +Wigglesworth. "But," with growing and righteous wrath, "they'll +find (h)out that, wotsomever they do to a kid, w'en they come (h)up +agin Joe Wigglesworth they've struck somethin' 'ard--'ard, d'ye +'ear? 'Ard!" And Mr. Wigglesworth made a pass at the young Scot. + +"Hold on, Wigglesworth," said Captain Jack quietly, catching his +arm. "Were you beating up this kid?" he asked, turning to the +young man. + +"Nae buddie's beatin' up the lad," said Mack quietly. + +"It was me," said the girl, turning a defiant face to Captain Jack. + +"You? Why! great Scot! Blest if it isn't Annette." + +"Yes, it's me," said the girl, her face a flame of colour. + +"By Jove, you've grown up, haven't you? And it was you that--" + +"Yes, that big brute was abusing Steve here." + +"What? Little Steve Wickes?" + +"He was, and I pitched him into the fence. He hit his head and cut +it, I guess. I didn't mean--" + +"Served him right enough, too, I fancy," said Captain Jack. + +"I'll 'ave the law on the lot o' ye, I will. I'm a poor workin' +man, but I've got my rights, an' if there's a justice in this Gawd +forsaken country I'll 'ave protection for my family." And Mr. +Wigglesworth, working up a fury, backed off down the lane. + +"Don't fear, Wigglesworth, you'll get all the justice you want. +Perhaps Sam will tell us--Hello! Where is Sam?" + +But Sam had vanished. He had no mind for an investigation in the +presence of Captain Jack. + +"Well, well, he can't be much injured, I guess. Meantime, can I +give you a lift, Annette?" + +"No, thank you," said the girl, the colour in her cheeks matching +the crimson ribbon at her throat. "I'm just going home. It's only +a little way. I don't--" + +"The young leddy is with me, sir," said the young Scotchman +quietly. + +"Oh, she is, eh?" said Captain Jack, looking him over. "Ah, well, +then--Good-bye, Annette, for the present." He held out his hand. +"We must renew our old acquaintance, eh?" + +"Thank you, sir," said the girl. + +"'Sir?' Rot! You aren't going to 'sir' me, Annette, after all the +fun and the fights we had in the old days. Not much. We're going +to be good chums again, eh? What do you say?" + +"I don't know," said Annette, flashing a swift glance into Captain +Jack's admiring eyes. "It depends on--" + +"On me?" + +"I didn't say so." Her head went up a bit. + +"On you?" + +"I didn't say so." + +"Well, let it go. But we will be pals again, Annette, I vow. +Good-bye." Captain Jack lifted his hat and moved away. + +As he reached his car he ran up against young Rupert Stillwell. + +"Deucedly pretty Annette has grown, eh?" said Stillwell. + +"Annette's all right," said Jack, rather brusquely, entering his +car. + +"Working in your box factory, I understand, eh?" + +"Don't really know," said Jack carelessly. "Probably." + +The crowd had meantime faded away with Captain Jack's going. + +"Did na know the Captain was a friend of yours, Annette," said +Mack, falling into step beside her. + +"No--yes--I don't know. We went to Public School together before +the war. I was a kid then." Her manner was abstracted and her +eyes were far away. Mack walked gloomily by her on one side, +little Steve on the other. + +"Huh! He's no your sort, A doot," he said sullenly. + +"What do you say?" cried Annette, returning from her abstraction. +"What do you mean, 'my sort'?" Her head went high and her eyes +flashed. + +"He would na look at ye, for ony guid." + +"He did look at me though," replied Annette, tossing her head. + +"No for ony guid!" repeated Mack, stubbornly. + +Annette stopped in her tracks, a burning red on her cheeks and a +dangerous light in her black eyes. + +"Mr. McNish, that's your road," she said, pointing over his +shoulder. + +"A'll tak it tae," said McNish, wheeling on his heel, "an' ye can +hae your Captain for me." + +With never a look at him Annette took her way home. + +"Good-bye, Steve," she said, stooping and kissing the boy. "This +is your corner." + +"Annette," he said, with a quick, shy look up into her face, "I +like Captain Jack, don't you?" + +"No," she said hurriedly. "I mean yes, of course." + +"And I like you too," said the boy, with an adoring look in his +deep eyes, "better'n anyone in the world." + +"Do you, Steve? I'm glad." Again she stooped swiftly and kissed +him. "Now run home." + +She hurried home, passed into her room without a word to anyone. +Slowly she removed her hat, then turning to her glass she gazed at +her flushed face for a few moments. A little smile curved her +lips. "He did look at me anyway," she whispered to the face that +looked out at her, "he did, he did," she repeated. Then swiftly +she covered her eyes. When she looked again she saw a face white +and drawn. "He would na look at ye." The words smote her with a +chill. Drearily she turned away and went out. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE RECTORY + + +The Rectory was one of the very oldest of the more substantial of +Blackwater's dwellings. Built of grey limestone from the local +quarries, its solid square mass relieved by its quaint dormer +windows was softened from its primal ugliness by the Boston ivy +that had clambered to the eaves and lay draped about the windows +like a soft green mantle. Built in the early days, it stood with +the little church, a gem of Gothic architecture, within spacious +grounds bought when land was cheap. Behind the house stood the +stable, built also of grey limestone, and at one side a cherry and +apple orchard formed a charming background to the grey buildings +with their crowding shrubbery and gardens. A gravelled winding +drive led from the street through towering elms, a picturesque +remnant from the original forest, to the front door and round the +house to the stable yard behind. From the driveway a gravelled +footpath led through the shrubbery and flower garden by a wicket +gate to the Church. When first built the Rectory stood in dignified +seclusion on the edge of the village, but the prosperity of the +growing town demanding space for its inhabitants had driven its +streets far beyond the Rectory demesne on every side, till now it +stood, a green oasis of sheltered loveliness, amid a crowding mass +of modern brick dwellings, comfortable enough but arid of beauty and +suggestive only of the utilitarian demands of a busy manufacturing +town. + +For nearly a quarter of a century the Rev. Herbert Aveling +Templeton, D.D., LL.D., for whom the Rectory had been built, had +ministered in holy things to the Parish of St. Alban's and had +exercised a guiding and paternal care over the social and religious +well-being of the community. The younger son of one of England's +noble families, educated in an English Public School and University, +he represented, in the life of this new, thriving, bustling town, +the traditions and manners of an English gentleman of the Old +School. Still in his early sixties, he carried his years with all +the vigour of a man twenty years his junior. As he daily took his +morning walk for his mail, stepping with the brisk pace of one whose +poise the years had not been able to disturb, yet with the stately +bearing consistent with the dignity attaching to his position and +office, men's eyes followed the tall, handsome, white-haired, well +set up gentleman always with admiration and, where knowledge was +intimate, with reverence and affection. Before the recent rapid +growth of the town consequent upon the establishment of various +manufacturing industries attracted thither by the unique railroad +facilities, the Rector's walk was something in the nature of public +perambulatory reception. For he knew them all, and for all had a +word of greeting, of enquiry, of cheer, of admonition, so that by +the time he had returned to his home he might have been said to have +conducted a pastoral visitation of a considerable proportion of his +flock. Even yet, with the changes that had taken place, his walk to +the Post Office was punctuated with greetings and salutations from +his fellow-citizens in whose hearts his twenty-five years of +devotion to their well-being, spiritual and physical, had made for +him an enduring place. + +The lady of the Rectory, though some twenty years his junior, yet, +by reason of delicate health due largely to the double burden of +household cares and parish duties, appeared to be quite of equal +age. Gentle in spirit, frail in body, there seemed to be in her +soul something of the quality of tempered steel, yet withal a +strain of worldly wisdom mingled with a strange ignorance of the +affairs of modern life. Her life revolved around one centre, her +adored husband, a centre enlarged as time went on to include her +only son and her two daughters. All others and all else in her +world were of interest solely as they might be more or less closely +related to these, the members of her family. The town and the town +folk she knew solely as her husband's parish. There were other +people and other communions, no doubt, but being beyond the pale +they could hardly be supposed to matter, or, at any rate, she could +not be supposed to regard them with more than the interest and +spasmodic concern which she felt it her duty to bestow upon those +unfortunate dwellers in partibus infidelium. + +Regarding the Public School of the town with aversion because of +its woefully democratic character, she was weaned from her +hostility to that institution when her son's name was entered upon +its roll. Her eldest daughter, indeed, she sent as a girl of +fourteen to an exclusive English school, the expense of which was +borne by her husband's eldest brother, Sir Arthur Templeton, for +she held the opinion that while for a boy the Public School was an +excellent institution with a girl it was quite different. Hence, +while her eldest daughter went "Home" for her education, her boy +went to the Blackwater Public and High Schools, which institutions +became henceforth invested with the highest qualifications as +centres of education. Her boy's friends were her friends, and to +them her house was open at all hours of day or night. Indeed, it +became the governing idea in her domestic policy that her house +should be the rallying centre for everything that was related in +any degree to her children's life. Hence, she quietly but +effectively limited the circle of the children's friends to those +who were able and were willing to make the Rectory their social +centre. She saw to it that for Herbert's intimate boy friends the +big play room at the top of the house, once a bare and empty room +and later the large and comfortable family living room, became the +place of meeting for all their social and athletic club activities. +With unsleeping vigilance she stood on guard against anything that +might break that circle of her heart's devotion. The circle might +be, indeed must be enlarged, as for instance to take in the +Maitland boys, Herbert's closest chums. She was wise enough to see +the wisdom of that, but nothing on earth would she allow to filch +from her a single unit of the priceless treasures of her heart. + +To this law of her life she made one glorious, one splendid +exception. When her country called, she, after weeks of silent, +fierce, lonely, agonised struggle gave up her boy and sent him with +voiceless, tearless pride to the War. + +But, when the boy's Colonel wrote in terms of affectionate pride of +her boy's glorious passing, with new and strange adaptability her +heart circle was extended to include her boy's comrades in war and +those who like herself had sent them forth. Thenceforth every +khaki covered lad was to her a son, and every soldier's mother a +friend. + +As her own immediate home circle grew smaller, the intensity of +her devotion increased. Her two daughters became her absorbing +concern. With the modern notion that a girl might make for herself +a career in life she had no sympathy whatever. To see them happily +married and in homes of their own became the absorbing ambition of +her life. To this end she administered her social activities, with +this purpose in view she encouraged or discouraged her daughters' +friendships with men. With the worldly wisdom of which she had her +own share she came to the conclusion that ineligible men friends, +that is, men friends unable to give her daughters a proper setting +in the social world, were to be effectively eliminated. That the +men of her daughters' choosing should be gentlemen in breeding went +without saying, but that they should be sufficiently endowed with +wealth to support a proper social position was equally essential. + +That Jack Maitland had somehow dropped out of the intimate circle +of friends who had in pre-war days made the Rectory their +headquarters was to her a more bitter disappointment than she cared +to acknowledge even to herself. Her son and the two Maitland boys +had been inseparable in their school and college days, and with the +two young men her daughters had been associated in the very closest +terms of comradeship. But somehow Captain Jack Maitland after the +first months succeeding his return from the war had drawn apart. +Disappointed, perplexed, hurt, she vainly had striven to restore +the old footing between the young man and her daughters. Young +Maitland had taken up his medical studies for a few months at his +old University in Toronto and so had been out of touch with the +social life of his home town. Then after he had "chucked" his +course as impossible he had at his father's earnest wish taken up +work at the mills, at first in the office, later in the manufacturing +department. There was something queer in Jack's attitude toward his +old life and its associations, and after her first failures in +attempting to restore the old relationship her eldest daughter's +pride and then her own forbade further efforts. + +Adrien, her eldest daughter, had always been a difficult child, and +her stay in England and later her experience in war work in France +where for three years she had given rare service in hospital work +had somehow made her even more inaccessible to her mother. And +now the situation had been rendered more distressing by her +determination "to find something to do." She was firm in her +resolve that she had no intention of patiently waiting in her home, +ostensibly busying herself with social duties but in reality +"waiting if not actually angling for a man." She bluntly informed +her scandalised parent that "when she wanted a man more than a +career it would be far less humiliating to frankly go out and get +him than to practise alluring poses in the hopes that he might deign +to bestow upon her his lordly regard." Her mother wisely forebore +to argue. Indeed, she had long since learned that in argumentive +powers she was hopelessly outclassed by her intellectual daughter. +She could only express her shocked disappointment at such intentions +and quietly plan to circumvent them. + +As to Patricia, her younger daughter, she dismissed all concern. +She was only a child as yet, wise beyond her years, but too +thoroughly immature to cause any anxiety for some years to come. +Meantime she had at first tolerated and then gently encouraged the +eager and obvious anxiety of Rupert Stillwell to make a footing for +himself in the Rectory family. At the outbreak of the war her +antipathy to young Stillwell as a slacker had been violent. He had +not joined up with the first band of ardent young souls who had so +eagerly pointed the path to duty and to glory. But, when it had +been made clear to the public mind that young Stillwell had been +pronounced physically unfit for service and was therefore prevented +from taking his place in that Canadian line which though it might +wear thin at times had never broken, Mrs. Templeton relieved him in +her mind of the damning count of being a slacker. Later, becoming +impressed with the enthusiasm of the young man's devotion to +various forms of patriotic war service at home, she finally, though +it must be confessed with something of an effort, had granted him a +place within the circle of her home. Furthermore, Rupert Stillwell +had done extremely well in all his business enterprises and had come +to be recognised as one of the coming young men of the district, +indeed of the Province, with sure prospects of advancement in public +estimation. Hence, the frequency with which Stillwell's big Hudson +Six could be seen parked on the gravelled drive before the Rectory +front door. In addition to this, Rupert and his Hudson Six were +found to be most useful. He had abundance of free time and he was +charmingly ready with his offers of service. Any hour of the day +the car, driven by himself or his chauffeur, was at the disposal of +any member of the Rectory family, a courtesy of which Mrs. Templeton +was not unwilling to avail herself though never with any loss of +dignity but always with appearance of bestowing rather than of +receiving a favour. As to the young ladies, Adrien rarely allowed +herself the delight of a motor ride in Rupert Stillwell's luxurious +car. On the other hand, had her mother not intervened, Patricia +would have indulged without scruple her passion for joy-riding. The +car she adored, Rupert Stillwell she regarded simply as a means to +the indulgence of her adoration. He was a jolly companion, a +cleverly humourous talker, and an unfailing purveyor of bon-bons. +Hence he was to Patricia an ever welcome guest at the Rectory, and +the warmth of Patricia's welcome went a long way to establish his +position of intimacy in the family. + +It was not to be supposed, however, that that young lady's gracious +and indeed eager acceptance of the manifold courtesies of the young +gentleman in question burdened her in the very slightest with any +sense of obligation to anything but the most cavalier treatment of +him, should occasion demand. She was unhesitatingly frank and +ready with criticism and challenge of his opinions, indeed he +appeared to possess a fatal facility for championing her special +aversions and antagonising her enthusiasms. Of the latter her most +avowed example was Captain Jack, as she loved to call him. A word +of criticism of Captain Jack, her hero, her knight, sans peur et +sans reproche and her loyal soul was aflame with passionate +resentment. + +It so fell on an occasion when young Stillwell was a dinner guest +at the Rectory. + +"Do you know, Patricia," and Rupert Stillwell looked across the +dinner table teasingly into Patricia's face, "your Captain Jack was +rather mixed up in a nice little row to-day?" + +"I heard all about it, Rupert, and Captain Jack did just what I +would have expected him to do." Patricia's unsmiling eyes looked +steadily into the young man's smiling face. + +"Rescued a charming young damsel, eh? By the way, that Perrotte +girl has turned out uncommonly good looking," continued Rupert, +addressing the elder sister. + +"Rescuing a poor little ill-treated boy from the hands of a brutal +bully and the bully's brutal father--" Patricia's voice was coolly +belligerent. + +"My dear Patricia!" The mother's voice was deprecatingly pacific. + +"It is simply true, Mother, and Rupert knows it quite well too, or--" + +"Patricia!" Her father's quiet voice arrested his daughter's flow +of speech. + +"But, Father, everyone--" + +"Patricia!" The voice was just as quiet but with a slightly +increased distinctness in enunciation, and glancing swiftly at her +father's face Patricia recognised that the limits of her speech had +been reached, unless she preferred to change the subject. + +"Yes, Annette has grown very pretty, indeed," said Adrien, taking +up the conversation, "and is really a very nice girl, indeed. She +sings beautifully. She is the leading soprano in her church choir, +I believe." + +"Captain Jack Maitland appeared to think her quite charming," said +Rupert, making eyes at Patricia. Patricia's lips tightened and her +eyes gleamed a bit. + +"They were in school together, I think, were they not, Mamma?" said +Adrien, flushing slightly. + +"Of course they were, and so was Rupert, too--" said Patricia with +impatient scorn, "and so would you if you hadn't been sent to +England," she added to her sister. + +"No doubt of it," said Rupert with a smile, "but you see she was +fortunate enough to be sent to England." + +"Blackwater is good enough for me," said Patricia, a certain +stubborn hostility in her tone. + +"I have always thought the Blackwater High School an excellent +institution," said her mother quickly, "especially for boys." + +"Yes, indeed, for boys," replied Stillwell, "but for young ladies-- +well, there is something in an English school, you know, that you +can't get in any High School here in Canada." + +"Rot!" ejaculated Patricia. + +"My dear Patricia!" The mother was quite shocked. + +"Pardon me, Mother, but you know we have a perfectly splendid High +School here. Father has often said so." + +Her mother sighed. "Yes, for boys. But for girls, I feel with +Rupert that you get something in English schools that--" She +hesitated, looking uncertainly at her elder daughter. + +"Yes, and perhaps lose something, Mamma," said Adrien quietly. "I +mean," she added hastily, "you lose touch with a lot of things and +people, friends. Now, for instance, you remember when we were all +children, boys and girls together, at the Public School, Annette +was one of the cleverest and best of the lot of us, I used to be +fond of her--and the others. Now--" + +"But you can't help growing up," said Rupert, "and--well, democracy +is all right and that sort of thing, but you must drift into your +class you know. There's Annette, for instance. She is a factory +hand, a fine girl of course, and all that, but--" + +"Oh, I suppose we must recognise facts. Rupert, you are quite +right," said Mrs. Templeton, "there must be social distinctions and +there are classes. I mean," she added, as if to forestall the +outburst she saw gathering behind her younger daughter's closed +lips, "we must inevitably draw to our own set by our natural or +acquired tastes and by our traditions and breeding." + +"All very well in England, Mamma. I suppose dear Uncle Arthur and +our dear cousins would hardly feel called upon to recognise Annette +as a friend." + +"Why should they?" challenged Rupert. + +"My dear Patricia," said her father, mildly patient, "you are quite +wrong. Our people at home, your uncle Arthur, I mean, and your +cousins, and all well-bred folk, do not allow class distinctions to +limit friendship. Friends are chosen on purely personal grounds of +real worth and--well, congeniality." + +"Would Uncle Arthur, or rather, Aunt Alicia have Annette to dinner, +for instance?" demanded Patricia. + +"Certainly not," said her mother promptly. + +"She would not do anything to embarrass Annette," said her father. + +"Oh, Dad, what a funk. That is quite unworthy of you." + +"Would she be asked here now to dinner?" said Rupert. "I mean," he +added in some confusion, "would it be, ah, suitable? You know what +I mean." + +"She has been here. Don't you remember, Mamma? She was often +here. And every time she came she was the cleverest thing, she was +the brightest, the most attractive girl in the bunch." Her +mother's eyebrows went up. "In the party, I mean. And the most +popular. Why, I remember quite well that Rupert was quite devoted +to her." + +"A mere child, she was then, you know," said Rupert. + +"She is just as bright, just as attractive, as clever now, more so +indeed, as fine a girl in every way. But of course she was not a +factory girl then. That's what you mean," replied Patricia +scornfully. + +"She has found her class," persisted Rupert. "She is all you say, +but surely--" + +"Yes, she is working in the new box factory. Her mother, lazy, +selfish thing, took her from the High School." + +"My dear Patricia, you are quite violent," protested her mother. + +"It's true, Mamma," continued the girl, her eyes agleam, "and now +she works in the box factory while Captain Jack works in the +planing mill. She is in the same class." + +"And good friends apparently," said Rupert with a malicious little +grin. + +"Why not? We would have Captain Jack to dinner, but not Annette." + +Her father smiled at her. "Well done, little girl. Annette is a +fine girl and is fortunate in her champion. You can have her to +dinner any evening, I am quite sure." + +"Can we, Mamma?" + +"My dear, we will not discuss the matter any further," said her +mother. "It is a very old question and very perplexing, I confess, +but--" + +"We don't see Captain Jack very much since his return," said her +father, turning the conversation. "You might begin with him, eh, +Patsy?" + +"No," said the girl, a shade falling on her face. "He is always +busy. He has such long hours. He works his day's work with the +men and then he always goes up to the office to his father--and-- +and--Oh, I don't know, I wish he would come. He's not--" Patricia +fell suddenly silent. + +"Jack is very much engaged," said her mother quietly. + +"Naturally he is tied up, learning the business, I mean," said the +elder sister quietly. "He has little time for mere social +frivolities and that sort of thing." + +"It's not that, Adrien," said Patricia. "He is different since he +came back. I wish--" She paused abruptly. + +"He is changed," said her mother with a sigh. "They--the boys are +all changed." + +"The war has left its mark upon them, and what else can we expect?" +said Dr. Templeton. "One wonders how they can settle down at all +to work." + +"Oh, Jack has settled down all right," said Patricia, as if +analysing a subject interesting to herself alone. "Jack's not like +a lot of them. He's too much settled down. What is it, I wonder? +He seems to have quit everything, dancing, tennis, golf. He +doesn't care--" + +"Doesn't care? What for? That sounds either as if he were an +egotist or a slacker." Her sister's words rasped Patricia's most +sensitive heart string. She visibly squirmed, eagerly waiting a +chance to reply. "Jack is neither," continued Adrien slowly. "I +understand the thing perfectly. He has been up against big things, +so big that everything else seems trivial. Fancy a tennis +tournament for a man that has stared into hell's mouth." + +"My dear, you are right," said her father. "Patricia is really +talking too much. Young people should--" + +"I know, Daddy--'be seen,'" said the younger daughter, and grinning +affectionately at him she blew him a kiss. "But, all the same, I +wish Captain Jack were not so awfully busy or were a little more +keen about things. He wants something to stir him up." + +"He may get that sooner than he thinks," said Stillwell, "or +wishes. I hear there's likely to be trouble in the mills." + +"Trouble? Financial? I should be very sorry," said Dr. Templeton. + +"No. Labour. The whole labour world is in a ferment. The +Maitlands can hardly expect to escape. As a matter of fact, the +row has made a little start, I happen to know." + +"These labour troubles are really very distressing. There is no +end to them," said Mrs. Templeton, with the resignation one shows +in discussing the inscrutable ways of Providence. "It does seem as +if the working classes to-day have got quite beyond all bounds. +One wonders what they will demand next. What is the trouble now, +Rupert? Of course--wages." + +"Oh, the eternal old trouble is there, with some new ones added +that make even wages seem small." + +"And what are these?" enquired Dr. Templeton. + +"Oh, division of profits, share in administration and control." + +"Division of profits in addition to wages?" enquired Mrs. Templeton, +aghast. "But, how dreadful. One would think they actually owned +the factory." + +"That is the modern doctrine, I believe," said Rupert. + +"Surely that is an extreme statement," said Dr. Templeton, in a +shocked voice, "or you are talking of the very radical element +only." + +"The Rads lead, of course, but you would be surprised at the +demands made to-day. Why, I heard a young chap last week, a soap- +box artist, denouncing all capitalists as parasites. 'Why should +we work for anyone but ourselves?' he was saying. 'Why don't we +take charge of the factories and run them for the general good?' +I assure you, sir, those were his very words." + +"Really, Rupert, you amaze me. In Blackwater here?" exclaimed Dr. +Templeton. + +"But, my dear papa, that sort of thing is the commonplace of Hyde +Park, you know," said Adrien, "and--" + +"Ah, Hyde Park, yes. I should expect that sort of thing from the +Hyde Park orators. You get every sort of mad doctrine in Hyde +Park, as I remember it, but--" + +"And I was going to say that that sort of thing has got away beyond +Hyde Park. Why, papa dear, you have been so engrossed in your +Higher Mathematics that you have failed to keep up with the times." +His eldest daughter smiled at him and, reaching across the corner +of the table, patted his hand affectionately. "We are away beyond +being shocked at profit sharing, and even sharing in control of +administration and that sort of thing." + +"But there remains justice, I hope," said her father, "and the +right of ownership." + +"Ah, that's just it--what is ownership?" + +"Oh, come, Adrien," said Rupert, "you are not saying that Mr. +Maitland doesn't own his factory and mill." + +"It depends on what you mean by own," said the girl coolly. "You +must not take too much for granted." + +"Well, what my money pays for I own, I suppose," said Rupert. + +"Well," said Adrien, "that depends." + +"My dear Adrien," said her mother, "you have such strange notions. +I suppose you got them in those Clubs in London and from those +queer people you used to meet." + +"Very dear people," said Adrien, with a far away look in her eyes, +"and people that loved justice and right." + +"All right, Ade," said her younger sister, with a saucy grin, "I +agree entirely with your sentiments. I just adore that pale blue +tie of yours. I suppose, now that what's yours is mine, I can +preempt that when I like." + +"Let me catch you at it!" + +"Well done, Patricia. You see the theories are all right till we +come to have them applied all round," said Rupert. + +"We were talking of joint ownership, Pat," said her sister, "the +joint ownership of things to the making of which we have each +contributed a part." + +"Exactly," said Rupert. "I guess Grant Maitland paid his own good +money for his plant." + +"Yes," said Adrien. + +"Yes, and all he paid for he owns." + +"Yes." + +"Well, that's all there is to it." + +"Oh, pardon me--there is a good deal more--" + +"Well, well, children, we shall not discuss the subject any +further. Shall we all go up for coffee?" + +"These are very radical views you are advancing, Adrien," said her +father, rising from his chair. "You must be careful not to say +things like that in circles where you might be taken seriously." + +"Seriously, Daddy? I was never more serious in my life." She put +her arm through her father's. "I must give you some books, some +reports to read, I see," she said, laughing up into his face. + +"Evidently," said her father, "if I am to live with you." + +"I wonder what Captain Jack would think of these views," said +Rupert, dropping into step with Patricia as they left the dining +room together. + +"He will think as Adrien does," said Patricia stoutly. + +"Ah, I wouldn't be too sure about that," said Rupert. "You see, it +makes a difference whose ox is being gored." + +"What do you mean?" cried Patricia hotly. + +"Never mind, Pat," said her sister over her shoulder. "I don't +think he knows Captain Jack as we do." + +"Perhaps better," said Rupert in a significant tone. + +Patricia drew away from him. + +"I think you are just horrid," she said. "Captain Jack is--" + +"Never mind, dear. Don't let him pull your leg like that," said +her sister, with a little colour in her cheek. "We know Captain +Jack, don't we?" + +"We do!" said Patricia with enthusiasm. + +"We do!" echoed Rupert, with a smile that drove Pat into a fury. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE + + +There was trouble at the Maitland Mills. For the first time in his +history Grant Maitland found his men look askance at him. For the +first time in his life he found himself viewing with suspicion the +workers whom he had always taken a pride in designating "my men." +The situation was at once galling to his pride and shocking to his +sense of fair play. His men were his comrades in work. He knew +them--at least, until these war days he had known them--personally, +as friends. They trusted him and were loyal to him, and he had +taken the greatest care to deal justly and more than justly by +them. No labour troubles had ever disturbed the relations which +existed between him and his men. It was thus no small shock when +Wickes announced one day that a Grievance Committee wished to +interview him. That he should have to meet a Grievance Committee, +whose boast it had been that the first man in the works to know of +a grievance was himself, and that the men with whom he had toiled +and shared both good fortune and ill, but more especially the good, +that had befallen through the last quarter century should have a +grievance against him--this was indeed an experience that cut him +to the heart and roused in him a fury of perplexed indignation. + +"A what? A Grievance Committee!" he exclaimed to Wickes, when the +old bookkeeper came announcing such a deputation. + +"That's what they call themselves, sir," said Wickes, his tone of +disgust disclaiming all association with any such organization. + +"A Grievance Committee?" said Mr. Maitland again. "Well, I'll be! +What do they want? Who are they? Bring them in," he roared in a +voice whose ascending tone indicated his growing amazement and +wrath. + +"Come in you," growled Wickes in the voice he generally used for +his collie dog, which bore a thoroughly unenviable reputation, +"come on in, can't ye?" + +There was some shuffling for place in the group at the door, but +finally Mr. Wigglesworth found himself pushed to the front of a +committee of five. With a swift glance which touched "the boss" +in its passage and then rested upon the wall, the ceiling, the +landscape visible through the window, anywhere indeed rather than +upon the face of the man against whom they had a grievance, they +filed in and stood ill at ease. + +"Well, Wigglesworth, what is it?" said Grant Maitland curtly. + +Mr. Wigglesworth cleared his throat. He was new at the business +and was obviously torn between conflicting emotions of pride in his +present important position and a wholesome fear of his "boss." +However, having cleared his throat, Mr. Wigglesworth pulled himself +together and with a wave of the hand began. + +"These 'ere--er--gentlemen an' myself 'ave been (h)appinted a +Committee to lay before you certain grievances w'ich we feel to be +very (h)oppressive, sir, so to speak, w'ich, an' meanin' no +offence, sir, as men, fellow-men, as we might say--" + +"What do you want, Wigglesworth? What's your trouble? You have +some trouble, what is it? Spit it out, man," said the boss +sharply. + +"Well, sir, as I was a-sayin', this 'ere's a Committee (h)appinted +to wait on you, sir, to lay before you certain facts w'ich we wish +you to consider an' w'ich, as British subjecks, we feel--" + +"Come, come, Wigglesworth, cut out the speech, and get at the +things. What do you want? Do you know? If so, tell me plainly +and get done with it." + +"We want our rights as men," said Mr. Wigglesworth in a loud voice, +"our rights as free men, and we demand to be treated as British--" + +"Is there anyone of this Committee that can tell me what you want +of me?" said Maitland. "You, Gilby, you have some sense--what is +the trouble? You want more wages, I suppose?" + +"I guess so," said Gilby, a long, lean man, Canadian born, of about +thirty, "but it ain't the wages that's eatin' me so much." + +"What then?" + +"It's that blank foreman." + +"Foreman?" + +"That's right, sir." "Too blanked smart!" "Buttin' in like a +blank billy goat!" The growls came in various undertones from the +Committee. + +"What foreman? Hoddle?" The boss was ready to fight for his +subalterns. + +"No! Old Hoddle's all right," said Gilby. "It's that young smart +aleck, Tony Perrotte." + +"Tony Perrotte!" Mr. Maitland's voice was troubled and uncertain. +"Tony Perrotte! Why, you don't mean to tell me that Perrotte is +not a good man. He knows his job from the ground up." + +"Knows too much," said Gilby. "Wants to run everything and +everybody. You can't tell him anything. And you'd think he was +a Brigadier-General to hear him giving us orders." + +"You were at the front, Gilby?" + +"I was, for three years." + +"You know what discipline is?" + +"I do that, and I know too the difference between a Corporal and a +Company Commander. I know an officer when I see him. But a brass +hat don't make a General." + +"I won't stand for insubordination in my mills, Gilby. You must +take orders from my foreman. You know me, Gilby. You've been long +enough with me for that." + +"You treat a man fair, Mr. Maitland, and I never kicked at your +orders. Ain't that so?" + +Maitland nodded. + +"But this young dude--" + +"'Dude'? What do you mean, 'dude'? He's no dude!" + +"Oh, he's so stuck on himself that he gives me the wearisome +willies. Look here, other folks has been to the war. He needn't +carry his chest like a blanked bay window." + +"Look here, Gilby, just quit swearing in this room." The cold blue +eyes bored into Gilby's hot face. + +"I beg pardon, sir. It's a bad habit I've got, but that--that Tony +Perrotte has got my goat and I'm through with him." + +"All right, Gilby. If you don't like your job you know what you +can do," said Maitland coldly. + +"You mean I can quit?" enquired Gilby hotly. + +"I mean there's only one boss in these works, and that's me. And +my foreman takes my orders and passes them along. Those that don't +like them needn't take them." + +"We demand our rights as--" began Mr. Wigglesworth heatedly. + +"Excuse me, sir. 'A should like to enquir-r-e if it is your-r +or-rder-rs that your-r for-r-man should use blasphemious language +to your-r men?" + +The cool, firm, rasping voice cut through Mr. Wigglesworth's +sputtering noise like a circular saw through a pine log. + +Mr. Maitland turned sharply upon the speaker. + +"What is your name, my man?" he enquired. + +"Ma name is Malcolm McNish. 'A doot ye have na har-r-d it. But +the name maitters little. It's the question 'A'm speerin'--asking +at ye." + +Here was no amateur in the business of Grievance Committees. His +manner was that of a self-respecting man dealing with a fellow-man +on terms of perfect equality. There was a complete absence of +Wigglesworth's noisy bluster, as also of Gilby's violent profanity. +He obviously knew his ground and was ready to hold it. He had a +case and was prepared to discuss it. There was no occasion for +heat or bluster or profanity. He was prepared to discuss the +matter, man to man. + +Mr. Maitland regarded him for a moment or two with keen steady +gaze. + +"Where do you work, McNish?" he enquired of the Scot. + +"A'm workin' the noo in the sawmill. A'm a joiner to trade." + +"Then Perrotte is not your foreman?" + +"That is true," said McNish quietly. + +"Then personally you have no grievance against him?" Mr. Maitland +had the air of a man who has scored a bull at the first shot. + +"Ay, A have an' the men tae--the men I represent have--" + +"And you assume to speak for them?" + +"They appoint me to speak for them." + +"And their complaint is--?" + +"Their complaint is that he is no fit to be a foreman." + +"Ah, indeed! And you are here solely on their word--" + +"No, not solely, but pairtly. A know by experience and A hae +har-r-d the man, and he's no fit for his job, A'm tellin' you." + +"I suppose you know the qualifications of a foreman, McNish?" +enquired Mr. Maitland with the suspicion of sarcasm in his voice. + +"Ay, A do that." + +"And how, may I ask, have you come to the knowledge?" + +"A dinna see--I do not see the bearing of the question." + +"Only this, that you and those you represent place your judgment +as superior to mine in the choice of a foreman. It would be +interesting to know upon what grounds." + +"I have been a foreman myself. But there are two points of view in +this question--the point of view of the management and that of the +worker. We have the one point of view, you have the other. And +each has its value. Ours is the more important." + +"Indeed! And why, pray?" + +"Yours has chiefly to do with profits, ours with human life." + +"Very interesting indeed," said Mr. Maitland, "but it happens that +profits and human life are somewhat closely allied--" + +"Aye, but wi' you profits are the primary consideration and +humanity the secondary. Wi' us humanity is the primary." + +"Very interesting, indeed. But I must decline your premise. You +are a new man here and so I will excuse you the impudence of +charging me with indifference to the well-being of my men." + +"You put wur-r-ds in my mouth, Mr. Maitland. A said nae sic +thing," said McNish. "But your foreman disna' know his place, and +he must be changed." + +"'Must,' eh?" The word had never been used to Mr. Maitland since +his own father fifty years before had used it. It was an +unfortunate word for the success of the interview. "'Must,' eh?" +repeated Mr. Maitland with rising wrath. "I'd have you know, +McNish, that the man doesn't live that says 'must' to me in regard +to the men I choose to manage my business." + +"Then you refuse to remove yere foreman?" + +"Most emphatically, I do," said Mr. Maitland with glints of fire in +his blue eyes. + +"Verra weel, so as we know yere answer. There is anither matter." + +"Yes? Well, be quick about it." + +"A wull that. Ye dinna pay yere men enough wages." + +"How do you know I don't?" said Mr. Maitland rising from his chair. + +"A have examined certain feegures which I shall be glad to submit +tae ye, in regard tae the cost o' leevin' since last ye fixed the +wage. If yere wage was right then, it's wrang the noo." Under the +strain Mr. Maitland's boring eyes and increasing impatience the +Doric flavour of McNish's speech grew richer and more guttural, +varying with the intensity of his emotion. + +"And what may these figures be?" enquired Mr. Maitland with a voice +of contempt. + +"These are the figures prepared by the Labour Department of your +Federal Government. I suppose they may be relied upon. They show +the increased cost of living during the last five years. You know +yeresel' the increase in wages. Mr. Maitland, I am told ye are a +just man, an' we ask ye tae dae the r-r-right. That's all, sir." + +"Thank you for your good opinion, my man. Whether I am a just man +or not is for my own conscience alone. As to the wage question, +Mr. Wickes will tell you, the matter had already been taken up. +The result will be announced in a week or so." + +"Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir," said Mr. Wigglesworth. "We felt +sure it would only be necessary to point (h)out the right course to +you. I may say I took the same (h)identical (h)attitude with my +fellow workmen. I sez to them, sez I, 'Mr. Maitland--' + +"That will do, Wigglesworth," said Mr. Maitland, cutting him short. +"Have you anything more to say?" he continued, turning to McNish. + +"Nothing, sir, except to express the hope that you will reconsider +yere attitude as regards the foreman." + +"You may take my word for it, I will not," said Mr. Maitland, +snapping his words off with his teeth. + +"At least, as a fair-minded man, you will look into the matter," +said McNish temperately. + +"I shall do as I think best," said Mr. Maitland. + +"It would be wiser." + +"Do you threaten me, sir?" Mr. Maitland leaned over his desk +toward the calm and rugged Scot, his eyes flashing indignation. + +"Threaten ye? Na, na, threats are for bairns. Yere no a bairn, +but a man an' a wise man an' a just, A doot. A'm gie'in' ye +advice. That's all. Guid day." + +He turned away from the indignant Mr. Maitland, put his hat on his +head and walked from the room, followed by the other members of the +Committee, with the exception of Mr. Wigglesworth who lingered with +evidently pacific intentions. + +"This, sir, is a most (h)auspicious (h)era, sir. The (h)age of +reason and justice 'as dawned, an'--" + +"Oh, get out, Wigglesworth. Haven't you made all your speeches +yet? The time for the speeches is past. Good day." + +He turned to his bookkeeper. + +"Wickes, bring me the reports turned in by Perrotte, at once." + +Mr. Maitland's manner was frankly, almost brutally, imperious. It +was not his usual manner with his subordinates, from which it may +be gathered that Mr. Maitland was seriously disturbed. And with +good reason. In the first place, never in his career had one of +his men addressed him in the cool terms of equality which McNish +had used with him in the recent interview. Then, never had he been +approached by a Grievance Committee. The whole situation was new, +irritating, humiliating. + +As to the wages question, he would settle that without difficulty. +He had never skimped the pay envelope. It annoyed him, however, +that he had been forstalled in the matter by this Committee. But +very especially he was annoyed by the recollection of the +deliberative, rasping tones of that cool-headed Scot, who had so +calmly set before him his duty. But the sting of the interview lay +in the consciousness that the criticism of his foreman was probably +just. And then, he was tied to Tony Perrotte by bonds that reached +his heart. Had it not been so, he would have made short work of +the business. As it was, Tony would have to stay at all costs. +Mr. Maitland sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed upon the Big +Bluff visible through the window, but his mind lingering over a +picture that had often gripped hard at his heart during the last +two years, a picture drawn for him in a letter from his remaining +son, Jack. The letter lay in the desk at his hand. He saw in the +black night that shell-torn strip of land between the lines, black +as a ploughed field, lurid for a swift moment under the red glare +of a bursting shell or ghastly in the sickly illumination of a +Verry light, and over this black pitted earth a man painfully +staggering with a wounded man on his back. The words leaped to his +eyes. "He brought me out of that hell, Dad." He closed his eyes +to shut out that picture, his hands clenched on the arms of his +chair. + +"No," he said, raising his hand in solemn affirmation, "as the Lord +God liveth, while I stay he stays." + +"Come in," he said, in answer to a timid tap at the office door. +Mr. Wickes laid a file before him. It needed only a rapid survey +of the sheets to give him the whole story. Incompetence and worse, +sheer carelessness looked up at him from every sheet. The planing +mill was in a state of chaotic disorganization. + +"What does this mean, Mr. Wickes?" he burst forth, putting his +finger upon an item that cried out mismanagement and blundering. +"Here is an order that takes a month to clear which should be done +within ten days at the longest." + +Wickes stood silent, overwhelmed in dismayed self-condemnation. + +"It seems difficult somehow to get orders through, sir, these +days," he said after a pause. + +"Difficult? What is the difficulty? The men are there, the +machines are there, the material is in the yard. Why the delay? +And look at this. Here is a lot of material gone to the scrap +heap, the finest spruce ever grown in Canada too. What does this +mean, Wickes?" he seemed to welcome the opportunity of finding a +scapegoat for economic crimes, for which he could find no pardon. + +Sheet after sheet passed in swift review under his eye. Suddenly +he flung himself back in his chair. + +"Wickes, this is simply damnable!" + +"Yes, sir," said Wickes, his face pale and his fingers trembling. +"I don't--I don't seem to be able to--to--get things through." + +"Get things through? I should say not," shouted Maitland, glaring +at him. + +"I have tried, I mean I'm afraid I'm--that I am not quite up to it, +as I used to be. I get confused--and--" The old bookkeeper's lips +were white and quivering. He could not get on with his story. + +"Here, take these away," roared Maitland. + +Gathering up the sheets with fingers that trembled helplessly, +Wickes crept hurriedly out through the door, leaving a man behind +him furiously, helplessly struggling in the relentless grip of his +conscience, lashed with a sense of his own injustice. His anger +which had found vent upon his old bookkeeper he knew was due +another man, a man with whom at any cost he could never allow +himself to be angry. The next two hours were bad hours for Grant +Maitland. + +As the quitting whistle blew a tap came again to the office door. +It was Wickes, with a paper in his hand. Without a word he laid +the paper upon his chief's desk and turned away. Maitland glanced +over it rapidly. + +"Wickes, what does this nonsense mean?" His chief's voice arrested +him. He turned again to the desk. + +"I don't think--I have come to feel, sir, that I am not able for my +job. I do not see as how I can go on." Maitland's brows frowned +upon the sheet. Slowly he picked up the paper, tore it across and +tossed it into the waste basket. + +"Wickes, you are an old fool--and," he added in a voice that grew +husky, "I am another and worse." + +"But, sir--" began Wickes, in hurried tones. + +"Oh, cut it all out, Wickes," said Maitland impatiently. "You know +I won't stand for that. But what can we do? He saved my boy's +life--" + +"Yes, sir, and he was with my Stephen at the last, and--" The old +man's voice suddenly broke. + +"I remember, Wickes, I remember. And that's another reason-- We +must find another way out." + +"I have been thinking, sir," said the bookkeeper timidly, "if you +had a younger man in my place--" + +"You would go out, eh? I believe on my soul you would. You--you-- +old fool. But," said Maitland, reaching his hand across the desk, +"I don't go back on old friends that way." + +The two men stood facing each other for a few minutes, with hands +clasped, Maitland's face stern and set, Wickes' working in a +pitiful effort to stay the tears that ran down his cheeks, to choke +back the sobs that shook his old body as if in the grip of some +unseen powerful hand. + +"We must find a way," said Maitland, when he felt sure of his +voice. "Some way, but not that way. Sit down. We must go through +this together." + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE FOREMAN + + +Grant Maitlands business instincts and training were such as to +forbid any trifling with loose management in any department of his +plant. He was, moreover, too just a man to allow any of his +workmen to suffer for failures not their own. His first step was +to get at the facts. His preliminary move was characteristic of +him. He sent for McNish. + +"McNish," he said, "your figures I have examined. They tell me +nothing I did not know, but they are cleverly set down. The matter +of wages I shall deal with as I have always dealt with it in my +business. The other matter--" Mr. Maitland paused, then proceeded +with grave deliberation, "I must deal with in my own way. It will +take a little time. I shall not delay unnecessarily, but I shall +accept dictation from no man as to my methods." + +McNish stood silently searching his face with steady eyes. + +"You are a new man here, and I find you are a good workman," +continued Mr. Maitland. "I dont know you nor your aims and +purposes in this Grievance Committee business of yours. If you +want a steady job with a chance to get on, you will get both; if +you want trouble, you can get that too, but not for long, here." + +Still the Scot held him with grave steady gaze, but speaking no +word. + +"You understand me, McNish?" said Maitland, nettled at the mans +silence. + +"Aye, Ave got a heid," he said in an impassive voice. + +"Well, then, I hope you will govern yourself accordingly. Good- +day," said Maitland, closing the interview. + +McNish still stood immovable. + +"Thats all I have to say," said Maitland, glancing impatiently at +the man. + +"But its no all A have to say, if ye will pairmit me," answered +McNish in a voice quiet and respectful and apparently, except for +its Doric flavour, quite untouched by emotion of any kind soever. + +"Go on," said Maitland shortly, as the Scot stood waiting. + +"Maister Maitland," said McNish, rolling out a deeper Doric, "ye +have made a promise and a threat. Yere threat is naething tae me. +As tae yere job, A want it and A want tae get on, but Am a free +man the noo an a free man A shall ever be. Good-day tae ye." He +bowed respectfully to his employer and strode from the room. + +Mr. Maitland sat looking at the closed door. + +"He is a man, that chap, at any rate," he said to himself, "but +whats his game, I wonder. He will bear watching." + +The very next day Maitland made a close inspection of his plant, +beginning with the sawmill. He found McNish running one of the +larger circular saws, and none too deftly. He stood observing the +man for some moments in silence. Then stepping to the workmans +side he said, + +"You will save time, I think, if you do it this way." He seized +the levers and, eliminating an unnecessary movement, ran the log. +McNish stood calmly observing. + +"Aye, yere r-right," he said. "Yell have done yon before." + +"You just bet I have," said Maitland, not a little pleased with +himself. + +"Am no saw man," said McNish, a little sullenly. "A dinna ken--I +don't know saws of this sort. I'm a joiner. He put me off the +bench." + +"Who?" said Maitland quickly. + +"Yon manny," replied McNish with unmistakable disgust. + +"You were on the bench, eh? What sort of work were you on?" + +"A was daein' a bit counter work. A wasna fast enough for him." + +Mr. Maitland called the head sawyer. + +"Put a man on here for a while, Powell, will you? You come with +me, McNish." + +Together they went into the planing mill. Asking for the foreman +he found that he was nowhere to be seen, that indeed he had not +been in the mill that morning. + +"Show me your work, McNish," he said. + +McNish led him to a corner of the mill where some fine counter work +was in process. + +"That's my work," he said, pointing to a piece of oak railing. + +Maitland, turning the work over in his hands, ran his finger along +a joint somewhat clumsily fitted. + +"Not that," said McNish hastily. "Ma work stops here." + +Again Maitland examined the rail. His experienced eye detected +easily the difference in the workmanship. + +"Is there anything else of yours about here?" he asked. McNish +went to a pile of finished work and from it selected a small swing +door beautifully panelled. Maitland's eye gleamed. + +"Ah, that's better," he said. "Yes, that's better." + +He turned to one of the workmen at the bench near by. + +"What job is this, Gibbon?" he asked. + +"It's the Bank job, I think," said Gibbon. + +"What? The Merchants' Bank job? Surely that can't be. That job +was due two weeks ago." Maitland turned impatiently toward an +older man. "Ellis," he said sharply, "do you know what job this +is?" + +Ellis came and turned over the different parts of the work. + +"That's the Merchants' Bank job, sir," he said. + +"Then what is holding this up?" enquired Maitland wrathfully. + +"It's the turned work, I think, sir. I am not sure, but I think I +heard Mr. Perrotte asking about that two or three days ago." Mr. +Maitland's lips met in a thin straight line. + +"You can go back to your saw, McNish," he said shortly. + +"Ay, sir," said McNish, his tone indicating quiet satisfaction. +At Gibbon's bench he paused. "Ye'll no pit onything past him, a +doot," he said, with a grim smile, and passed out. + +In every part of the shop Mr. Maitland found similar examples of +mismanagement and lack of co-ordination in the various departments +of the work. It needed no more than a cursory inspection to +convince him that a change of foreman was a simple necessity. +Everywhere he found not only evidence of waste of time but also of +waste of material. It cut him to the heart to see beautiful wood +mangled and ruined. All his life he had worked with woods of +different kinds. He knew them standing in all their matchless +grandeur, in the primeval forest and had followed them step by step +all the way to the finished product. Never without a heart pang +did he witness a noble white pine, God's handiwork of centuries, +come crashing to earth through the meaner growth beneath the +chopper's axe. The only thing that redeemed such a deed from +sacrilege, in his mind, was to see the tree fittingly transformed +into articles of beauty and worth suitable for man's use. Hence, +when he saw lying here and there deformed and disfigured fragments +of the exquisitely grained white spruce, which during the war, he +had with such care selected for his aeroplane parts, his very heart +rose in indignant wrath. And filled with this wrath he made his +way to the office and straightway summoned Wickes and his son Jack +to conference. + +"Tony will never make a worker in wood. He cares nothing for it," +he said bitterly. + +"Nor in anything else, Dad," said Jack, with a little laugh. + +"You laugh, but it is no laughing matter," said his father +reproachfully. + +"I am sorry, Father, but you know I always thought it was a mistake +to put Tony in charge of anything. Why, he might have had his +commission if he were not such an irresponsible, downwright lazy +beggar. What he needs, as my Colonel used to profanely say, is 'a +good old-fashioned Sergeant-Major to knock hell out of him'. And, +believe me, Tony was a rattling fine soldier if his officer would +regularly, systematically and effectively expel his own special +devil from his system. He needs that still." + +"What can we do with him? I simply can't and won't dismiss him, as +that infernally efficient and coolheaded Scot demands. You heard +about the Grievance Committee?" + +"Oh, the town has the story with embellishments. Rupert Stillwell +took care to give me a picturesque account. But I would not +hesitate, Dad. Kick Tony a good swift kick once a week or so, or, +if that is beneath your dignity, fire him." + +"But, Jack, lad, we can't do that," said his father, greatly +distressed, "after what--" + +"Why not? He carried me out of that hell all right, and while I +live I shall remember that. But he is a selfish beggar. He hasn't +the instinct for team play. He hasn't the idea of responsibility +for the team. He gets so that he can not make himself do what he +just doesn't feel like doing. He doesn't care a tinker's curse for +the other fellows in the game with him." + +"The man that doesn't care for other fellows will never make a +foreman," said Mr. Maitland decisively. "But can't something be +done with him?" + +"There's only one way to handle Tony," said Jack. "I learned that +long ago in school. He was a prince of half-backs, you know, but I +had regularly to kick him about before every big match. Oh, Tony +is a fine sort but he nearly broke my heart till I nearly broke his +back." + +"That does not help much, Jack." For the first time in his life +Grant Maitland was at a loss as to how he should handle one of his +men. Were it not for the letter in the desk at his hand he would +have made short work of Tony Perrotte. But there the letter lay +and in his heart the inerasible picture it set forth. + +"What is the special form that Tony's devilment has taken, may I +ask?" enquired Jack. + +"Well, I may say to you, what Wickes knows and has known and has +tried for three months to hide from me and from himself, Tony has +made about as complete a mess of the organization under his care in +the planing mill as can be imagined. The mill is strewn with the +wreckage of unfulfilled orders. He has no sense of time value. +To-morrow is as good as to-day, next week as this week. A foreman +without a sense of time value is no good. And he does not value +material. Waste to him is nothing. Another fatal defect. The man +to whom minutes are not potential gold and material potential +product can never hope to be a manufacturer. If only I had not +been away from home! But the thing is, what is to be done?" + +"In the words of a famous statesman much abused indeed, I suggest, +'Wait and see.' Meantime, find some way of kicking him into his +job." + +This proved to be in the present situation a policy of wisdom. It +was Tony himself who furnished the solution. From the men supposed +to be working under his orders he learned the day following +Maitland's visit of inspection something of the details of that +visit. He quickly made up his mind that the day of reckoning could +not long be postponed. None knew better than Tony himself that he +was no foreman; none so well that he loathed the job which had been +thrust upon him by the father of the man whom he had carried out +from the very mouth of hell. It was something to his credit that +he loathed himself for accepting the position. Yet, with +irresponsible procrastination, he put off the day of reckoning. +But, some ten days later, and after a night with some kindred +spirits of his own Battalion, a night prolonged into the early +hours of the working day, Tony presented himself at the office, +gay, reckless, desperate, but quite compos mentis and quite master +of his means of locomotion. + +He appeared in the outer office, still in his evening garb. + +"Mr. Wickes," he said in solemn gravity, "please have your +stenographer take this letter." + +Mr. Wickes, aghast, strove to hush his vibrant tones, indicating in +excited pantomime the presence of the chief in the inner office. +He might as effectively have striven to stay the East wind at that +time sweeping up the valley. + +"Are you ready, my dear?" said Tony, smiling pleasantly at the +girl. "All right, proceed. 'Dear Mr. Maitland:' Got that? +'Conscious of my unfitness for the position of foreman in--'" + +"Hush, hush, Tony," implored Mr. Wickes. + +Tony waved him aside. + +"What have you got, eh?" + +At that point the door opened and Grant Maitland stepped into the +office. Tony rose to his feet and, bowing with elaborate grace and +dignity, he addressed his chief. + +"Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you, in fact, I wanted to +see you but wishing to save your time I was in the very act of +dictating a communication to you." + +"Indeed, Tony?" said Mr. Maitland gravely. + +"Yes, sir, I was on the point of dictating my resignation of my +position of foreman." + +"Step in to the office, Tony," said Mr. Maitland kindly and sadly. + +"I don't wish to take your time, sir," said Tony, sobered and +quieted by Mr. Maitland's manner, "but my mind is quite made up. +I--" + +"Come in," said Mr. Maitland, in a voice of quiet command, throwing +open his office door. "I wish to speak to you." + +"Oh, certainly, sir," answered Tony, pulling himself together with +an all too obvious effort. + +In half an hour Tony came forth, a sober and subdued man. + +"Good-bye, Wickes," he said, "I'm off." + +"Where are you going, Tony?" enquired Wickes, startled at the look +on Tony's face. + +"To hell," he snapped, "where such fools as me belong," and, +jamming his hat hard down on his head, he went forth. + +In another minute Mr. Maitland appeared at the office door. + +"Wickes," he said sharply, "put on your hat and get Jack for me. +Bring him, no matter what he's at. That young fool who has just +gone out must be looked after. The boot-leggers have been taking +him in tow. If I had only known sooner. Did you know, Wickes, how +he has been going on? Why didn't you report to me?" + +"I hesitated to do that, sir," putting his desk in order. "I +always expected as how he would pull up. It's his company, sir. +He is not so much to blame." + +"Well, he would not take anything I had to offer. He is wild to +get away. And unfortunately he has some money with him, too. But +get Jack for me. He can handle him if anybody can." + +Sorely perplexed Mr. Maitland returned to his office. His business +sense pointed the line of action with sunlight clearness. His +sense of justice to the business for which he was responsible as +well as to the men in his employ no less clearly indicated the +action demanded. His sane judgment concurred in the demand of his +men for the dismissal of his foreman. Dismissal had been rendered +unnecessary by Tony's unshakable resolve to resign his position +which he declared he loathed and which he should never have +accepted. His perplexity arose from the confusion within himself. +What should he do with Tony? He had no position in his works or in +the office for which he was fit. None knew this better than Tony +himself. + +"It's a joke, Mr. Maitland," he had declared, "a ghastly joke. +Everybody knows it's a joke, that I should be in command of any man +when I can't command myself. Besides, I can't stick it." In this +resolve he had persisted in spite of Mr. Maitland's entreaties that +he should give the thing another try, promising him all possible +guidance and backing. But entreaties and offers of assistance had +been in vain. Tony was wild to get away from the mill. He hated +the grind. He wanted his freedom. Vainly Mr. Maitland had offered +to find another position for him somewhere, somehow. + +"We'll find a place in the office for you," he had pleaded. "I +want to see you get on, Tony. I want to see you make good." + +But Tony was beyond all persuasion. + +"It isn't in me," he had declared. "Not if you gave me the whole +works could I stick it." + +"Take a few days to think it over," Mr. Maitland had pleaded. + +"I know myself--only too well. Ask Jack, he knows," was Tony's +bitter answer. "And that's final." + +"No, Tony, it is not final," had been Mr. Maitland's last word, as +Tony had left him. + +But after the young man had left him there still remained the +unsolved question, What was he to do with Tony? In Mr. Maitland's +heart was the firm resolve that he would not allow Tony to go his +own way. The letter in the desk at his hand forbade that. + +At his wits' end he had sent for Jack. Jack had made a football +half-back and a hockey forward out of Tony when everyone else had +failed. If anyone could divert him from that desperate downward +course to which he seemed headlong bent, it was Jack. + +In a few minutes Wickes returned with the report that on receiving +an account of what had happened Jack had gone to look up Tony. + +Mr. Maitland drew a breath of relief. + +"Tony is all right for to-day," he said, turning to his work and +leaving the problem for the meantime to Jack. + +In an hour Jack reported that he had been to the Perrotte home and +had interviewed Tony's mother. From her he had learned that Tony +had left the town, barely catching the train to Toronto. He might +not return for a week or ten days. He could set no time for it. +He was his own master as to time. He had got to the stage where he +could go and come pretty much as he pleased. The mother was not at +all concerned as to these goings and comings of her son. He had an +assured position, all cause for anxiety in regard to him was at an +end. Tony's mother was obviously not a little uplifted that her +son should be of sufficient importance to be entrusted with +business in Toronto in connection with the mill. + +All of which tended little toward relieving the anxiety of Mr. +Maitland. + +"Let him take his swing, Dad, for a bit," was Jack's advice. "He +will come back when he is ready, and until then wild horses won't +bring him nor hold him. He is no good for his old job, and you +have no other ready that he will stick at. He has no Sergeant- +Major now to knock him about and make him keep step, more's the +pity." + +"Life will be his Sergeant-Major, I fear," said his father, "and a +Sergeant-Major that will exact the utmost limit of obedience or +make him pay the price. All the same, we won't let him go. I +can't Jack, anyway." + +"Oh, Tony will turn up, never fear, Dad," said Jack easily. + +With this assurance his father had to content himself. In a +fortnight's time a letter came from Tony to his sister, rosy with +the brilliance of the prospects opening up before him. There was +the usual irresponsible indefiniteness in detail. What he was +doing and how he was living Tony did not deign to indicate. Ten +days later Annette had another letter. The former prospects had not +been realised, but he had a much better thing in view, something +more suitable to him, and offering larger possibilities of position +and standing in the community. So much Annette confided to her +mother who passed on the great news with elaborations and +annotations to Captain Jack. To Captain Jack himself Annette gave +little actual information. Indeed, shorn of its element of +prophecy, there was little in Tony's letter that could be passed on. +Nor did Annette drop any hint but that all was quite well with her +brother, much less that he had suggested a temporary loan of fifty +dollars but only of course if she could spare the amount with +perfect convenience. After this letter there was silence as far as +Tony was concerned and for Annette anxiety that deepened into agony +as the silence remained unbroken with the passing weeks. + +With the anxiety there mingled in Annette's heart anger at the +Maitlands, for she blamed them for Tony's dismissal from his +position. This, it is fair to say, was a reflection from her +mother's wrath, whose mind had been filled up with rumours from the +mills to the effect that her son had been "fired." Annette was +wise enough and knew her brother well enough to discredit much that +rumour brought to her ears, but she could not rid herself of the +thought that a way might have been found to hold Tony about the +mills. + +"He fired the boy, did the ould carmudgeon," said Madame Perrotte +in one of her rages, "and druv him off from the town." + +"Nonsense, Mother," Annette had replied, "you know well enough Tony +left of his own accord. Why should you shame him so? He went +because he wanted to go." + +This was a new light upon the subject for her mother. + +"Thrue for you, Annette, gurl," she said, "an' ye said it that +time. But why for did he not induce the bye to remain? It would +be little enough if he had made him the Manager of the hull works. +That same would never pay back what he did for his son." + +"Hush, Mother," said Annette, in a shocked and angry voice, "let no +one hear you speak like that. Pay back! You know, Mother, nothing +could ever pay back a thing like that." The anger in her daughter's +voice startled the mother. + +"Oui! by gar!" said Perrotte, who had overheard, with quick wrath. +"Dat's foolish talk for sure! Dere's no man can spik lak dat to +me, or I choke him on his fool t'roat, me." + +"Right you are, mon pere!" said Annette appeasing her father. +"Mother did not think what she was saying." + +"Dat's no bon," replied Perrotte, refusing to be appeased. "Sacre +tonnerre! Dat's one--what you call?--damfool speech. Dat boy Tony +he's carry (h)on hees back his friend, le Capitaine Jack, an' le +Capitaine, he's go five mile for fin' Tony on' de shell hole an' +fetch heem to le docteur and stay wit' him till he's fix (h)up. +Nom de Dieu! You pay for dat! Mama! You mak' shame for me on my +heart!" cried the old Frenchman, beating his breast, while sobs +shook his voice. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +FREE SPEECH + + +Fifty years ago Blackwater town was a sawmill village on the +Blackwater River which furnished the power for the first little +sawmill set up by Grant Maitland's father. + +Down the river came the sawlogs in the early spring when the water +was high, to be caught and held by a "boom" in a pond from which +they were hauled up a tramway to the saw. A quarter of a mile up +stream a mill race, tapping the river, led the water to an "overshot +wheel" in the early days, later to a turbine, thus creating the +power necessary to drive the mill machinery. When the saw was still +the water overflowed the "stop-logs" by the "spillway" into the pond +below. + +But that mill race furnished more than power to the mill. It +furnished besides much colourful romance to the life of the village +youth of those early days. For down the mill race they ran their +racing craft, jostling and screaming, urging with long poles their +laggard flotillas to victory. The pond by the mill was to the boys +"swimming hole" and fishing pool, where, during the long summer +evenings and through the sunny summer days, they spent amphibious +hours in high and serene content. But in springtime when the pond +was black with floating logs it became the scene of thrilling deeds +of daring. For thither came the lumber-jacks, fresh from "the +shanties," in their dashing, multi-colored garb, to "show off" +before admiring friends and sweethearts their skill in "log- +running" and "log-rolling" contests which as the spirit of venture +grew would end like as not in the icy waters of the pond. + +Here, too, on brilliant winter days the life of the village found +its centre of vivid interest and activity. For then the pond would +be a black and glittering surface whereon wheeled and curved the +ringing, gleaming blades of "fancy" skaters or whereon in sterner +hours opposing "shinny" teams sought glory in Homeric and often +gory contest. + +But those days and those scenes were now long since gone. The old +mill stood a picturesque ruin, the water wheel had given place to +the steam engine, the pond had shrunk to an insignificant pool +where only pollywogs and minnows passed unadventurous lives, the +mill race had dwindled to a trickling stream grown thick with +watercress and yellow lilies, and what had once been the centre of +vigorous and romantic life was now a back water eddy devoid alike +of movement and of colour. + +A single bit of life remained--the little log cottage, once the +Manager's house a quarter of a century ago, still stood away up +among the pines behind the old mill ruin and remote from the +streets and homes of the present town. At the end of a little +grassy lane it stood, solid and square, resisting with its well +hewn pinelogs the gnawing tooth of time. Abandoned by the growing +town, forgotten by the mill owner, it was re-discovered by Malcolm +McNish, or rather by his keen eyed old mother on their arrival from +the old land six months ago. For a song McNish bought the solid +little cottage, he might have had it as a gift but that he would +not, restored its roof, cleared out its stone chimney which, more +than anything else, had caught the mother's eye, re-set the window +panes, added a wee cunning porch, gave its facings a coat of paint, +enclosed its bit of flower garden in front and its "kale yaird" in +the rear with a rustic paling, and made it, when the Summer had +done its work, a bonnie homelike spot which caught the eye and held +the heart of the passer-by. + +The interior more than fulfilled the promise of the exterior. The +big living room with its great stone fireplace welcomed you on +opening the porch door. From the living room on the right led two +doors, each giving entrance to a tiny bedroom and flanking a larger +room known as "the Room." + +Within the living room were gathered the household treasures, the +Lares and Penates of the little stone rose-covered cottage "at hame +awa' ayont the sea." On the mantel a solid hewn log of oak, a +miracle of broad-axe work, were "bits o' chiny" rarely valuable as +antiques to the knowing connoisseur but beyond price to the old +white-haired lady who daily dusted them with reverent care as +having been borne by her mother from the Highland home in the far +north country when as a bride she came by the "cadger's cairt" to +her new home in the lonely city of Glasgow. Of that Glasgow home +and of her own home later the walls of the log cottage were +eloquent. + +The character giving bit of furniture, however, in the living room +was a book-case that stood in a corner. Its beautiful inlaid +cabinet work would in itself have attracted attention, but not the +case but the books were its distinction. The great English poets +were represented there in serviceable bindings showing signs of +use, Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Browning, Keats, and with +them in various editions, Burns. Beside the poets Robert Louis had +a place, and Sir Walter, as well as Kipling and Meredith and other +moderns. But on the shelf that showed most wear were to be found +the standard works of economists of different schools from the +great Adam Smith to Marx and the lot of his imitators and disciples. +This was Malcolm's book-case. There was in another corner near the +fire-place a little table and above it hung a couple of shelves for +books of another sort, the Bible and The Westminster Confession, +Bunyan and Baxter and Fox's Book of Martyrs, Rutherford and McCheyne +and Law, The Ten Years' Conflict, Spurgeon's Sermons and Smith's +Isaiah, and a well worn copy of the immortal Robbie. This was the +mother's corner, a cosy spot where she nourished her soul by +converse with the great masters of thought and of conscience. + +In this "cosy wee hoosie" Malcolm McNish and his mother passed +their quiet evenings, for the days were given to toil, in talk, not +to say discussion of the problems, the rights and wrongs of the +working man. They agreed in much; they differed, and strongly, in +point of view. The mother was all for reform of wrongs with the +existing economic system, reverencing the great Adam Smith. The +son was for a new deal, a new system, the Socialistic, with +modifications all his own. All, or almost all, that Malcolm had +read the mother had read with the exception of Marx. She "cudna +thole yon godless loon" or his theories or his works. Malcolm had +grown somewhat sick of Marx since the war. Indeed, the war had +seriously disturbed the foundations of Malcolm's economic faith, +and he was seeking a readjustment of his opinion and convictions, +which were rather at loose ends. In this state of mind he found +little comfort from his shrewd old mother. + +"Y'e have nae anchor, laddie, and ilka woof of air and ilka turn o' +the tide and awa' ye go." + +As for her anchor, she made no bones of announcing that she had +been brought up on the Shorter Catechism and the Confession and in +consequence found a place for every theory of hers, Social and +Economic as well as Ethical and Religious, within the four corners +of the mighty fabric of the Calvinistic system of Philosophy and +Faith. + +One of the keen joys of her life since coming to the new country +she found in her discussions with the Rev. Murdo Matheson, whom, +after some considerable hesitation, she had finally chosen to "sit +under." The Rev. Murdo's theology was a little narrow for her. +She had been trained in the schools of the Higher Critics of the +Free Kirk leaders at home. She talked familiarly of George Adam +Smith, whom she affectionately designated as "George Adam." She +would wax wrathful over the memory of the treatment meted out to +Robertson Smith by a former generation of Free Kirk heresy hunters. +Hence she regarded with pity the hesitation with which her Minister +accepted some of the positions of the Higher Critics. Although it +is to be confessed that the war had somewhat rudely shattered her +devotion to German theology. + +"What d'ye think o' yere friend Harnack the noo?" her son had jibed +at her soon after the appearance of the great manifesto from the +German professors. + +"What do A think o' him?" she answered, sparring for time. "What +do A think o' him?" Then, as her eye ran over her son's uniform, +for he was on leave at the time, she blazed forth, "A'll tell ye +what A think o' him. A think that Auld Hornie has his hook intil +him and the hale kaboodle o' them. They hae forsaken God and made +tae themselves ither gods and the Almichty hae gi'en them ower tae +a reprobate mind." + +But her Canadian Minister's economic positions satisfied her. He +had specialised in Social and Economic Science in his University +Course and she considered him sound "in the main." + +She had little patience with half baked theorists and none at all +with mere agitators. It was therefore with no small indignation +that she saw on a Sunday morning Mr. Wigglesworth making his way up +the lane toward her house door. + +"The Lord be guid tae us!" she exclaimed. "What brings yon cratur +here--and on a Sabbath mornin'? Mind you, Malcolm," she continued +in a voice of sharp decision, "A'll hae nane o' his 'rights o' +British citizens' clack the morn." + +"Who is it, Mother?" enquired her son, coming from his room to look +out through the window. "Oh, dinna fash ye're heid ower yon +windbag," he added, dropping into his broadest Doric and patting +his mother on the shoulder. + +"He disna fash me," said his mother. "Nae fears. But A'll no +pairmit him to brak the Sabbath in this hoose, A can tell ye." +None the less she opened the door to Mr. Wigglesworth with +dignified courtesy. + +"Guid mornin', Mr. Wigglesworth," she said cordially. "Ye're airly +on yere way tae the Kirk." + +"Yes--that is--yes," replied Mr. Wigglesworth in some confusion, "I +am a bit (h)early. Fact is, I was (h)anxious to catch Malcolm +before 'e went aht. I 'ave a rather (h)important business on 'and +with 'im, very (h)important business, I might say." + +"'Business,' did ye say, Mr. Wigglesworth?" Mrs. McNish stood +facing him at the door. "Business! On the Lord's Day?" + +Mr. Wigglesworth gaped at her, hat in hand. + +"Well, Mrs. McNish, not (h)exactly business. That is," he said +with an apologetic smile, "(h)it depends, you see, just w'at yeh +puts (h)into a word, Mrs. McNish." + +Mr. Wigglesworth's head went over to one side as if in contemplation +of a new and striking idea. + +"A pit nae meaning into a word that's no in it on its ain accoont," +she replied with uncompromising grimness. "Business is just +business, an' my son diz nae business on the Lord's Day." + +There was no place for casuistry in the old Scotch lady's mind. A +thing was or was not, and there was an end to that. + +"Certainly, Mrs. McNish, certainly! And so sez I. But there might +be a slight difference of (h)opinion between you and I, so to +speak, as to just w'at may constitute 'business.' Now, for +(h)instance--" Mr. Wigglesworth was warming to his subject, but +the old lady standing on her doorstep fixed her keen blue eyes upon +him and ruthlessly swept away all argumentation on the matter. + +"If it is a matter consistent with the Lord's Day, come in; if not, +stay oot." + +"Oh! Yes, thank you. By the way, is your son in, by (h)any +chance? Per'raps 'e's shavin' 'isself, eh?" Mr. Wigglesworth +indulged in a nervous giggle. + +"Shavin' himsel!" exclaimed Mrs. McNish. "On the Sawbath! Man, +d'ye think he's a heathen, then?" Mrs. McNish regarded the man +before her with severity. + +"An 'eathen? Not me! I should consider it an 'eathenish practice +to go dirty of a Sunday," said Mr. Wigglesworth triumphantly. + +"Hoots, man, wha's talkin' about gaein' dirty? Can ye no mak due +preparation on the Saturday? What is yere Saturday for?" + +This was a new view to Mr. Wigglesworth and rather abashed him. + +"What is it, Mother?" Malcolm's voice indicated a desire to +appease the wrath that gleamed in his mother's eye. "Oh, it is Mr. +Wigglesworth. Yes, yes! I want to see Mr. Wigglesworth. Will you +come in, Mr. Wigglesworth?" + +"Malcolm, A was jist tellin' Mr. Wigglesworth--" + +"Yes, yes, I know, Mother, but I want--" + +"Malcolm, ye ken what day it is. And A wull not--" + +"Yes, Mother, A ken weel, but--" + +"And ye ken ye'll be settin' oot for the Kirk in half an oor--" + +"Half an hour, Mother? Why, it is only half past nine--" + +"A ken weel what it is. But A dinna like tae be fashed and +flustered in ma mind on ma way till the Hoose o' God." + +"I shall only require a very few moments, Madam," said Mr. +Wigglesworth. "The matter with w'ich I am (h)entrusted need not +take more than a minute or two. In fact, I simply want to +(h)announce a special, a very special meetin' of the Union this +(h)afternoon." + +"A releegious meetin', Mr. Wigglesworth?" enquired Mrs. McNish. + +"Well--not exactly--that is--I don't know but you might call it a +religious meetin'. To my mind, Mrs. McNish, you know--" + +But Mrs. McNish would have no sophistry. + +"Mr. Wigglesworth," she began sternly. + +But Malcolm cut in. + +"Now, Mother, I suppose it's a regular enough meeting. Just wait +till I get my hat, Mr. Wigglesworth. I'll be with you." + +His mother followed him into the house, leaving Mr. Wigglesworth at +the door. + +"Malcolm," she began with solemn emphasis. + +"Now, now, Mother, surely you know me well enough by this time to +trust my judgment in a matter of this kind," said her son, +hurriedly searching for his hat. + +"Ay, but A'm no sae sure o' yon buddie--" + +"Hoot, toot," said her son, passing out. "A'll be back in abundant +time for the Kirk, Mither. Never you fear." + +"Weel, weel, laddie, remember what day it is. Ye ken weel it's no +day for warldly amusement." + +"Ay, Mither," replied her son, smiling a little at the associating +of Mr. Wigglesworth with amusement of any sort on any day. + +In abundance of time Malcolm was ready to allow a quiet, unhurried +walk with his mother which would bring them to the church a full +quarter of an hour before the hour of service. + +It happened that the Rev. Murdo was on a congenial theme and in +specially good form that morning. + +"How much better is a man than a sheep," was his text, from which +with great ingenuity and eloquence he proceeded to develop the +theme of the supreme value of the human factor in modern life, +social and industrial. With great cogency he pressed the argument +against the inhuman and degrading view that would make man a mere +factor in the complex problem of Industrial Finance, a mere +inanimate cog in the Industrial Machine. + +"What did you think of the sermon, Mother?" asked Malcolm as they +entered the quiet lane leading home. + +"No sae bad, laddie, no sae bad. Yon's an able laddie, especially +on practical themes. Ay, it was no that bad," replied his mother +with cautious approval. + +"What about his view of the Sabbath?" + +"What about it? Wad ye no lift a sheep oot o' the muck on the +Sawbath?" + +"A would, of course," replied Malcolm. + +"Weel, what?" + +"A was jist thinkin' o' Mr. Wigglesworth this morning." + +"Yon man!" + +"You were rather hard on him this morning', eh, Mither?" + +"Hard on him? He's no a sheep, nor in some ways as guid's a sheep, +A grant ye that, but such as he is was it no ma duty to pull him +oot o' the mire o' Sawbath desecration and general ungodliness?" + +"Aw, Mither, Mither! Ye're incorrigible! Ye ought to come to the +meeting this afternoon and give them all a lug out." + +"A wull that then," said his mother heartily. "They need it, A +doot." + +"Hoots! Nonsense, Mither!" said her son hastily, knowing well how +thoroughly capable she was of not only going to a meeting of Union +workers but also of speaking her mind if in her judgment they were +guilty of transgressing the Sabbath law. "The meeting will be just +as religious as Mr. Matheson's anyway." + +"A'm no sae sure," said his mother grimly. + +Whether religious in the sense understood by Mrs. McNish, the +meeting was not wanting in ethical interest or human passion. It +was a gathering of the workers in the various industries in the +town, Trade Unionists most of them, but with a considerable number +who had never owed allegiance to any Union and a number of +disgruntled ex-Unionists. These latter were very vociferous and +for the most part glib talkers, with passions that under the +slightest pressure spurted foaming to the surface. Returned +soldiers there were who had taken on their old jobs but who had not +yet settled down into the colourless routine of mill and factory +work under the discipline of those who often knew little of the +essentials of discipline as these men knew them. A group of +French-Canadian factory hands, taken on none too willingly in the +stress of war work, constituted an element of friction, for the +soldiers despised and hated them. With these there mingled new +immigrants from the shipyards and factories of the Old Land, all +members or ex-members of Trade Unions, Socialists in training and +doctrine, familiar with the terminology and jargon of those +Socialistic debating schools, the Local Unions of England and +Scotland, alert, keen, ready of wit and ready of tongue, rejoicing +in wordy, passionate debate, ready for anything, fearing nothing. + +The occasion of the meeting was the presence of a great International +Official of the American Federation of Labour, and its purpose to +strengthen International Unionism against the undermining of +guerilla bands of non-Unionists and very especially against the new +organizations emanating from the far West, the One Big Union. + +At the door of the hall stood Mr. Wigglesworth, important, fussy +and unctuously impressive, welcoming, directing, introducing and, +incidentally but quite ineffectively, seeking to inspire with +respect for his august person a nondescript crowd of small boys +vainly seeking entrance. With an effusiveness amounting to +reverence he welcomed McNish and directed him in a mysterious +whisper toward a seat on the platform, which, however, McNish +declined, choosing a seat at the side about half way up the aisle. + +A local Union official was addressing the meeting but saying +nothing in particular, and simply filling in till the main speaker +should arrive. McNish, quite uninterested in the platform, was +quietly taking note of the audience, with many of whom he had made +a slight acquaintance. As his eye travelled slowly from face to +face it was suddenly arrested. There beside her father was Annette +Perrotte, who greeted him with a bright nod and smile. They had +long ago made up their tiff. Then McNish had another surprise. At +the door of the hall appeared Captain Jack Maitland who, after +coolly surveying the room, sauntered down the aisle and took a seat +at his side. He nodded to McNish. + +"Quite a crowd, McNish," he said. "I hear the American Johnnie is +quite a spouter so I came along to hear." + +McNish looked at him and silently nodded. He could not understand +his presence at that kind of a meeting. + +"You know I am a Union man now," said Captain Jack, accurately +reading his silence. "Joined a couple of months ago." + +But McNish kept his face gravely non-committal, wondering how it +was that this important bit of news had not reached him. Then he +remembered that he had not attended the last two monthly meetings +of his Union, and also he knew that little gossip of the shops came +his way. None the less, he was intensely interested in Maitland's +appearance. He did Captain Jack the justice to acquit him of +anything but the most honourable intentions, yet he could not make +clear to his mind what end the son of his boss could serve by +joining a Labour Union. He finally came to the conclusion that +this was but another instance of an "Intellectual" studying the +social and economic side of Industry from first-hand observation. +It was a common enough thing in the Old Land. He was conscious of +a little contempt for this dilettante sort of Labour Unionism, +and he was further conscious of a feeling of impatience and +embarrassment at Captain Jack's presence. He belonged to the enemy +camp, and what right had he there? From looks cast in their +direction it was plain that others were asking the same question. +His thought received a sudden and unexpected exposition from the +platform from no less a person than Mr. Wigglesworth himself to +whom as one of the oldest officials in Unionised Labour in the town +had been given the honour of introducing the distinguished visitor +and delegate. + +In flowing periods and with a reckless but wholly unauthorised +employment of aspirates he "welcomed the (h)audience, (h)especially +the ladies, and other citizens among 'oom 'e was delighted to +(h)observe a representative of the (h)employing class 'oo was for +the present 'e believed one of themselves." To his annoyed +embarrassment Captain Jack found himself the observed of many eyes, +friendly and otherwise. "But 'e would assure Captain Maitland that +although 'e might feel as if 'e 'ad no right to be 'ere--" + +"'Ere! 'Ere!" came a piercing voice in unmistakable approval, +galvanising the audience out of its apathy into instant emotional +intensity. + +"(H)I want most (h)emphatically to (h)assure Captain Maitland," +continued Mr. Wigglesworth, frowning heavily upon the interrupter, +"that 'e is as welcome--" + +"No! No!" cried the same Cockney voice, followed by a slight +rumbling applause. + +"I say 'e is," shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, supported by hesitating +applause. + +"No! No! We don't want no toffs 'ere." This was followed by more +definite applause from the group immediately surrounding the +speaker. + +Mr. Wigglesworth was much affronted and proceeded to administer a +rebuke to the interrupter. + +"I (h)am surprised," he began, with grieved and solemn emphasis. + +"Mr. Chairman," said the owner of the Cockney voice, rising to his +feet and revealing himself a small man with large head and thin +wizened features, "Mr. Chairman, I rise to protest right 'ere an' +naow against the presence of (h)any representative of the (h)enemy +class at--" + +"Aw, shut up!" yelled a soldier, rising from his place. "Throw out +the little rat!" + +Immediately there was uproar. On every side returned soldiers, +many of whom had been in Captain Jack's battalion, sprang up and +began moving toward the little Cockney who, boldly standing his +ground, was wildly appealing to the chair and was supported by the +furious cheering of a group of his friends, Old Country men most of +whom, as it turned out, were of the extreme Socialist type. By +this time it had fully been borne in upon Captain Jack's mind, +somewhat dazed by the unexpected attack, that he was the occasion +of the uproar. Rising from his place he tried vainly to catch the +Chairman's attention. + +"Come up to the platform," said a voice in his ear. He turned and +saw McNish shouldering his way through the excited crowd toward the +front. After a moment's hesitation he shrugged his shoulders and +followed. The move caught the eye and apparently the approval of +the audience, for it broke into cheers which gathered in volume +till by the time that McNish and Captain Jack stood on the platform +the great majority were wildly yelling their enthusiastic approval +of their action. McNish stood with his hand raised for a hearing. +Almost instantly there fell a silence intense and expectant. The +Scotchman stood looking in the direction of the excited Cockney +with cold steady eye. + +"A'm for freedom! The right of public assembly! A'm feart o' nae +enemy, not the deevil himself. This gentleman is a member of my +Union and he stays r-r-right he-e-r-re." With a rasping roll of +his r's he seemed to be ripping the skin off the little Cockney's +very flesh. The response was a yell of savage cheers which seemed +to rock the building and which continued while Mr. Wigglesworth in +overflowing effusiveness first shook Maitland's limp hand in a +violent double-handed pump handle exercise and then proceeded to +introduce him to the distinguished visitor, shouting his name in +Maitland's ear, "Mr 'Oward (H)E. Bigelow," adding with a sudden +inspiration, "(H)Introduce 'im to the (h)audience. Yes! Yes! +Most (h)assuredly," and continued pushing both men toward the front +of the platform, the demonstration increasing in violence. + +"I say, old chap," shouted Captain Jack in the stranger's ear, "I +feel like a fool." + +"I feel like a dozen of 'em," shouted Mr. Bigelow in return. +"But," he added with a slow wink, "this old fool is the daddy of +'em all. Go on, introduce me, or they'll bust something loose." + +Captain Jack took one step to the front of the platform and held up +his hand. The cheering assumed an even greater violence, then +ceased in sudden breathless silence. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said in a slightly bored voice, "this +gentleman is Mr. Howard E. Bigelow, a representative of the +American Federation of Labour, whom as a member of the Woodworkers' +Union, Local 197, I am anxious to hear if you don't mind." + +He bowed to the visitor, bowed to the audience once more swaying +under a tempest of cheers, and, followed by McNish, made his way to +his seat. + +From the first moment of his speech Mr. Howard E. Bigelow had to +fight for a hearing. The little Cockney was the centre of a well- +organised and thoroughly competent body of obstructers who by clever +"heckling," by points of order, by insistent questioning, by playing +now upon the anti-American string, now upon the anti-Federation +string, by ribald laughter, by cheering a happy criticism, +completely checked every attempt of the speaker to take flight in +his oratory. The International official was evidently an old hand +in this sort of game, but in the hands of these past masters in the +art of obstruction he met more than his match. Maitland was amazed +at his patience, his self-control, his adroitness, but they were all +in vain. At last he was forced to appeal to the Chairman for +British fair play. But the Chairman was helplessly futile and his +futility was only emphasised by Mr. Wigglesworth's attempts now at +browbeating which were met with derision and again at entreaty which +brought only demands for ruling on points of order, till the meeting +was on the point of breaking up in confused disorder. + +"McNish, I think I'll take a hand in this," said Captain Jack in +the Scotchman's ear. "Are you game?" + +"Wait a wee," said McNish, getting to his feet. Slowly he once +more made his way to the platform. As the crowd caught on to his +purpose they broke into cheering. When he reached the side of the +speaker he spoke a word in his ear, then came to the front with his +hand held up. There was instant quiet. He looked coolly over the +excited, disintegrating audience for a moment or two. + +"A belonged tae the Feefty-fir-rst Diveesion," he said in his +richest Doric. "We had a rare time wi' bullies over there. A'm +for free speech! Noo, listen tae me, you Cockney wheedle doodle. +Let another cheep out o' yere trap an' the Captain there will fling +ye oot o' this room as we did the Kayser oot o' France." + +"You said it, McNish," said Maitland, leaping to the aisle. With a +roar a dozen returned men were on their feet. + +"Steady, squad!" rang out Captain Jack's order. "Fall into this +aisle! Shun!" As if on parade the soldiers fell into line behind +their captain. + +"Macnamara!" he said, pointing to a huge Irishman. + +"Sir!" said Macnamara. + +"You see that little rat-faced chap?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Take your place beside him." + +With two steps Macnamara was beside his man. + +"Mr. Chairman, I protest," began the little Cockney fiercely. + +"Pass him up," said the Captain sharply. + +With one single motion Macnamara's hand swept the little man out of +his place into the aisle. + +"Chuck him out!" said Captain Jack quietly. + +From hand to hand, with never a pause, amid the jeers and laughter +of the crowd the little man was passed along like a bundle of old +rags till he disappeared through the open door. + +"Who's next?" shouted Macnamara joyfully. + +"As you were!" came the sharp command. + +At once Macnamara stood at attention. + +Captain Jack nodded to the platform. + +"All right," he said quietly. + +Mr. Howard E. Bigelow finished his speech in peace. He made appeal +for the closing up of the ranks of Labour in preparation for the +big fight which was rapidly coming. They had just finished with +Kaiserism in Europe but they were faced with only another form of +the same spirit in their own land. They wanted no more fighting, +God knew they had had enough of that, but there were some things +dearer than peace, and Labour was resolved to get and to hold those +things which they had fought for, "which you British and especially +you Canadians shed so much blood to win. We are making no threats, +but we are not going to stand for tyranny at the hands of any man +or any class of men in this country. Only one thing will defeat +us, not the traditional enemies of our class but disunion in our +own ranks due to the fool tactics of a lot of disgruntled and +discredited traitors like the man who has just been fired from this +meeting." He asked for a committee which would take the whole +situation in hand. He closed with a promise that in any struggle +which they undertook under the guidance of their International +Officers the American Federation of Labour to their last dollar +would be behind them. + +Before the formal closing of the meeting Maitland slipped quietly +out. As he reached the sidewalk a light hand touched his arm. +Turning he saw at his elbow Annette, her face aglow and her black +eyes ablaze with passionate admiration. + +"Oh, Captain Jack," she panted, her hands outstretched, "you were +just wonderful! Splendid! Oh! I don't know what to say! I--" +She paused in sudden confusion. A hot colour flamed in her face. +Maitland took her hands in his. + +"Hello, Annette! I saw you there. Why! What's up, little girl?" + +A sudden rush of tears had filled her eyes. + +"Oh, nothing. I am just excited, I guess. I don't know what--" +She pulled her hands away. "But you were great!" She laughed +shrilly. + +"Oh, it was your friend McNish did the trick," said Captain Jack. +"Very neat bit of work that, eh? Very neat indeed. Awfully clever +chap! Are you going home now?" + +"No, I am waiting." She paused shyly. + +"Oh, I see!" said Captain Jack with a smile. "Lucky chap, by +Jove!" + +"I am waiting for my father," said Annette, tossing her head. + +"Oh, then, if that's all, come along with me. Your father knows +his way about." The girl paused a moment, hesitating. Then with a +sudden resolve she cried gaily, + +"Well, I will. I want to talk to you about it. Oh, I am so +excited!" She danced along at his side in gay abandon. As they +turned at the first corner Maitland glanced over his shoulder. + +"Hello! Here's McNish," he cried, turning about. "Shall we wait +for him?" + +"Oh, never mind Malcolm," cried the girl excitedly, "come along. I +don't want him just now. I want--" She checked herself abruptly. +"I want to talk to you." + +"Oh, all right," said Captain Jack. "He's gone back anyway. Come +along Annette, old girl. I have been wanting to see you for a long +time." + +"Well, you see me," said the girl, laughing up into his eyes with +a frank, warm admiration in hers that made Captain Jack's heart +quicken a bit in its steady beat. He was a young man with a normal +appreciation of his own worth. She, young, beautiful, unspoiled, +in the innocence of her girlish heart was flinging at him the full +tribute of a warm, generous admiration with every flash of her +black eyes and every intonation of her voice. Small wonder if +Captain Jack found her good to look at and to listen to. Often +during the walk home he kept saying to himself, "Jove, that McNish +chap is a lucky fellow!" But McNish, taking his lonely way home, +was only conscious that the evening had grown chilly and grey. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE DAY BEFORE + + +Business was suspended for the day in Blackwater. That is, men +went through their accustomed movements, but their thoughts were +far apart from the matters that were supposed to occupy their minds +during the working hours of the day. In the offices, in the +stores, in the shops, on the streets, in the schools, in the homes +the one, sole topic of conversation, the one mental obsession was +The Great Game. Would the Maitland Mill Hockey Team pull it off? +Blackwater was not a unit in desiring victory for the Maitland Mill +team, for the reason that the team's present position of proud +eminence in the hockey world of Eastern Ontario had been won by a +series of smashing victories over local and neighbouring rival +teams. They had first disposed of that snappy seven of lightning +lightweights, the local High School team, the champions in their +own League. They had smashed their way through the McGinnis +Foundry Seven in three Homeric contests. This victory attracted +the notice of the Blackwater Black Eagles, the gay and dashing +representatives of Blackwater's most highly gilded stratum of +society, a clever, hard-fighting, never-dying group of athletes +who, summer and winter, kept themselves in perfect form, and who +had moved rapidly out of obscurity into the dazzling spotlight of +championship over their district. For the sake of the practice in +it and in preparation for their games in the Eastern Ontario Hockey +League, they took on the Maitland Mill team. + +It took the Black Eagles a full week to recover sufficient control +to be able to speak intelligibly as to the "how" and "why" of that +match. For the Mill team with apparent ease passed in thirteen +goals under and over and behind and beside the big broad goal stick +of Bell Blackwood, the goal wonder of the League; and the single +register for the Eagles had been netted by Fatty Findlay's own +stick in a moment of aberration. During the week following the +Black Eagle debacle the various Bank managers, Law Office managers +and other financial magnates of the town were lenient with their +clerks. Social functions were abandoned. The young gentlemen had +one continuous permanent and unbreakable engagement at the rink or +in preparation for it. But all was in vain. The result of the +second encounter was defeat for the Eagles, defeat utter, +unmistakable and inexplicable except on the theory that they had +met a superior team. Throughout the hockey season the Maitland +Mill maintained an unbroken record of victory till their fame flew +far; and at the close of the season enthusiasts of the game had +arranged a match between the winners of the Eastern Ontario Hockey +League, the renowned Cornwall team and the Maitland Mill boys. To- +day the Cornwalls were in town, and the town in consequence was +quite unfit for the ordinary duties of life. The Eagles almost to +a man were for the local team; for they were sports true to type. +Not so however their friends and following, who resented defeat of +their men at the hands of a working class team. + +Of course it was Jack Maitland who was responsible for their +humiliation. It was he who had organised his fellow workmen, put +them through a blood and iron discipline, filled them with his own +spirit of irresistible furious abandon in attack which carried them +to victory. + +It was an old game with Jack Maitland. When a High School boy he +had developed that spirit of dominating and indomitable leadership +that had made his team the glory of the town. Later by sound and +steady grinding at the game he had developed a style and plan of +team play which had produced a town team in the winter immediately +preceding the war that had won championship honors. Now with his +Mill team he was simply repeating his former achievements. + +It had astonished his friends to learn that Captain Jack was +playing hockey again. He had played no game except in a desultory +way since the war. He had resisted the united efforts of the +Eagles and their women friends to take the captaincy of that team. +The mere thought of ever appearing on the ice in hockey uniform +gave him a sick feeling at his heart. Of that noble seven whom he +had in pre-war days led so often to victory four were still "over +there," one was wandering round a darkened room. Of the remaining +two, one Rupert Stillwell was too deeply engrossed in large +financial affairs for hockey. Captain Jack himself was the +seventh, and the mere sight of a hockey stick on a school boy's +shoulder gave him a heart stab. + +It was his loyal pal Patricia Templeton, who gave him the first +impulse toward the game again. To her pleading he had yielded so +far as to coach, on a Saturday afternoon, her team of High School +girls to victory. But it was the Reverend Murdo Matheson who +furnished the spur to conscience that resulted in the organising of +the Maitland Mill team. + +"You, John Maitland, more than any of us and more than all of us +together can draw these lads of yours from the pool rooms and +worse," the Reverend Murdo had said one day in early winter. + +"Great Scott, Padre"--the Reverend Murdo had done his bit overseas-- +"what are you giving me now?" + +"You, more than any or all of us, I am saying," repeated the +minister solemnly. "For God's sake, man, get these lads on the ice +or anywhere out-of-doors for the good of their immortal souls." + +"Me! And why me, pray?" Captain Jack had asked. "I'm no uplifter. +Why jump on me?" + +"You, because God has bestowed on you the gift to lead men," said +the minister with increasing solemnity. "A high gift it is, and +one for which God will hold you responsible." + +That very night, passing by the Lucky Strike Pool Rooms, Captain +Jack had turned in to find a score and more of youths--many of them +from the mills--flashing their money with reckless freedom in an +atmosphere thick with foul tobacco-smoke and reeking with profane +and lewd speech. On reaching his home that night Maitland went +straight to the attic and dug up his hockey kit. Before he slept +he had laid his plans for a league among the working lads in the +various industries in the town. + +It was no easy task to force these men into training habits, to +hold them to the grind, to discipline them into self-control in +temper and in desire. It was of vast assistance to him that three +of his seven were overseas men, while some dozen or so of the +twenty in the club were returned soldiers. It was part of his +discipline that his team should never shirk a day's work for the +game except on the rare occasions when they went on tour. Hence +the management in the various mills and factories, at first hostile +and suspicious, came to regard these athletic activities on the +part of their employees with approval and finally came to give +encouragement and support to the games. + +To-day was a half holiday for the Maitland Mills and the streets +were noticeably full of the men and their sweethearts and wives in +their Sunday clothes. Not the team, however. Maitland knew better +than that. He took his men for a run in the country before noon, +bringing them home in rich warm glow. Then after a bath and a hard +rubdown they dined together at the mill and then their Captain +ordered them home to sleep, forbidding them the streets till they +were on their way to the game. + +On his way home Captain Jack was waylaid by his admirer and +champion, Patricia. She, standing in front of his car, brought +him to a halt. + +"I have not even seen you for a whole week," she complained, +getting in beside him, "and your phone is always busy in the +evening. Of course no one can get you during the day. And I do +want to know how the team is. Oh! do tell me they are fit for the +game of their lives! Are they every one fit?" + +"Fit and fine." + +"And will they win?" + +"Sure thing," said Captain Jack quietly. + +"Oh, I hope you are right. But you are so sure," exclaimed his +companion. "The Cornwalls are wonderful, Rupert says." + +"He would." + +"Oh! I forgot you don't think much of Rupert," sighed Patricia. + +"I haven't time, you see," answered Captain Jack gravely. + +"Oh, you know what I mean. It is a pity, too, for he is really +very nice. I mean he is so good to me," sighed Patricia again. + +"Don't sigh, Patsy, old girl. It really isn't worth it, you know. +How is the supply of choc's keeping up?" + +"Now you are thinking me a pig. But tell me about your men. Are +they really in form?" + +"Absolutely at the peak." + +"And that darling Fatty Findlay. I do hope he will not lose his +head and let a goal in. He is perfectly adorable with that +everlasting smile of his. I do hope Fatty is at the peak, too. Is +he, really?" The anxiety in Patricia's tone was more than painful. + +"Dear Patsy, he is right at the pinnacle." + +"Captain Jack, if you don't win to-night I shall--well, I shall +just weep my eyes out." + +"That settles it, Pat. We shall win. We can't--I can't spare +those lovely eyes, you know," said Captain Jack, smiling at her. + +One by one Captain Jack's team were passed in review--the defence, +Macnamara and "Jack" Johnson, so called for his woolly white head; +"Reddy" Hughes, Ross, "Snoopy" Sykes, who with Captain Jack made +the forward line, all were declared to be fit to deliver the last +ounce in their bodies, the last flicker in their souls. + +"Do you know, Captain Jack," said Patricia gravely, "there is one +change you ought to make in your forward line." + +"Yes! What is that, Pat?" asked Captain Jack, with never a +suggestion of a smile. + +"I would change Snoopy for Geordie Ross. You know Geordie is a +little too careful, and he is hardly fast enough for you. Now you +and Snoopy on left wing would be oh! perfectly wonderful." + +"Patsy, you are a wizard!" exclaimed Captain Jack. "That very +change has been made and the improvement is unbelievable. We are +both left-handers and we pull off our little specialties far more +smoothly than Geordie and I could. You have exactly hit the bull. +You watch for that back of the goal play to-night. Well, here we +are. You have good seats, I understand." + +"Oh, yes. Rupert, you see, as patron of the Eagles was able to get +the very best. But won't you come in and see mother? She is +really quite worked up over it, though of course she couldn't bear +to go." + +Captain Jack checked the refusal on his lips. + +"Yes, I will go in for a few minutes," he said gravely. "No! Your +mother would not--could not come, of course." + +There flashed before his mind a picture from pre-war days. The +rink packed with wildly excited throngs and in a certain reserved +section midway down the side the Templeton-Maitland party with its +distinguished looking men and beautiful women following with eager +faces and shining eyes the fortunes of their sons in the fight +before them. The flash of that picture was like a hand of ice upon +his heart as Captain Jack entered the cosy living room. + +"Here he is, Mamma!" cried Patricia as she ushered her hero into +the room with a sweeping gesture. "And he brings the most cheering +news. They are going to win!" + +"But how delightful!" exclaimed Adrien coming from the piano where +she had been playing, with Rupert Stillwell turning her music for +her. + +"I suppose upon the best authority," said Stillwell, grinning at +Patricia. + +"We are so glad you found time to run in," said Mrs. Templeton. +"You must have a great deal to say to your team on the last +afternoon." + +"I'm glad I came too, now," said Captain Jack, holding the fragile +hand in his and patting it gently. "I am afraid Patricia is +responsible for my coming in. I don't really believe I could have +ventured on my own." + +A silence fell on the company which none of them seemed able to +break. Other days were hard upon them. In this very room it was +that that other seven were wont to meet for their afternoon tea +before their great matches. + +Mrs. Templeton, looking up at Jack, found his eyes fixed upon her +and full of tears. With a swift upward reach of her arms she +caught him and drew his head to her breast. + +"I know, Jack dear," she said, with lips that quivered piteously. +For a moment or two he knelt before her while she held him in a +close embrace. Then he gently kissed her cheek and rose to his +feet. + +"Give him some tea, Adrien," she said, making a gallant struggle to +steady her voice, "a cup of tea--and no cake. I remember, you +see," she added with a tremulous smile. + +Adrien came back quickly from the window. + +"Yes! a fresh cup!" she cried eagerly, "and a sandwich. You, Pat, +get the sandwiches. No cake. We must do nothing to imperil the +coming victory." + +"You have a wonderful team, Jack, I hear," said her mother. "Come +and sit here beside me and tell me about them. Patricia has been +keeping me informed, but she is not very coherent at times. Of +course, I know about your wonderful goal keeper Findlay, is it +not?" And the gentle little lady kept a stream of conversation +going, for she saw how deeply moved Maitland was. It was his first +visit to the Rectory since he had taken up the game again, and the +rush of emotion released by the vivid memory of those old happy +days when that jolly group of boys had filled this familiar room +with their noisy clatter wellnigh overcame him. + +For a minute or two he fussed with the tea things till he could +master his voice, then he said very quietly: + +"They are very decent chaps--really very good fellows and they have +taken their training extraordinarily well. Of course, Macnamara +and Johnson were in my old company, and that helps a lot." + +"Yes, I remember Macnamara quite well. He is a fine big Irishman." + +"Fancy you remembering him, Mrs. Templeton," said Captain Jack. + +"Of course, I remember him. He is one of our boys." + +"Let's see, he is one of your defence, isn't he?" said Stillwell, +who had felt himself rather out of the conversation. Maitland +nodded. The presence of Stillwell in that room introduced a +painful element. Once he had been one of the seven and though +never so intimately associated with the Rectory life as the others, +yet at all team gatherings he had had his place. But since the war +Maitland had never been able to endure his presence in that room. +To-day, with the memory of those old thrilling days pressing hard +upon his heart, he could not bear to look upon a man, once one of +them, now forever an outsider. The tea coming in brought to +Maitland relief. + +"Ah, here you are," he cried anticipating Stillwell in relieving +Adrien of part of her load. "You are a life saver. Tea is the +thing for this hour." + +"Three lumps, is it not?" said the girl, smiling at him. "You see, +I remember, though you really don't deserve it. And here is Pat +with the sandwiches." + +"Yes! a whole plate for yourself, Captain Jack," said Patricia. +"Come and sit by me here." + +"No indeed!" said her sister with a bright glow on her cheeks. +"Jack is going to sit right here by the tea-pot, and me," she +added, throwing him a swift glance. + +"No! you are both wrong, children," said their mother. "Jack is +coming to sit beside me. He's my boy this afternoon." + +"Mother, we will all share him," said Patricia, placing chairs near +her mother. "I must talk about the match, I simply must." + +A shadow for a moment wiped the brightness from the face and eyes +of the elder sister, but yielding to her mother's appeal, she +joined the circle, saying to Maitland, + +"I don't believe you want to talk about the match, do you? That is +not supposed to be good psychology before a match. What you really +want is a good sleep. Isn't that right?" + +"He has just sent his men off to bed, I know," said Patricia, "and +we will send him off when he has had his tea." + +"I am so glad you are playing again," said Mrs. Templeton to +Maitland as he sat down by her side. "You need more recreation +than you have been taking, I believe." + +A shadow crossed Maitland's face. + +"I don't believe I need recreation very much, but these chaps of +mine do," he said simply. + +"The workmen, you mean!" + +"Yes. They lead rather a dull life, you know. Not much colour. A +pool room on the whole has rather a rotten effect upon a chap who +has been nine or ten hours indoors already and who sticks at the +same thing day in and day out for months at a time." + +"Ah, I see. You mean you took up hockey for--ah--to help--" + +"Well, I don't want to pose as a workingman's advocate and that +sort of thing. But really he has a slow time." + +"Then, why doesn't he get busy and do something for himself," broke +in Stillwell, impatiently. "The Lord knows he is getting most of +the money these days and has more spare time than anyone else in +the community." + +But Maitland ignored him, till Patricia intervened. + +"Tell me about that," she demanded. + +"Look here!" said her sister. "You are not going to get Jack into +a labour controversy this afternoon. But I would just like to ask +you, Pat, how keen you'd be on organising and conducting a Literary +and Debating Society after you had put in not five and a half +hours' lessons, but eight or nine hours'! It would take some +doing, eh? But let's cut out the labour trouble. It is nearly +time for his sleep, isn't it?" + +"Is it, Captain Jack? If so, we won't keep you a minute," said +Patricia anxiously. "No, mother! you must not keep him. He must +be on tip-toe to-night." + +Captain Jack rose. "Patricia would make an ideal trainer," he +said. "I fear I must really go. I am awfully glad to have come in +and seen you all. Somehow I feel a whole lot better." + +"And so do we, Jack," said the old lady in a wistful voice. "Won't +you come again soon?" + +Maitland hesitated a moment, glancing at Adrien. + +"Oh, do!" said the girl, with a little colour coming into her face. +"It has been a little like old times to see you this way." + +"Yes, hasn't it?" said Stillwell. "Awfully jolly." + +Maitland stiffened and turned again to the old lady whose eyes were +turned on him with sad entreaty. + +"Yes, I shall come to see you," said Maitland, bowing over her hand +in farewell. + +"We shall expect you to come and see us to-night at the match, +remember, Captain Jack," said Patricia, as he passed out of the +room. "Now be sure to go and have your sleep." + +But there was no sleep that afternoon for Captain Jack. On his way +through the town he was halted by McNish. + +"The boys want to see you," he said briefly. + +"What boys? What do you mean, McNish?" + +"At the rooms. Will you come down now?" + +"Now? I can't come now, McNish. I have to be on the ice in three +hours and I must get a little rest. What's up, anyway? Tell them +I'll see them to-morrow." + +"No! they want you now!" said McNish firmly. "I would advise that +you come." + +"What do you mean, McNish? Well, get in here and I'll go to see +them." McNish got into the car. "Now, what's all the mystery?" + +"Better wait," said McNish, grimly. + +"Well, it is a dog's trick," said Maitland wrathfully, "to get on +to a chap before a big match like this." + +In the Union Committee rooms a group of men were awaiting them, +among them Mr. Wigglesworth and the little cockney who had made +himself so obnoxious at the public meeting. + +"What's all this tomfoolery, Wigglesworth?" demanded Captain Jack, +striding in among them. + +"(H)excuse me," said the little cockney. "You are a member of the +Woodworkers' Union I (h)understand." + +"Who the devil are you, may I ask?" said Maitland in a rage. + +"(H)allow me," said Mr. Wigglesworth. "Mister Simmons, Mr. +Maitland--Mr. Simmons is our new secretary, (h)elected last +meetin'." + +"Well, what do you want of me?" demanded Maitland. "Don't you know +I am tied up this afternoon?" + +"Tied (h)up?" asked Simmons coolly, "'ow?" + +"With the match, confound you." + +"Oh, the match! And w'at match may that be? (H)Anythin' to do +with your Union?" + +Maitland glared at him, too dumfounded to speak. + +"You see, Mr. Maitland," began Mr. Wigglesworth in a hurried and +apologetic manner. + +"'Ere! you keep aht o' this," said Simmons sharply, "this 'ere's my +job. I shall tell Brother Maitland all that is necessary." + +"I was only going to (h)explain--" began Mr. Wigglesworth. + +"Naw then! IS this your job or mine? Was you (h)appointed or was +I? When I find myself (h)unable to discharge my dooty to the Union +I might per'aps call on you, Brother Wigglesworth; but until I find +myself in that situation I 'ope you will refrain from shovin' in +your 'orn." Brother Simmons' sarcasm appeared to wither Brother +Wigglesworth into silence. + +"Naw then, Brother Maitland, we shall get (h)on." + +Maitland glanced round on the group of half a dozen men. Some of +them he knew; others were strangers to him. + +"I don't know what the business is, gentlemen," he said, curbing +his wrath, "but I want to know if it can't wait till to-morrow? +You know our boys are going on the ice in a couple of hours or so--" + +"Goin' on the (h)ice! Goin' on the (h)ice! W'at's that to do with +Union business?" snarled Simmons. "This 'ere's no silly kids' +gaime! It's a man's work we ave in 'and, if you don't want to do +the business to w'ich you are (h)appointed w'y just say so and we +shall know 'ow to (h)act. There 'as been too much o' this gaime +business to suit me. If we are men let us (h)act like men." + +"Better get on wi' it," said McNish curtly. + +"I shall get on w'en I am good and ready, Brother McNish," answered +Simmons. + +"All r-r-right, brother, but A doot ye're oot o' order. Who is the +chairman o' this Committee?" asked McNish calmly. + +"Brother Phillips," answered two or three voices. + +"All right. I suggest you proceed regularly and call the meeting +to order," said McNish quietly. Simmons, recognising that it was +Greek meeting Greek, agreed to this. + +Clumsily and hesitatingly Brother Phillips began stating the +business of the Committee. He had not gone far before Simmons +interrupted. + +"Mr. Chairman, with your permission I would just like to say that +the resolution passed at the representative joint meetin' of the +Maitland Mills and Box Factory (h)employees last night will +sufficiently (h)explain the (h)object of this meetin' 'ere." +Brother Simmons' tone suggested infinite pity for the lumbering +efforts of the chairman. + +"Yes, I guess it will," said the chairman, blushing in his +confusion. Brother Phillips was new to his position and its +duties. + +"I would suggest that that resolution be read," said Brother +Simmons, the pity in his tone hardly veiling his contempt. + +"Yes! Yes! Of course!" said Brother Phillips hurriedly. "Eh-- +would you please read it, Mr.--that is--Brother Simmons?" + +With great show of deliberation and of entire mastery of the +situation Mr. Simmons produced a Minute Book and began: + +"Mr. Chairman and brothers, I may say that this 'ere resolution was +passed at a joint representative meetin' of all the (h)employees of +the Maitland Company--" + +"There is no sich company, Mr. Chairman," said McNish. "A say let +us hear the resolution. We'll hear the speech afterwards if we +must." It was again Greek meeting Greek, and the little man turned +with a sarcastic smile to McNish. + +"I suppose Brother McNish is (h)anxious to get ready for this gaime +we've bin 'earing abaht. I should just like to remind 'im that we +'ave a bigger gaime on 'and, if 'e wants to get into it. Personally +I don't 'ave no use for these 'ere gaimes. I 'ave seen the same +kind of capitalistic dodge to distract the workin' man's (h)attention +from 'is real gaime in life. These circumventions--" + +"Maister Chair-r-man! A rise--" + +"Mr. Chairman, I 'ave the floor and if Brother McNish knows +(h)anythink abaht constitootional proceedin's--" + +"Maister Chair-r-man--Maister-r Chair-r-r-man!" Brother McNish's +Doric was ominously rasping. "A rise tae a pint of or-r-de-r-r. +And Brother Simmons, who claims to be an expert in constitutional +law and procedure knows I have the floor. Ma pint of order is +this, that there is no business before the meeting and as +apparently only aboot half the members are absent--" + +"And 'oo's fault is that? 'E was to get them 'isself," shouted Mr. +Simmons. + +"A searched the toon for them but cudna find them, but as A was +sayin'--as the secretary has no business tae bring before the +meeting but a wheen havers, A move we adjourn tae tomorrow at 12:30 +p. m. in this place, and I believe that as Brither Maitland is also +a member o' this committee he will second the motion." + +Maitland, not knowing in the least what the whole thing was about, +but seeing a way out of the present mix-up, promptly seconded the +motion. + +"Mr. Chairman!" shouted Simmons. "I am prepared to--" + +"Maister Chair-r-man, A need not remind you that there is no +discussion on a motion to adjourn." + +"That is quite right," said the chairman, in whose memory by some +obscure mental process this fact seemed to have found a lodging. + +"It is moved that this committee do now adjourn." + +"Mr. Chairman! I protest," shrieked Brother Simmons frantically. + +"Ay, he's a grand protester!" said Brother McNish. + +The motion was carried by a majority of one, Brothers Wigglesworth, +McNish and Maitland voting in the affirmative. + +"Traitors!" shrieked Brother Simmons. "Capitalistic traitors!" + +"Hoot mon! Ye're no in Hyde Park. Save yere breath for yere +porritch the morn--" said McNish, relaxing into a grim smile as he +left the rooms. + +"We'll get 'im," said Simmons to his ally and friend. "'E's in +with that there young pup. 'E knows 'ow to work 'im and 'e'd sell +us all up, 'e would." Brother Simmons' brand of profanity strongly +savoured of the London pavements in its picturesque fluency. + +"Get in here, McNish," said Maitland, who was waiting at the door. +With some hesitation McNish accepted the invitation. + +"Now, what does this mean?" said Maitland savagely, then checking +his rage, "but I ought to thank you for getting me out of the grip +of that frantic idiot. What is this fool thing?" + +"It's nae that," said McNish shortly. "It is anything but that. +But I grant ye this was no time to bring it on. That was beyond +me. A doot yon puir cratur had a purpose in it, however. He +disna--does not think much of these games of yours. But that's +anither--another"--McNish was careful of his speech--"matter." + +"But what in--" + +"I am just telling you. There is a strong, a very strong movement +under way among the unions at present." + +"A movement? Strike, do you mean?" + +"It may be, or worse." McNish's tone was very grave. "And as a +good union man they expect your assistance." + +"Wages again?" + +"Ay, and condeetions and the like." + +"But it is not six months since the last agreement was signed and +that agreement is running still." + +"Ay, it is, but condeetions, conditions have changed since that +date," said McNish, "and there must be readjustment--at least, +there is a feeling that way." + +"Readjustment? But I have had no hint of this in our meetings. +This has not come up for discussion." + +A gentle pity smiled from the rugged face of the man beside him. + +"Hardly," he said. "It's no done that way." + +They came to McNish's door. + +"Will you come in?" he said courteously. A refusal was at Maitland's +lips when the door was opened by an old lady in a white frilled cap +and without being able to explain how it came about he found himself +in the quaintly furnished but delightfully cosy living-room, soaking +in the comfort of a great blazing fire. + +"This is really solid comfort," he said, spreading his hands to the +glowing pine slabs. + +"Ay, ye need it the day. The fire cheers the heart," said the old +lady. + +"But you don't need it for that, Mrs. McNish," said her visitor, +smiling at the strong, serene face under the white frilled cap. + +"Do I not then? An' what aboot yersel'?" The keen grey eye +searched his face. Maitland was immediately conscious of a vast +dreariness in his life. He sat silent looking into the blazing +fire. + +"Ay," continued the old lady, "but there are the bright spots tae, +an' it's ill tae glower at a cauld hearth stone." Maitland glanced +quickly at the shrewd and kindly face. What did she know about him +and his life and his "cauld hearth stone"? So he said nothing but +waited. Suddenly she swerved to another theme. + +"Malcolm," she said, "have ye secured the tickets for the match?" + +"Aw, mither, now it is the terrible auld sport ye are. She drags +me out to all these things." His eyes twinkled at Maitland. "I +can't find time for any study." + +"Hoots ye and ye're study. A doot a rale heartening scramble on +the ice wad dae ye mair guid than an oor wi' yon godless Jew +buddie." + +"She means Marx, of course," said McNish, in answer to Maitland's +look of perplexity. "She has no use for him." + +"But the tickets, Malcolm," insisted his mother. + +"Well, mither, A'll confess I clean forgot them. Ye see," he +hurried to say, "A was that fashed over yon Committee maitter--" + +"Committee maitter!" exclaimed the old lady indignantly. "Did I +not tell ye no to heed yon screamin' English cratur wi' his +revolutionary nonsense?" + +"She means Simmons," interjected Malcolm with a little smile. "He +means well, mither, but A'm vexed aboot the tickets." + +"Mrs. McNish," said Maitland, "I happen to have two tickets that I +can let you have." For an instant she hesitated. + +"We can find a way in, I think, Mr. Maitland," said Malcolm, +forestalling his mother's answer. But with simple dignity his +mother put him aside. + +"A shall be verra pleased indeed to have the tickets, provided you +can spare them, Mr. Maitland. Never mind, noo, Malcolm. A ken +well what ye're thinkin'. He's gey independent and his mind is on +thae revolutionary buddies o' his. A'm aye tellin' him this is nae +land for yon nonsense. Gin we were in Rooshie, or Germany whaur +the people have lived in black slavery or even in the auld land +whaur the fowk are haudden doon wi' generations o' class bondage, +there might be a chance for a revolutionary. But what can ye dae +in a land whaur the fowk are aye climbin' through ither, noo up, +noo down, noo maister, noo man? Ye canna make Canadians +revolutionaries. They are a' on the road to be maisters. Malcolm +is a clever loon but he has a wee bee in his bonnet." The old lady +smiled quizzically at her big, serious-faced son. + +"Noo, mither, ye're just talkin' havers," he said. "My mother is +as great a Socialist as I am." + +"Ay, but A keep ma heid." + +"That ye do, mither. Ye're gey cannie," replied her son, shaking +his head, and so they passed the word to and fro, and Maitland sat +listening to the chat. The delightful spirit of camaraderie +between mother and son reminded him of a similar relationship +between mother and sons in his own home in pre-war days. He could +not tear himself away. It was well on to his dinner hour before he +rose to go. + +"You have given me a delightful hour, Mrs. McNish," he said as he +shook hands. "You made me think of my own home in the old days,--I +mean before the war came and smashed everything." The old lady's +eyes were kindly scanning his face. + +"Ay, the war smashed yere hame?" Maitland nodded in silence. + +"His brither," said Malcolm, quietly. + +"Puir laddie," she said, patting his hand. + +"And my mother," added Maitland, speaking with difficulty, "and +that, of course, meant our home--and everything. So I thank you +for a very happy hour," he added with a smile. + +"Wad ye care to come again?" said the old lady with a quiet +dignity. "We're plain fowk but ye'll be always welcome." + +"I just will, Mrs. McNish. And I will send you the tickets." + +"Man! I wish ye grand luck the night. A grand victory." + +"Thank you. We are going to make a try for it," said Maitland. +"You must shout for us." + +"Ay, wull I," she answered grimly. And she kept her word for of +all the company that made up the Maitland party, none was more +conspicuously enthusiastic in applause than was a white-haired old +lady in a respectable black bonnet whose wild and weird Doric +expletives and exclamations were the joy of the whole party about +her. + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE NIGHT OF VICTORY + + +It was an hour after the match. They were gathered in the old +rendezvous of the hockey teams in pre-war days. And they were all +wildly excited over the Great Victory. + +"Just think of it, Mamma, dear," Patricia shouted, pirouetting now +on one foot and then on the other, "Eight to six! Oh, it is too +glorious to believe! And against that wonderful team, the +Cornwalls! Now listen to me, while I give you a calm and connected +account of the game. I shall always regret that you were not +present, Mamma. Victory! And at half time we were down, five to +two! I confess disaster and despair stared me in the face. And we +started off so gloriously! Captain Jack and Snoopy in the first +five minutes actually put in two goals, with that back goal play of +theirs. You know, I explained it to you, Mamma." + +"Yes, dear, I know," said her mother, "but if you will speak a +little more quietly and slowly--" + +"I will, Mamma," said her daughter, sitting down with great +deliberation, in front of her. "I will explain to you again that +'round the goal' play." + +"I am afraid, my dear, that I could hardly grasp just what you +mean." + +"Well, never mind, Mamma. It is a particular and special play that +Captain Jack worked out. They rush down to the goal and instead of +trying to shoot, the one with the puck circles round the back and +delivers the puck immediately in front of the goal, where another +takes and slips it in. Two goals in about five minutes, wasn't it, +Hugh?" + +"About eight minutes, I should say," replied Hugh Maynard, the big +Captain of the Eagles. + +"Well, eight minutes," continued Patricia, taking up the tale, "and +then they began the roughhouse business. Jumbo Larson--a terribly +big Swede, Mamma--put it all over little Snoopy. Chucked him +about, wiped the ice with him!" + +"My dear!" exclaimed her mother. + +"Well, you know what I mean. A great big, two-hundred-pound +monster, who simply threw Snoopy and Georgie Ross all about the +rink. It took Captain Jack all his time to stand up against him. +And then they ran in goals at a perfectly terrific rate. Two-- +three--four--five! And only Fatty Findlay's marvelous play kept +down the score. I adore Fatty! You know, Mamma, that dear old +Scotchwoman--" + +"Scotchwoman?" exclaimed Mrs. Templeton. + +"Yes. Oh! you don't know about her. Captain Jack brought her +along. Mrs. Mc-something." + +"McNish," supplied Adrien. + +"Yes, McNish," continued Patricia, "a perfect dear! She did +everything but swear. Indeed, she may have been swearing for I +could not understand half of what she said." + +Adrien interrupted: "She is perfectly priceless, Mother. I wish +you could meet her--so dignified and sweet." + +"Sweet!" exclaimed Patricia, with a laugh. "Well, I didn't see the +sweetness, exactly. But at half time, Mamma, fancy! they stood +five to two against us. It was a truly awful moment for all of us. +And then, after half time, didn't those Cornwalls within five +minutes run in another goal, and, worse than all, Jumbo Larson laid +out Snoopy flat on the ice! Now the game stood six to two! Think +of it, Mamma!" + +Then Adrien put in: "It was at this point that the old lady made a +remark which, I believe, saved the day. What was it exactly, +Hugh?" + +"I didn't quite get it." + +"I know," said little Vic Forsythe, himself a star of the Eagle +forward line. "You poor Sassenach! You couldn't be expected to +catch the full, fine flavour of it. Maitland was trying to cheer +the old lady up when she said to him: 'Yon half backs, A'm +thinkin''--she was a soccer fan in the old land, I believe--'yon +half backs, A'm thinkin', are gey confident. It is a peety they +cudna be shaken a bit in their nerves.' By Jove! Maitland jumped +at it. 'Mrs. McNish, you're right! you're right. I wonder I did +not think of it before.'" + +Then Adrien broke in: "Yes, from that moment there was a change in +our men's tactics." + +Then Patricia broke in: "Well, then, let me go on. Captain Jack +knew quite well there was no use of allowing those little chaps, +Snoopy and Geordie Ross, to keep feeding themselves to those horrid +monsters, Jumbo Larson and Macnab, so what did they do but move up +"Jack" Johnson and Macnamara. That is, you see, Mamma, the +forwards would take down the puck and then up behind them would +come the backs, Macnamara and "Jack" Johnson, like a perfect storm, +and taking the puck from the forwards, who would then fall back to +defence, would smash right on the Cornwall defence. The very first +time when "Jack" Johnson came against Jumbo, Jumbo found himself +sitting on the ice. Oh! it was lovely! Perfectly lovely! And the +next time they did it, Jumbo came at him like a bull. But that +adorable "Jack" Johnson just lifted him clear off his feet and +flung him against the side. It seemed to me that the whole rink +shook!" + +Here Vic broke in: "You didn't hear what the old lady said at this +point, I suppose. I was sitting next to her. She was really a +whole play by herself. When Jumbo went smashing against the side, +the old lady gave a grunt. 'Hum, that wull sort ye a doot.' Oh! +she is a peach!" + +"And the next time they came down," cried Patricia, taking up the +tale again, "Jumbo avoided him. For Macnamara, 'Jack' Johnson and +Captain Jack came roaring down the ice at a terrific pace, and with +never a stop, smashed head on into Jumbo and Macnab and fairly +hurled them in on Hepburn--that is their goal keeper, you know--and +scored. Oh! Oh! Oh! Such a yell! Six to three, and ten minutes +to play." + +"But Patricia," said Mrs. Templeton, "do moderate your tone. We +are not in the rink. And this terrible excitement can't be good +for you." + +"Good for me?" cried Patricia. "What difference does that make? +Ten minutes to play, Mamma! But that was the end of the roughhouse +game by the Cornwall defence." + +Then Hugh stepped in: "It really did break up that defence. It +was a wonderful piece of generalship, I must say. They never +seemed to get together after that." + +"Let me talk, Hugh," exclaimed Patricia, "I want to tell Mamma what +happened next, for this was really the most terribly exciting part +of the game. And I think it was awfully clever of Captain Jack. +You know, next time, Mamma, when they came down--I mean our men-- +they pretended to be playing the same game, but they weren't. For +Captain Jack and Snoopy went back to their old specialty, and +before the Cornwalls knew where they were at, they ran in three +goals--one-two-three, just like that! Oh! you ought to have seen +that rink, Mamma, and you ought to have heard the yelling! I wish +you had been there! And then, just at that last goal didn't that +horrid Jumbo make a terrible and cruel swing at Snoopy's ankle, +just as he passed. Knocked him clean off his feet so that poor +Snoopy lay on the ice quite still! He was really nearly killed. +They had to carry him off!" + +"Well, I wouldn't say that exactly," said Hugh. "The fact of the +matter is, Snoopy is a clever little beggar and I happened to catch +his wink as Maitland was bending over him. I was helping him off +the ice, you know, and I heard him whisper, 'Don't worry, Captain, +I'm all right. Get me another pair of skates. It will take a +little time.'" + +"Do you mean he wasn't hurt?" exclaimed Patricia indignantly. +"Indeed he was; he was almost killed, I am sure he was." + +"Oh, he was hurt right enough," said Hugh, "but he wasn't killed by +any means!" + +"And then," continued Patricia, "there was the most terrible riot +and uproar. Everybody seemed to be on the ice and fighting. Hugh +ran in, and Vic--I should loved to have gone myself--Hugh was +perfectly splendid--and all the Eagles were there and--" + +Then Mrs. Templeton said: "What do you mean--a fight, a riot?" + +"A real riot, Mother," said Adrien, "the whole crowd demanding +Jumbo's removal from the ice." + +"Yes," continued Patricia impatiently, pushing her sister aside, +"Hugh went straight to the umpire and it looked almost as though he +was going to fight, the way he tore in. But he didn't. He just +spoke quietly to the umpire. What did you say, Hugh?" + +"Oh," cried Vic, "Hugh was perfectly calm and superior. He knows +the umpire well. Indeed, I think the umpire owes his life to Hugh +and his protecting band of Eagles." + +"What did he say," cried Patricia. "I wish I could have heard +that." + +"Oh," said Vic, "there was an interesting conversation. 'Keep out +of this, Maynard. You ought to know better,' the umpire said, +'keep out.' 'Baker, that man Larson must go off.' 'Rubbish,' said +the umpire, 'they were both roughing it.' 'Look here, Baker, +that's rot and you know it. It was a deliberate and beastly trick. +Put him off!' 'He stays on!' said the umpire, and he stuck to it, +I'll give him credit for that. It was old Maitland that saved the +day. He came up smiling. 'I hope you are taking off the time, +umpire,' he said, with that little laugh of his. 'I am not going +to put Larson off,' shouted the umpire to him. 'Who asked you to?' +said Maitland. 'Go on with the game.' That saved the day. They +all started cheering. The ice was cleared and the game went on." + +"Oh, that was it. I couldn't understand. They were so savage +first, and then suddenly they all seemed to quiet down. It was +Captain Jack. Well, Mamma, on they came again! But when poor +Snoopy came out, all bandaged round the head and the blood showing +through--" + +"Quite a clever little beggar," murmured Vic. + +"Clever? What do you mean?" cried Patricia. + +"Oh, well, good psychology, I mean--that's all. Bloody bandages-- +demanding vengeance, Jack's team, you know--Macnamara, for +instance, entreating his captain for the love of heaven to put him +opposite Jumbo--shaking the morale of the enemy and so forth-- +mighty good psychology." + +"I don't know exactly what you mean," said Patricia, "but the +Cornwall defence was certainly rattled. They pulled their men back +and played defence like perfect demons, with the Mill men on to +them like tigers." + +"But Patricia, my dear," said her mother, "those are terrible +words." + +"But, Mamma, not half so terrible as the real thing. Oh, it was +perfectly splendid! And then how did it finish, Hugh? I didn't +quite see how that play came about." + +"I didn't see, either," said Hugh. + +"Didn't you?" cried Adrien, "I did. Jack and Geordie Ross were +going down the centre at a perfectly terrific speed, big Macnamara +backing them up. Out came Macnab and Jumbo Larson following him. +Macnab checked Geordie, who passed to Jack, who slipped it back to +Macnamara. Down came Jumbo like a perfect thunderbolt and fairly +hurled himself upon Macnamara. I don't know what happened then, +but--" + +"Oh, I do!" cried Vic. "When old Jumbo came hurtling down upon +Macnamara, this was evidently what Macnamara was waiting for. +Indeed, what he had been praying for all through the game. I saw +him gather himself, crouch low, lurch forward with shoulder well +down, a wrestler's trick--you know Macnamara was the champion +wrestler of his division in France--he caught Jumbo low. Result, a +terrific catapult, and the big Swede lay on his back some twenty +feet away. Everybody thought he was dead." + +"Oh, it was perfectly lovely!" exclaimed Patricia, rapturously. + +"But, my dear," said her mother, "lovely, and they thought the man +was dead!" + +"Oh, but he wasn't dead. He came to. I will say he was very +plucky. Then just as they faced off, time was called. Six to six! +Think of it, Mamma, six to six! And we had been five to two at +half time!" + +"Six to six?" said Mrs. Templeton. "But I thought you said we +won?" + +"Oh, listen, Mamma, this is the most wonderful thing of the whole +match," said Adrien, trying to break in on the tornado of words +from her younger sister. + +"No, let me, Adrien! I know exactly how it was done. Captain Jack +explained it to me before. It was Captain Jack's specialty. It +was what they call the double-circle. Here is the way it was +worked." Patricia sprang to her feet, arranged two chairs for goal +and proceeded to demonstrate. "You see, Mamma, in the single +circle play, Captain Jack and Snoopy come down--say Snoopy has the +puck. Just as they get near the goal Snoopy fools the back, rushes +round the goal and passes to Jack, who is standing in front ready +to slip it in. But of course the Cornwalls were prepared for the +play. But that is where the double-circle comes in. This time +Geordie had the puck, with Captain Jack immediately at his left and +Snoopy further out. Well, Geordie had the puck, you see. He +rushes down and pretends to make the circle of the goal. But this +time he doesn't. He tears like mad around the goal with the puck, +Snoopy tears like mad around the goal from the other side, the +defence all rush over to the left to check them, leaving the right +wide open. Snoopy takes the ball from Geordie, rushes around the +goal the other way, Mamma, do you see?--passes back to Reddy, his +partner, who slips it in! And poor Jumbo was unable to do +anything. I believe he was still dazed from his terrible fall!" + +Then Hugh breaks in: "It really was beautifully done." + +"It certainly was," said Vic. + +"Seven to six, Mamma, think of it! Seven to six, and two minutes +of the first overtime to play. Two minutes! It just seemed that +our men could do as they liked. The last time the whole forward +lines came down, with Macnamara and 'Jack' Johnson roaring and +yelling like--like--I don't know what. And they did the double- +circle again! Think of it! And then time was called. Oh, I am +perfectly exhausted with this excitement!" said Patricia, sinking +back into her chair. "I don't believe I could go down to that +rink, not even for another game. It is terribly trying!" + +At this moment Rupert Stillwell came in, full of enthusiasm for the +Cornwalls' scientific hockey, and with grudging praise for the +local team, deploring their roughhouse tactics. But he met a sharp +and unexpected check, for Adrien took him in hand, in her quiet, +cool, efficient manner. + +"Roughhouse!" she said. "What do you mean exactly by that?" + +"Well," said Rupert, somewhat taken aback, "for instance that +charge of Macnamara on Jumbo Larson at the last." + +"I saw that quite clearly," said Adrien, "and it appeared to me +quite all right. It was Larson who made the most furious charge +upon Macnamara." + +"Of course it was," cried Patricia, indignantly. "Jumbo deserved +all he got. Why, the way he mauled little Snoopy and Geordie Ross +in the first part of the game was perfectly horrid. Don't you +think so, Hugh?" + +"Oh, well, hockey is not tiddly-winks, you know, Patricia, and--" + +"As if I didn't know that!" broke in the girl indignantly. + +"And Jumbo and Macnab," continued Hugh, "really had to break up the +dangerous combination there. Of course that was a rotten assault +on Snoopy. It wasn't Jumbo's fault that he didn't break an ankle. +As it was, he gave him a very bad fall." + +At this Rupert laughed scornfully. "Rot," he said, "the whole town +is laughing at all that bloody bandage business. It was a bit of +stage play. Very clever, I confess, but no hockey. I happen to +know that Maitland was quite hot about it." + +But Hugh and Vic only laughed at him. + +"He is a clever little beggar, is Snoopy," said Vic. + +"But, meantime," said Mrs. Templeton, "where is Jack! He was going +to be here, was he not?" + +"Feasting and dancing, I expect," said Rupert. "There is a big +supper on, given by the Mill management, and a dance afterwards-- +'hot time in the old town,' eh?" + +"A dance?" gasped Patricia. "A dance! Where?" + +"Odd Fellows' Hall," said Rupert. "Want to go? I have tickets. +Don't care for that sort of thing myself. Rather a mixed affair, I +guess. Mill hands and their girls." + +"Oh," breathed Patricia, "I should love to go. Couldn't we?" + +"But my dear Patricia," said her mother, "a dance, with all those +people? What nonsense. But I wish Jack would drop in. I should +so like to congratulate him on his great victory." + +"Oh, do let us go, just for a few minutes, Mamma" entreated +Patricia. "Hugh, have you tickets?" + +The men looked at each other. + +"Well," confessed Vic, "I was thinking of dropping in myself. +After all, it is our home team and they are good sports. And +Maitland handled them with wonderful skill." + +"Yes, I am going," said Hugh. "I am bound to go as Captain of the +Eagles, and that sort of thing, but I would, anyway. Would you +care to come, Adrien, if Mrs. Templeton will allow you? Of course +there are chaperons. Maitland would see to that." + +"I should like awfully to go," said Adrien eagerly. "We might, for +a few minutes, Mother? Of course, Patricia should be in bed, +really." + +Poor Patricia's face fell. + +"It is no place for any of you," said the mother, decidedly. "Just +think of that mixed multitude! And you, Patricia, you should be in +bed." + +"But oh, Mamma, dear," wailed Patricia, "I can rest all day to- +morrow." + +At this point a new voice broke in to the discussion and Doctor +Templeton appeared. "Well, what's the excitement," he enquired. +"Oh, the match, of course! Well, what was the result?" + +"Oh, Daddy, we won, we won!" cried Patricia, springing at him. +"The most glorious match! Big Jumbo Larson, a perfect monster on +the Cornwall defence, was knocked out! Oh, it was a glorious +match! And can't I go down to see the dance? Adrien and Hugh and +Vic are going. Only for a few minutes," she begged, with her arms +around her father's neck. "Say yes, Daddy!" + +"Give me time; let me get my breath, Patricia. Now, do begin +somewhere--say, with the score." + +They all gave him the score. + +"Hurrah!" cried the old doctor. "No one hurt--seriously, I mean?" + +"No," said Patricia, "except perhaps Jumbo Larson," she added +hopefully. + +"The Lord was merciful to this family when he made you a girl, +Patricia," said her father. + +"But, Daddy, it was a wonderful game." Quite breathlessly, she +went once more over the outstanding features of the play. + +"Sounds rather bloody, I must say," said her father, doubtfully. + +But Hugh said: "It was not really--not quite so bad as Patricia +makes it, sir. Rough at times, of course, but, on the whole, +clean." + +"Clean," cried Patricia, "what about Jumbo's swing at Snoopy?" + +"Oh, well, Snoopy had the puck, you know. It was a little off- +colour, I must confess." + +"And now, Daddy," said Patricia, going at her father again, "we all +want to go down to the dance. There will be speeches, you know, +and I do want to hear Captain Jack," she added, not without guile. +"Won't you let me go with them? Hugh will take care of me." + +"I think I should rather like to go myself," said her father. A +shout of approval rose from the whole company. "But," continued +the doctor, "I don't think I can. My dear, I think they might go +for a few minutes--and you can bring me in a full account of the +speeches, Patricia," he added, with a twinkle in his eye. + +"But, my dear," exclaimed his wife, "this is one of those awful +public affairs. You can't imagine what they are like. The Mill +hands will all be there, and that sort of people." + +"Well, my dear, Jack Maitland will be there, I fancy, and you were +thinking of going, Hugh?" + +"Yes, sir, I am going. Of course there will be a number of the +friends of both teams, townspeople. Of course the Mill hands will +be there, too, in large numbers. It will be great fun." + +"Well, my dear," said the doctor, "I think they might go down for a +few minutes. But be sure to be back before midnight. Remember, +Patricia, you are to do exactly as your sister says." + +Then Vic said: "I shall keep a firm hand on her, sir." + +"Oh, you darling," Patricia cried, hugging her father rapturously. +"I will be so good; and won't it be fun!" + +Odd Fellows' Hall was elaborately decorated with bunting and +evergreens. The party from the Rectory, arriving in time to hear +the closing speeches of the two team captains, took their places in +the gallery. The speeches were brief and to the point. + +The Captain of the visiting team declared that he had greatly +enjoyed the game. He was not quite convinced that the best team +had won, but he would say that the game had gone to the team that +had put up the best play. He complimented Captain Maitland upon +his generalship. He had known Captain Maitland in the old days and +he ought to have been on the lookout for the kind of thing he had +put over. The Maitland Mill team had made a perfectly wonderful +recovery in the last quarter, though he rather thought his friend +Macnamara had helped it a little at a critical point. + +"He did that," exclaimed Jumbo Larson, with marked emphasis. + +After the roar of laughter had quieted down, the Cornwall Captain +closed by expressing the hope that the Maitland Mill team would try +for a place next season in the senior hockey. In which case he +expressed the hope that he might have the pleasure of meeting them +again. + +Captain Maitland's speech was characteristic. He had nothing but +praise for the Cornwalls. They played a wonderful game and a clean +game. He shared in the doubt of their Captain as to which was the +better team. He frankly confessed that in the last quarter the +luck came to his team. + +"Not a bit of it," roared the Cornwalls with one voice. + +As to his own team, he was particularly proud of the way they had +taken the training--their fine self-denial, and especially the +never-dying spirit which they showed. It was a great honour for +his team to meet the Cornwalls. A hard team to meet--sometimes--as +Snoopy and himself had found out that evening--but they were good +sports and he hoped some day to meet them again. + +After the usual cheers for the teams, individually and collectively, +for their supporters, for the Mill management and for the ladies, +the dinner came to an end, the whole party joining with wide open +throats and all standing at attention, in the Canadian and the +Empire national anthems. + +While the supper table was being cleared away preparatory to the +dance, Captain Jack rushed upstairs to the party in the gallery. +Patricia flung herself at him in an ecstasy of rapture. + +"Oh! Captain Jack, you did win! You did win! You did win! It was +glorious! And that double-circle play that you and Snoopy put up-- +didn't it work beautifully!" + +"We were mighty lucky," said Captain Jack. + +The others, Hugh, Vic and Rupert, crowded round, offering +congratulations. Adrien waited behind, a wonderful light shining +in her eyes, a faint colour touching her pale cheek. Captain Jack +came slowly forward. + +"Are you not going to congratulate us, too, Adrien?" he said. + +She moved a pace forward. + +"Oh, Jack," she whispered, leaning toward him and breathing +quickly, "it was so like the old, the dear old days." + +Into Maitland's eyes there flashed a look of surprise, of wonder, +then of piercing scrutiny, while his face grew white. + +"Adrien," he said, in a voice low, tense, almost stern, which she +alone heard. "What do you mean? Then do you--" + +"Oh, Captain Jack," cried Patricia, catching his arm, "are you +going to dance? You are, aren't you? And will you give me-- Oh, +I daren't ask! You are such a great hero to-night!" + +"Why, Patsy, will you give me a dance?" + +The girl stood gazing at him with eyes that grew misty, the quick +beating of her loyal heart almost suffocating her. + +"Oh, Captain Jack," she gasped, "how many?" + +Maitland laughed at her, and turned to her sister. + +"And you, Adrien, may I have a dance?" + +Again Adrien leaned toward him. + +"One?" she asked. + +"And as many more as you can spare." + +"My program is quite empty, you see," she said, flinging out her +hands and laughing joyously into his face. + +"What about me? And me? And me?" said the other three men. + +"I suppose we are all nowhere to-night," added Rupert, with a touch +of bitterness in his voice. + +"Well, there is only one conquering hero, you know," replied +Adrien, smiling at them all. + +"Now I must run off," said Maitland. "You see, I am on duty, as it +were. Come down in a few minutes." + +"Yes, go, Jack," said Adrien, throwing him a warm smile. "We will +follow you in a few minutes." + +"Oh, I am so excited!" said Patricia, as Maitland disappeared down +the stairs. "I mean to dance with every one of the team. I know I +am going to have a perfectly lovely time! But I would give them +all up if I could have Captain Jack all the time." + +"Pig," said her sister, smiling at her. + +"Wretch," cried Vic, making a face. + +But Patricia was quite unabashed. "I am going to have him just as +often as I can," she said, brazenly. + +For a few minutes they stood watching the dancers on the floor +below. It was indeed, as Mrs. Templeton had said, a "mixed +multitude." Mill hands and their girls, townsfolk whose social +standing was sufficiently assured to endure the venture. A mixed +multitude, but thoroughly jolly, making up in vigour what was +lacking in grace in their exposition of the Terpsichorean art. + +"Rather ghastly," said Rupert, who appeared to be quite disgusted +with the whole evening's proceedings. + +"Lovely!" exclaimed Patricia. + +"They are enjoying themselves, at any rate," said Adrien, "and, +after all, that is what people dance for." + +"Stacks of fun. I am all for it, eh, Pat?" said Vic, making +adoring eyes at the young girl. + +But Patricia severely ignored him. + +"Oh, Adrien, look!" she cried suddenly. "There is Annette, and who +is the big man with her? Oh, what an awful dancer he is! But +Annette, isn't she wonderful! What a lovely dress! I think she is +the most beautiful thing." And Patricia was right, for Annette was +radiant in colour and unapproachable in the grace of her movement. + +"By Jove! She is a wonder!" said Vic. "Some dancer, if she only +had a chance." + +"Well, why don't you go down, Vic," said Patricia sharply. "You +know you are just aching to show off your fox trot. Run away, +little boy, I won't mind." + +"I don't believe you would," replied Vic ruefully. + +For some minutes longer they all stood watching the scene below. + +"They are a jolly crowd," said Adrien. "I don't think we have half +the fun at our dances." + +"They certainly get a lot for their money," said Vic. "But wait +till they come to 'turkey-in-the-straw!' That is where they really +cut loose." + +"Oh, pshaw!" cried Patricia. "I can 'turkey' myself. Just wait +and you'll see." + +"So can I," murmured Vic. "Will you let me in on it? Hello," he +continued, "there is the Captain and Annette. Now look out for +high art. I know the Captain's style. And a two-step! My eye! +She is a little airy fairy!" + +"How beautifully she dances," said Adrien. "And how charmingly she +is dressed." + +"They do hit it off, don't they," said Rupert. "They evidently +know each other's paces." + +Suddenly Adrien turned to Hugh: "Don't you think we should go +down?" she asked. "You know we must not stay late." + +"Yes, do come along!" cried Patricia, seizing Victor by the arm and +hurrying to the stairs, the others making their way more leisurely +to the dancing room. + +The hall was a scene of confused hilarity. Maitland was nowhere to +be seen. + +"Oh! let us dance, Vic!" cried Patricia. "There is really no use +waiting for Captain Jack. At any rate, Adrien will claim the first +dance." + +No second invitation was needed and together they swung off into +the medley of dancers. + +"We may as well follow," said Hugh. "We shall doubtless run into +Maitland somewhere before long." + +But not in that dance, nor in the three successive dances did +Maitland appear. The precious moments were slipping by. Patricia +was becoming more and more anxious and fretful at the non- +appearance of her hero. Also, Hugh began to notice and detect a +lagging in his partner's step. + +"Shall we go out into the corridor?" he said. "This air is +beginning to be rather trying." + +From the crowded hall they passed into the corridor, from which +opened side rooms which were used as dressing and retiring rooms, +and whose entrances were cleverly screened by a row of thick spruce +trees set up for the occasion. + +"This is better," said Hugh, drawing a deep breath. "Shall we sit +a bit and rest?" + +"Oh, do let us," said Adrien. "This has been a strenuous and +exciting evening. I really feel quite done out. Here is a most +inviting seat." + +Wearily she sat down on a bench which faced the entrance to one of +the rooms. + +"Shall I bring you a glass of water or an ice, Adrien?" inquired +Hugh, noting the pallor in her face. + +"Thank you. A glass of water, if you will be so kind. How +deliciously fragrant that spruce is." + +As her partner set off upon his errand, Adrien stepped to the +spruce tree which screened the open door of the room opposite, and +taking the bosky branches in her hands, she thrust her face into +the aromatic foliage. + +"How deliciously fragrant," she murmured. + +Suddenly, as if stabbed by a spine in the trees, she started back +and stood gazing through the thick branches into the room beyond +There stood Maitland and Annette, the girl, with her face tearfully +pale and pleading, uplifted to his and with her hands gripped tight +and held fast in his, clasped against his breast. More plainly +than words her face, her eyes, her attitude told her tale. She was +pouring out her very soul to him in entreaty, and he was giving +eager, sympathetic heed to her appeal. + +Swiftly Adrien stepped back from the screening tree, her face white +as if from a stunning blow, her heartbeats checking her breath. +Quickly, blindly, she ran down the corridor. At the very end she +met Hugh with a glass of water in his hand. + +"What is the matter, Adrien? Have you seen a ghost?" he cried in +an anxious voice. + +She caught the glass from his hand and began to drink, at first +greedily, then more slowly. + +"Ah!" she said, drawing a deep breath. "That is good. Do you +know, I was almost overcome. The air of that room is quite deadly. +Now I am all right. Let us get a breath from the outside, Hugh." + +Taking him by the arm, she hastened him to the farther end of the +corridor and opened the door. "Oh, delicious!" She drew in deep +breaths of the cold, fresh air. + +"How wonderful the night is, Hugh." She leaned far out, "and the +snow was like a cloth of silver and diamonds in this glorious +moon." She stooped, and from a gleaming bank beside the door she +caught up a double handful of the snow and, packing it into a +little ball, flung it at her partner, catching him fairly on the +ear. + +"Aha!" she cried. "Don't ever say a woman is a poor shot. Now +then," she added, stamping her feet free from the clinging flakes +and waving her hands in the air to dry them, "I feel fit for +anything. Let us have one more dance before we go home, for I feel +we really must go." + +"You are sure you are quite fit?" inquired Hugh, still anxious for +her. + +"Fit? Look at me!" Her cheeks were bright with colour, her eyes +with light. + +"You surely do look fit," said Hugh, beaming at her with frank +admiration. "But you were all in a few moments ago." + +"Come along. There is a way into the hall by this door," she +cried, catching his hand and hurrying him into the dancing room +again. + +At the conclusion of their dance they came upon Patricia near the +main entrance, in great distress. "I have not seen Captain Jack +anywhere," she lamented. "Have you, Adrien? I have just sent Vic +for a final search. I simply cannot go home till I have had my +dance." The girl was almost in tears. + +"Never mind, dear," said Adrien. "He has many duties to-night with +all these players to look after. I think we had better go whenever +Vic returns. I am awfully sorry for you, Patricia," she added. +"No! Don't! You simply must not cry here." She put her arm +around her sister's shoulder, her own lips trembling, and drew her +close. "Where has Vic gone, I wonder?" + +That young man, however, was having his own trials. In his search +for Maitland he ran across McNish, whom he recognised as Annette's +partner in the first dance. + +"Hello!" he cried. "Do you know where Captain Maitland is, by any +chance?" + +"No, how should I know," replied McNish, in a voice fiercely +guttural. + +"Oh!" said Vic, somewhat abashed. "I saw you dance with Annette-- +with Miss Perrotte--and I thought perhaps you might know where the +Captain was." + +McNish stood glowering at him for a moment or two, then burst +forth: + +"They are awa'--he's ta'en her awa'." + +"Away," said Vic. "Where?" + +"To hell for all I ken or care." + +Then with a single stride McNish was close at his side, gripping +his arm with fingers that seemed to reach the bone. + +"Ye're a friend o' his. Let me say tae ye if ony ill cames tae +her, by the leevin' God above us he wull answer tae me." Hoarse, +panting, his face that of a maniac, he stood glaring wild-eyed at +the young man before him. To say that Vic was shaken by this +sudden and violent onslaught would be much within the truth. +Nevertheless he boldly faced the passion-distracted man. + +"Look here! I don't know who you are or what you mean," he said, +in as steady tones as he could summon, "but if you suggest that any +girl will come to harm from Captain Maitland, then I say you are a +liar and a fool." So speaking, little Vic set himself for the rush +which he was firmly convinced would come. McNish, however, stood +still, fighting for control. Then, between his deep-drawn breaths, +he slowly spoke: + +"Ye may be richt. A hope tae God A am baith liar and fule." The +agony in his face moved Vic to pity. + +"I say, old chap," he said, "you are terribly mistaken somehow, I +can swear to that. Where is Maitland, anyway, do you know?" + +"They went away together." McNish had suddenly gotten himself in +hand. "They went away in his car, secretly." + +"Secretly," said Vic, scornfully. "Now, that is perfect rot. Look +here, do you know Captain Maitland? I am his friend, and let me +tell you that all I ever hope to own, here and hereafter, and all +my relatives and friends, I would gladly trust with him." + +"Maybe, maybe," muttered McNish. "Ye may be richt. A apologise, +sir, but if--" His eyes blazed again. + +"Aw, cut out the tragedy stuff," said Vic, "and don't be an ass. +Good-night." + +Vic turned on his heel and left McNish standing in a dull and dazed +condition, and made his way toward the ballroom. + +"Who is the Johnny, anyway?" he said to himself. "He is mad-- +looney--utterly bughouse. Needs a keeper in the worst way. But +what about the Captain--must think up something. Let's see. Taken +suddenly ill? Hardly--there is the girl to account for. Her +mother--grandmother--or something--stricken--let's see. Annette +has a brother--By Jove! the very thing--I've got it--brother met +with an accident--run over--fell down a well--anything. Hurry +call--ambulance stuff. Good line. Needs working up a bit, though. +What has happened to my grey matter? Let me think. Ah, yes--when +that Johnny brought word of an accident, a serious accident to her +brother, Maitland, naturally enough, the gallant soul, hurries her +off in his car, sending word by aforesaid mad Johnny." + +Vic went to the outer door, feeling the necessity for a somewhat +careful conning of his tale to give it, as he said himself, a +little artistic verisimilitude. Then, with his lesson--as he +thought--well learned, and praying for aid of unknown gods, he went +back to find his partner. + +"If only Patricia will keep out of it," he said to himself as he +neared the hall door, "or if I could only catch old Hugh first. +But he is not much of a help in this sort of thing. Dash it all! +I am quite nervous. This will never do. Must find a way--good +effect--cool and collected stuff." So, ruminating and praying and +moving ever more slowly, he reached the door. Coming in sight of +his party, he hurried to meet them. "Awfully sorry!" he exclaimed +excitedly. "The most rotten luck! Old Maitland's just been called +off." + +"Called off!" cried Patricia, in dismay. "Where to!" + +"Now, don't jump at me like that. Remember my heart. Met that +Johnny--the big chap dancing with Annette, you know--just met him-- +quite worked up--a hurry call for the girl--for the girl, Annette, +you know." + +"The girl!" exclaimed Patricia. "You said Captain Jack." + +"I know! I know!" replied Vic, somewhat impatiently. "I am a bit +excited, I confess. Rather nasty thing--Annette's brother, you +know--something wrong--accident, I think. Couldn't get the +particulars." + +"But Annette's brother is in Toronto," said Adrien, gravely. + +"Exactly!" cried Vic. "That is what I have been telling you. A +hurry call--phone message for Annette--horrible accident. Maitland +rushed her right away in his car to catch the midnight to Toronto." + +"By Jove! That is too bad," said Hugh, a genuine sympathy in his +honest voice. "That is hard luck on poor Annette. Tony is not +exactly a safe proposition, you know." + +"Was he--is he killed?" cried Patricia, in a horror-stricken voice. + +"Killed! Not a bit of it," said Vic cheerfully. "Slight injury-- +but serious, I mean. You know, just enough to cause anxiety." Vic +lit another cigarette with ostentatious deliberation. "Nasty +shock, you know," he said. + +"Who told you all this?" inquired Rupert. + +"Who told me?" said Vic. "Why, that mad Johnny." + +"Mad Johnny? What mad Johnny?" + +Vic said: "Eh! What? You know, that--ahr--big chap who was +falling over her in the fox trot. Looked kind of crazy, you know-- +big chap--Scotch." + +"Where is he now?" enquired Rupert. + +"Oh, I fancy about there, somewhere," replied Vic, remembering that +he had seen McNish moving toward the door. "Better go and look him +up and get more particulars. Might help some, you know." + +"Oh, Adrien, let us go to her," said Patricia. "I am sure Annette +would love to have you. Poor Annette!" + +"Oh! I say!" interposed Vic hurriedly. "There is really no +necessity. I shouldn't like to intrude in family affairs and that +sort of thing, you know what I mean." + +Adrien's grave, quiet eyes were upon Vic's face. "You think we had +better not go, then," she said slowly. + +"Sure thing!" replied Vic, with cheerful optimism. "There is no +necessity--slight accident--no need to make a fuss about it." + +"But you said it was a serious accident--a terrible thing," said +Patricia. + +"Oh, now, Patricia, come out of it. You check a fellow up so hard. +Can't you understand the Johnny was so deucedly worked up over it +he couldn't give me the right of it. Dash it all! Let's have +another turn, Patricia!" + +But Adrien said: "I think we will go home, Hugh." + +"Very well, if you think so, Adrien. I don't fancy you need worry +over Annette. The accident probably is serious but not dangerous. +Tony is a tough fellow." + +"Exactly!" exclaimed Vic. "Just as I have been telling you. +Serious, but not dangerous. At least, that was the impression I +got." + +"Oh, Vic, you are so terribly confusing!" exclaimed Patricia. "Why +can't you get things straight? I say, Adrien, we can ride round to +Annette's on our way home, and then we will get things quite +clearly." + +"Certainly," said Hugh. "It will only take us a minute. Eh, +what!" he added to Vic, who was making frantic grimaces at him. +"Well, if you ladies will get your things, we will go." + +"But I am so disappointed," said Patricia to Adrien, as they went +to their dressing room together. + +After they had gone, Hugh turned upon Vic: "Now then, what the +deuce and all are you driving at?" + +"Driving at!" cried Vic, in an exasperated tone. "You are a sweet +support for a fellow in distress. I am a nervous wreck--a perfect +mess. Another word from that kid and I should have run screaming +into the night. And as for you, why the deuce didn't you buck up +and help a fellow out?" + +"Help you out? How in the name of all that is reasonable could I +help you out? What is all the yarn about? Of course I know it +isn't true. Where's Maitland?" + +"Search me," said Vic. "All I know is that I hit upon that Scotch +Johnny out in the hall--he nearly wrenched an arm off me and did +everything but bite--spitting out incoherent gaspings indicating +that Maitland had 'gone awa' wi' his gur-r-l, confound him!' and +suggesting the usual young Lochinvar stuff. You know--nothing in +it, of course. But what was I to do? Some tale was necessary! +Fortunately or unfortunately, brother Tony sprang to the thing I +call my mind and--well, you know the mess I made of it. But Hugh, +remember, for heaven's sake, make talk about something--about the +match--and get that girl quietly home. I bag the back seat and +Adrien. It is hard on me, I know, but fifteen minutes more of +Patsy and I shall be counting my tootsies and prattling nursery +rhymes. Here they come," he breathed. "Now, 'a little forlorn +hope, deadly breach act, if you love me, Hardy.' Play up, old +boy!" + +And with commendable enthusiasm and success, Hugh played up, +supported--as far as his physical and mental condition allowed--by +the enfeebled Vic, till they had safely deposited their charges at +the Rectory door, whence, refusing an invitation to stop for cocoa, +they took their homeward way. + +"'And from famine, pestilence and sudden death,' and from the once- +over by that penetrating young female, 'good Lord, deliver us,'" +murmured Vic, falling into the seat beside his friend. "Take me +home to mother," he added, and refused further speech till at his +own door. He waved a weak adieu and staggered feebly into the +house. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE NEW MANAGER + + +Grant Maitland sat in his office, plainly disturbed in his mind. +His resolute face, usually reflecting the mental repose which +arises from the consciousness of a strength adequate to any +emergency, carried lines which revealed a mind which had lost its +poise. Reports from his foremen indicated brooding trouble, and +this his own observation within the last few weeks confirmed. +Production was noticeably falling low. The attitude of the workers +suggested suspicion and discontent. That fine glow of comradeship +which had been characteristic of all workers in the Maitland Mills +had given place to a sullen aloofness and a shiftiness of eye that +all too plainly suggested evil forces at work. + +During the days immediately preceding and following the Great +Match, there had been a return of that frank and open bearing that +had characterised the employees of the Maitland Mills in the old +days, but that fleeting gleam of sunshine had faded out and the old +grey shadow of suspicion, of discontent, had fallen again. To +Maitland this attitude brought a disappointment and a resentment +which sensibly added to his burden, already heavy enough in these +days of weakening markets and falling prices. In his time he had +come through periods of financial depression. He was prepared for +one such period now, but he had never passed through the unhappy +experience of a conflict with his own employees. Not that he had +ever feared a fight, but he shrank from a fight with his own men. +It humiliated him. He felt it to be a reflection upon his system +of management, upon his ability to lead and control, indeed, upon +his personality. But, more than all, it grieved him to feel that +he had lost that sense of comradeship which for forty years he had +been able to preserve with those who toiled with him in a common +enterprise. + +A sense of loneliness fell upon him. Like many a man, self-made +and self-sufficing, he craved companionship which his characteristic +qualities of independence and strength seemed to render unnecessary +and undesired. The experience of all leaders of men was his, for +the leader is ever a lonely man. + +This morning the reports he had just received convinced him that a +strike with his workers would not long be delayed. "If I only knew +what they really wanted," he bitterly mused. "It cannot be wages. +Their wages are two or three times what they were before the war-- +shop conditions are all that could be desired--the Lord knows I +have spent enough in this welfare stuff and all that sort of thing +during these hard times. I have heard of no real grievances. I am +sick of it all. I guess I am growing too old for this sort of +thing." + +There was a tap at the door and his son appeared, with a cheery +greeting. + +"Come in, Jack," said his father, "I believe you are the very man I +want." + +"Hello, Dad. You look as if you were in trouble." + +"Well," replied his father with a keen look at him, "I think I may +return the compliment." + +"Well, yes, but perhaps I should not bother you. You have all you +can carry." + +"All I can carry," echoed Maitland, picking up the reports from his +desk and handing them to his son, who glanced over them. "Things +are not going well at the mills. No, you needn't tell me. You +know I never ask you for any confidences about your brother +unionists." + +"Right you are, Dad. You have always played the game." + +"Well, I must confess this is beyond me. Everywhere on the men's +faces I catch that beastly look of distrust and suspicion. I hate +to work with men like that. And very obviously, trouble is +brewing, but what it is, frankly, it is beyond me to know." + +"Well, it is hardly a secret any longer," said Jack. "Trouble is +coming, Dad, though what form it shall take I am not in a position +to say. Union discipline is a fierce thing. The rank and file are +not taken into the confidence of the leaders. Policies are decided +upon in the secret councils of the Great Ones and handed down to us +to adopt. Of course, it is open to any man to criticise, and I am +bound to say that the rankers exercise that privilege with +considerable zest. All the same, however, it is difficult to +overturn an administration, hard to upset established order. The +thing that is, is the thing that ought to be. Rejection of an +administration policy demands revolution." + +"Well," said his father, taking the sheets from Jack's hand, "we +needn't go to meet the trouble. Now, let us have yours. What is +your particular grief?" + +"Tony," said Jack shortly. + +"Tony?" echoed his father in dismay. "Heaven help us! And what +now has come to Tony? Though I must confess I have been expecting +this for some time. It had to come." + +"It is a long story, Dad, and I shan't worry you with the details. +As you know, after leaving us, Tony went from one job to another +with the curve steadily downwards. For the last few months, I +gather, he has been living on his wits, helped out by generous +contributions from his sister's wages. Finally he was given a +subordinate position under "The Great War Veterans" who have really +been very decent to him. This position involved the handling of +funds--no great amount. Then it was the old story--gambling and +drinking--the loss of all control--desperate straits--hoping to +recoup his losses--and you know the rest." + +"Embezzlement?" asked Maitland. + +"Yes, embezzlement," said Jack. "Tony is not a thief. He didn't +deliberately steal, you understand." + +"Jack," said his father, sharply, "get that out of your head. +There is no such distinction in law or in fact. Stealing is +stealing, whatever the motive behind it, whatever the plan +governing it, by whatever name called." + +"I didn't really mean anything else, Dad. Tony did the thing, at +any rate, and the cops were on his trail. He got into hiding, sent +an S. O. S. to his sister. Annette, driven to desperation, came to +me with her story the night of the Match. She was awfully cut up, +poor girl. I had to leave the dance and go right off to Toronto. +Too late for the train, I drove straight through,--ghastly roads,-- +found Tony, fetched him back, and up till yesterday he has been +hiding in his own home. Meantime, I managed to get things fixed +up--paid his debts, the prosecution is withdrawn and now he wants,-- +or, rather, he doesn't want but needs, a job." + +Maitland listened with a grave face. "Then the little girl was +right, after all," he said. + +"Meaning?" + +"Patricia," said his father. "She told me a long story of a +terrible accident to Tony that had called you away to Toronto. I +must say it was rather incoherent." + +"But who told her? I swear not a soul knew but his people and +myself," said Jack. + +"Strange how things get out," said his father. "Well, where is +Tony now?" + +"Here, in the outer office." + +"But," said Maitland, desperately, "where can we place him? He is +impossible in any position--dangerous in the office, useless as a +foreman, doubtful and uncertain as a workman." + +"One thing is quite certain," said Jack decidedly, "he must be +under discipline. He is useless on his own. I thought that +perhaps he might work beside me. I could keep an eye on him. +Tony has nothing in him to work with. I should like to hear old +Matheson on him--the Reverend Murdo, I mean. That is a great theme +of his--'To the man who has nothing you can give nothing.'" + +"Matheson?" said Maitland. "A chum of yours, I understand. +Radical, eh?" + +"A very decent sort, father," replied Jack. "I have been doing a +little economics with him during the winter. His radicalism is of +a sound type, I think. He is a regular bear at economics and he is +even better at the humanity business, the brother-man stuff. He is +really sound there." + +"I can guess what you mean," said his father, "though I don't quite +catch on to all your jargon. But I confess that I suspect there is +a whole lot of nonsense associated with these theories." + +"You will pardon me, Dad," said Jack, "if I suggest that your +education is really not yet complete." + +"Whose is?" inquired his father, curtly. + +"But about Tony," continued Jack, "I wish I had him in a gang under +me. I would work him, or break his neck." + +His father sat silently pondering for some minutes. Then, as if +making a sudden resolve, he said: "Jack, I have been wanting to +speak with you about something for some weeks. I have come to a +place where it is imperative that I get some relief from my load. +You see, I am carrying the whole burden of management practically +alone. I look after the financing, the markets, I keep an eye on +production and even upon the factory management. In normal +conditions I could manage to get along, but in these critical days, +when every department calls for close, constant and sane supervision, +I feel that I must have relief. If I could be relieved of the job +of shop management, I could give myself to the other departments +where the situation at present is extremely critical. I want a +manager, Jack. Why not take the job? Now," he continued, holding +up his hand, as his son was about to speak, "listen for a moment or +two. I have said the situation is serious. Let me explain that. +The financing of this business in the present crisis requires a +man's full time and energy. Markets, credits, collections, all +demand the very closest attention." + +Jack glanced at his father's face. For the first time he noticed +how deep-cut were the lines that indicated care, anxiety and worry. +A sudden remorse seized him. + +"I am awfully sorry, sir," he said, "I have not been of much help +to you." + +Maitland waved his hand as if dismissing the suggestion. "Now you +know nothing of the financial side, but you do know men and you can +handle them. You proved that in the war, and, in another way, you +proved that during this recent athletic contest. I followed that +very closely and I say without hesitation that it was a remarkably +fine bit of work and the reactions were of the best. Jack, I +believe that you would make a great manager if you gave yourself to +it, and thought it worth while. Now, listen to me." Thereupon the +father proceeded to lay before his son the immediately pressing +problems in the business--the financial obligations already +assumed, the heavy accumulation of stock for which there were no +markets, the increasing costs in production with no hope of relief, +but rather every expectation of added burdens in this direction. + +As he listened to his father, Jack was appalled with what he +considered the overwhelmingly disastrous situation in which the +business was placed. At the same time he saw his father in a new +light. This silent, stern, reserved man assumed a role of hero in +his eyes, facing desperate odds and silently fighting a lonely and +doubtful battle. The son was smitten with a sense of his own +futility. In him was born a desire and a resolve to stand beside +his father in this conflict and if the battle went against them, to +share in the defeat. + +"Dad," cried his son impulsively, "I am a rotter. I have been of +no help to you, but only a burden. I had no idea the situation was +so serious." Remorse and alarm showed in his tone. + +"Don't misunderstand me," said his father. "This is new to you and +appears more serious than it is. There is really no ground, or +little ground, for anxiety or alarm. Let me give you the other +side." Then he proceeded to set forth the resources of the +business, the extent of his credit, his plans to meet the present +situation and to prepare for possible emergencies. "We are not at +the wall yet, by any means, Jack," he said, his voice ringing out +with a resolute courage. "But I am bound to say that if any sudden +or untoward combination of circumstances, a strike, for instance, +should arise, disaster might follow." + +Jack's heart sank still lower. He was practically certain that a +strike was imminent. Although without any official confirmation of +his suspicions, he had kept his eyes and ears opened and he was +convinced that trouble was unavoidable. As his father continued to +set forth his plans, his admiration for him grew. He brought to +bear upon the problems with which he was grappling a clear head, +wide knowledge and steady courage. He was a general, planning a +campaign in the face of serious odds. He recalled a saying of his +old Commander-in-Chief in France: "War is a business and will be +won by the application of business principles and business methods. +Given a body of fighting men such as I command, the thing becomes a +problem of transportation, organization, reserve, insurance. War +is a business and will be won by fighting men directed or governed +by business principles." He was filled with regret that he had not +given himself more during these last months to the study of these +principles. The prospect of a fight against impending disaster +touched his imagination and stimulated him like a bugle call. + +"I see what you want, father," he said. "You want to have some +good N. C. O.'s. The N. C. O. is the backbone of the army," he +quoted with a grin. + +"N. C. O?" echoed his father. He was not sufficiently versed in +military affairs to catch the full meaning of the army rag. + +"What I mean is," said Jack, "that no matter how able a military +commander is, he must have efficient subordinates to carry on. No +Colonel can do his own company and platoon work." + +His father nodded: "You've got it, Jack. I want a manager to whom +I can entrust a policy without ever having to think of it again. I +don't want a man who gets on top of the load, but one who gets +under it." + +"You want a good adjutant, father, and a sergeant-major." + +"I suppose so," said the father, "although your military terms are +a little beyond me. After all, the thing is simple enough. On the +management side, we want increase in production, which means +decrease in production costs, and this means better organization of +the work and the workers." + +Jack nodded and after a moment, said: "May I add, sir, one thing +more?" + +"Yes," said his father. + +"Team play," said Jack. "That is my specialty, you know. +Individualism in a game may be spectacularly attractive, but it +doesn't get the goal." + +"Team play," said his father. "Co-operation, I suppose you mean. +My dear boy, this is no time for experimentation in profit-sharing +schemes, if that is what you are after. Anyway, the history of +profiteering schemes as I have read it is not such as to warrant +entire confidence in their soundness. You cannot change the +economic system overnight." + +"That is true enough, Dad," said his son, "and perhaps I am a fool. +But I remember, and you remember, what everybody said, and +especially what the experts said, about the military methods and +tactics before the war. You say you cannot change the economic +system overnight, and yet the whole military system was changed +practically overnight. In almost every particular, there was a +complete revolution. Cavalry, fortress defences, high explosives, +the proper place for machine guns, field tactics, in fact, the +whole business was radically changed. And if we hadn't changed, +they would be speaking German in the schools of England, like +enough, by this time." + +"Jack, you may be right," said his father, with a touch of +impatience, "but I don't want to be worried just now. It is easy +enough for your friend, Matheson, and other academic industrial +directors, to suggest experiments with other people's money. If we +could only get production, I would not mind very much what wages we +had to pay. But I confess when industrial strife is added to my +other burdens, it is almost more than I can bear." + +"I am awfully sorry, Dad," replied his son. "I have no wish to +worry you, but how are you going to get production? Everybody says +it has fallen off terribly during and since the war. How are you +going to bring it up? Not by the pay envelope, I venture to say, +and that is why I suggested team play. And I am not thinking about +co-operative schemes of management, either. Some way must be found +to interest the fellows in their job, in the work itself, as +distinct from the financial returns. Unless the chaps are +interested in the game, they won't get the goals." + +"My boy," said his father wearily, "that old interest in work is +gone. That old pride in work which we used to feel when I was at +the job myself, is gone. We have a different kind of workman +nowadays." + +"Dad, don't believe that," said Jack. "Remember the same thing was +said before the war. We used to hear all about that decadent race +stuff. The war proved it to be all rot. The race is as fine as +ever it was. Our history never produced finer fighting men." + +"You may be right," said his father. "If we could only get rid of +these cursed agitators." + +"There again, Dad, if you will excuse me, I believe you are +mistaken. I have been working with these men for the last nine +months, I have attended very regularly the meetings of their unions +and I have studied the whole situation with great care. The union +is a great institution. I am for it heart and soul. It is soundly +and solidly democratic, and the agitators cut very little figure. +I size up the whole lot about this way: Fifty per cent of the men +are steady-going fellows with ambition to climb; twenty-five per +cent are content to grub along for the day's pay and with no great +ambition worrying them. Of the remainder, ten per cent are sincere +and convinced reformers, more or less half-baked intellectuals; ten +per cent love the sound of their own voices, hate work and want to +live by their jaw, five per cent only are unscrupulous and selfish +agitators. But, Dad, believe me, fire-brands may light fires, but +solid fagots only can keep fires going. You cannot make +conflagrations out of torches alone." + +"That is Matheson, I suppose," said his father, smiling at him. + +"Well, I own up. I have got a lot of stuff from Matheson. All the +same I believe I have fairly sized up the labour situation." + +"Boy, boy," said his father, "I am tired of it all. I believe with +some team play you and I could make it go. Alone, I am not so +sure. Will you take the job?" + +There was silence between them for a few minutes. Then Jack +answered slowly: "I am not sure of myself at all, Dad, but I can +see you must have someone and I am willing to try the planing +mill." + +"Thank you, boy," said his father, stretching his hand quickly +across the table, "I will back you up and won't worry you. Within +reasonable limits I will give you a free hand." + +"I know you will, Dad," said Jack, "and of course I have been in +the army long enough to know the difference between the O. C. and +the sergeant-major." + +"Now, what about Tony?" inquired Maitland, reverting suddenly to +what both felt to be a painful and perplexing problem. "What are +we to do with him?" + +"I will take him on," said Jack. "I suppose I must." + +"He will be a heavy handicap to you, boy. Is there no other way?" + +"I see no other way," Jack replied. "I will give him a trial. +Shall I bring him in?" + +"Bring him in." + +In a minute or two Jack returned with Tony. As Maitland's eyes +fell upon him, he could not prevent a start of shocked surprise. + +"Why, Tony!" he exclaimed. "What in all the world is wrong with +you? You are ill." Trembling, pale, obviously unstrung, Tony +stood before him, his shifty eyes darting now at one face, then at +the other, his hands restless, his whole appearance suggesting an +imminent nervous collapse. "Why, Tony, boy, what is wrong with +you?" repeated Maitland. The kindly tone proved too much for +Tony's self-control. He gulped, choked, and stood speechless, his +eyes cast down to the floor. + +"Sit down, Tony," said Maitland. "Give him a chair, Jack." + +But Jack said, "He doesn't need a chair. He is not here for a +visit. You wanted to say something to him, did you not?" Jack's +dry, matter-of-fact and slightly contemptuous tone had an instant +and extraordinary effect upon the wretched man beside him. + +Instantly, Tony stiffened up. His head went back, he cast a swift +glance at Jack's face, whose smile, slightly quizzical, slightly +contemptuous, appeared to bite into his vitals. A hot flame of +colour swept his pale and pasty face. + +"I want a job, sir," he said, in a tone low and fierce, looking +straight at Mr. Maitland. + +Maitland, taking his cue from his son, replied in a quiet voice: +"Can you hold a job?" + +"God knows," said Tony. + +"He does," replied Maitland, "but what about you?" + +Tony stood for a few moments saying nothing, darting uncertain +glances now and then at Jack, on whose face still lingered the +smile which Tony found so disturbing. + +"If you want work," continued Mr. Maitland, "and want to make it +go, Tony, you can go with Jack. He will give it to you." + +"Jack!" exclaimed Tony. His face was a study. Uncertainty, fear, +hope, disappointment were all there. + +"Yes, Jack," said Mr. Maitland. "He is manager in these works +now." + +Tony threw back his head and laughed. "I guess I will have to +work, then," he said. + +"You just bet you will, Tony," replied Jack. "Come along, we will +go." + +"Where?" + +"I am taking you home. See you to-night, sir," Jack added, nodding +to his father. + +The two young men passed out together to the car. + +"Yes, Tony," said Jack, "I have taken over your job." + +"My job? What do you mean by that?" asked Tony, bitter and sullen +in face and tone. + +"I am the new manager of the planing mill. Dad had you slated for +that position, but you hadn't manager-timber in you." + +Tony's answer was an oath, deep and heartfelt. + +"Yes," continued Jack, "manager-timber is rare and slow-growing +stuff, Tony." + +Again Tony swore but kept silence, and so remained till they had +reached his home. Together they walked into the living room. +There they found Annette, and with her McNish. Both rose upon +their entrance, McNish showing some slight confusion, and assuming +the attitude of a bulldog on guard, Annette vividly eager, +expectant, anxious. + +"Well," she cried, her hands going fluttering to her bosom. + +"I have got a job, Annette," said Tony, with a short laugh. "Here +is my boss." + +For a moment the others stood looking at Jack, surprised into +motionless silence. + +"I tell you, he is the new manager," repeated Tony, "and he is my +boss." + +"What does he mean, Jack?" cried the girl, coming forward to +Maitland with a quick, impulsive movement. + +"Just what he says, Annette. I am the new manager of the planing +mill and I have given Tony a job." + +Again there fell a silence. Into the eyes of the bulldog McNish +there shot a strange gleam of something that seemed almost like +pleasure. In those brief moments of silence life was readjusting +itself with them all. Maitland had passed from the rank and file +of the workers into the class of those who direct and control their +work. Bred as they were and trained as they were in the democratic +atmosphere of Canada, they were immediately conscious of the +shifting of values. + +Annette was the first to break silence. "I wish I could thank +you," she said, "but I cannot. I cannot." The girl's face had +changed. The eager light had faded from her dark eyes, her hands +dropped quietly to her side. "But I am sure you know," she added +after a pause, "how very, very grateful I am, how grateful we all +are, Mr. Maitland." + +"Annette," said Jack severely, "drop that 'Mr.' stuff. I was your +friend yesterday. Am I any less your friend to-day? True enough, +I am Tony's boss, but Tony is my friend--that is, if he wants to +have it so. You must believe this, Annette." + +He offered her his hand. With a sudden impulse she took it in both +of hers and held it hard against her breast, her eyes meanwhile +burning into his with a look of adoration, open and unashamed. She +apparently forgot the others in the room. + +"Jack," she cried, her voice thrilling with passion, "I don't care +what you are. I don't care what you think. I will never, never +forget what you have done for me." + +Maitland flung a swift glance at McNish and was startled at the +look of rage, of agonised rage, that convulsed his face. + +"My dear Annette," he said, with a light laugh, "don't make too +much of it. I was glad to help Tony and you. Why shouldn't I help +old friends?" + +As he was speaking they heard the sound of a door closing and +looking about, Jack found that McNish had gone, to be followed by +Tony a moment or two later. + +"Oh, never mind him," cried Annette, answering Jack's look of +surprise. "He has to go to work. And it doesn't matter in the +least." + +Jack was vaguely disturbed by McNish's sudden disappearance. + +"But, Annette," he said, "I don't want McNish to think that I--that +you--" + +"What?" She leaned toward him, her face all glowing with warm and +eager light, her eyes aflame, her bosom heaving. "What, Jack?" she +whispered. "What does it matter what he thinks?" + +He put out his hands. With a quick, light step she was close to +him, her face lifted up in passionate surrender. Swiftly Jack's +arms went around her and he drew her toward him. + +"Annette, dear," he said, and his voice was quiet and kind, too +kind. "You are a dear girl and a good girl, and I am glad to have +helped you and shall always be glad to help you." + +The door opened and Tony slipped into the room. With passionate +violence, Annette threw away the encircling arms. + +"Ah!" she cried, a sob catching her voice. "You--you shame me. +No--I shame myself." Rigid, with head flung back, she stood before +him, her eyes ablaze with passionate anger, her hands clenched +tight. She had flung herself at him and had been rejected. + +"What the devil is this?" cried Tony, striding toward them. "What +is he doing to you, Annette?" + +"He?" cried Annette, her breath coming in sobs. "To me? Nothing! +Keep out of it, Tony." She pushed him fiercely aside. "He has +done nothing! No! No! Nothing but what is good and kind. Ah! +kind. Yes, kind." Her voice rose shrill in scorn of herself and +of him. "Oh, yes, he is kind." She laughed wildly, then broke +into passionate tears. She turned from them and fled to her room, +leaving the two men looking at each other. + +"Poor child," said Jack, the first to recover speech. "She is +quite all in. She has had two hard weeks of it." + +"Two hard weeks," repeated Tony, his eyes glaring. "What is the +matter with my sister? What have you done to her?" His voice was +like the growl of a savage dog. + +"Don't be a confounded fool, Tony," replied Jack. "You ought to +know what is the matter with your sister. You have had something +to do with it. And now your job is to see if you can make it up to +her. To-morrow morning, at seven o'clock, remember," he said +curtly, and, turning on his heel, he passed out. + +It seemed to Jack as he drove home that life had suddenly become a +tangle of perplexities and complications. First there was Annette. +He was genuinely distressed as he thought of the scene through +which they had just passed. That he himself had anything to do +with her state of mind did not occur to him. + +"Poor little girl," he said to himself, "she really needs a change +of some sort, a complete rest. We must find some way of helping +her. She will be all right in a day or two." With which he +dismissed the subject. + +Then there was McNish. McNish was a sore puzzle to him. He had +come to regard the Scotchman with a feeling of sincere friendliness. +He remembered gratefully his ready and efficient help against the +attacks of the radical element among his fellow workmen. On several +occasions he, with the Reverend Murdo Matheson, had foregathered in +the McNish home to discuss economic problems over a quiet pipe. He +was always conscious of a reserve deepening at times to a sullenness +in McNish's manner, the cause of which he could not certainly +discover. That McNish was possessed of a mentality of more than +ordinary power there was no manner of doubt. Jack had often +listened with amazement to his argumentation with the Reverend +Murdo, against whom he proved over and over again his ability to +hold his own, the minister's superiority as a trained logician being +more than counterbalanced by his antagonist's practical experience. + +As he thought of these evenings, he was ready to believe that his +suspicion of the Scotchman's ill-will toward himself was due +largely to imagination, and yet he could not rid himself of the +unpleasant memory of McNish's convulsed face that afternoon. + +"What the deuce is the matter with the beggar, anyway?" he said to +himself. + +Suddenly a new suggestion came to him. + +"It can't be," he added, "surely the idiot is not jealous." Then +he remembered Annette's attitude at the moment, her hands pressing +his hard to her breast, her face lifted up in something more than +appeal. "By Jove! I believe that may be it," he mused. "And +Annette? Had she observed it? What was in her heart? Was there a +reason for the Scotchman's jealousy on that side?" + +This thought disturbed him greatly. He was not possessed of a +larger measure of self-conceit than falls to the lot of the average +young man, but the thought that possibly Annette had come to regard +him other than as a friend released a new tide of emotion within +him. Rapidly he passed in review many incidents in their +association during the months since he returned from the war, and +gradually the conviction forced itself upon him that possibly +McNish was not without some cause for jealousy. It was rotten luck +and was bound to interfere with their present happy relations. Yet +none the less was he conscious that it was not altogether an +unpleasant thought to him that in some subtle way a new bond had +been established between this charming young girl and himself. + +But he must straighten things out with McNish at the very first +opportunity. He was a decent chap and would make Annette a first- +rate husband. Indeed, it pleased Jack not a little to feel that he +would be able to further the fortunes of both. McNish had good +foreman timber in him and would make a capable assistant. As to +this silly prejudice of his, Jack resolved that he would take steps +immediately to have that removed. That he could accomplish this he +had little doubt. + +But the most acutely pressing of the problems that engaged his mind +were those that arose out of his new position as manager. The mere +organizing and directing of men in their work gave him little +anxiety. He was sure of himself as far as that was concerned. He +was sure of his ability to introduce among the men a system of team +play that would result in increased production and would induce +altogether better results. He thought he knew where the weak spots +were. He counted greatly upon the support of the men who had been +associated with him in the Maitland Mills Athletic Association. +With their backing, he was certain that he could eliminate most of +that very considerable wastage in time that even a cursory +observation had revealed to him in the shops, due to such causes as +dilatory workers, idle machines, lack of co-ordination, improper +routing of work, and the like. He had the suspicion that a little +investigation would reveal other causes of wastage as well. + +There was one feature in the situation that gave him concern and +that was the radical element in the unions. Simmons and his gang +had from the very first assumed an attitude of hostility to +himself, had sought to undermine his influence and had fought his +plans for the promotion of clean sport among the Mill men. None +knew better than Simmons that an active interest in clean and +vigorous outdoor sports tended to produce contentment of mind, and +a contented body of men offered unfertile soil for radical and +socialistic doctrines. Hence, Simmons had from the first openly +and vociferously opposed with contemptuous and bitter indignation +all Jack's schemes and plans for the promotion of athletic sports. +But Jack had been able to carry the men with him and the recent +splendid victory over a famous team had done much to discredit +brother Simmons and his propaganda. + +Already Jack was planning a new schedule of games for the summer. +Baseball, football, cricket, would give occupation and interest to +all classes of Mill workers. And in his new position he felt he +might be able, to an even greater degree, to carry out the plans +which he had in mind. On the other hand, he knew full well that +men were apt to be suspicious of welfare schemes "promoted from +above." His own hockey men he felt sure he could carry with him. +If he could only win McNish to be his sergeant-major, success would +be assured. This must be his first care. + +He well knew that McNish had no love for Simmons, whom the +Scotchman despised first, because he was no craftsman, and chiefly +because he had no soundly-based system of economics but was +governed by the sheerest opportunism in all his activities. A +combination between McNish and Simmons might create a situation not +easy to deal with. Jack resolved that that combination should be +prevented. He would see McNish at once, after the meeting of his +local, which he remembered was set for that very night. + +This matter being settled, he determined to proceed immediately to +the office for an interview with Wickes. He must get to know as +speedily as possible something of the shop organization and of its +effect upon production. He found Mr. Wickes awaiting him with +tremulous and exultant delight, eager to put himself, his +experience, his knowledge and all that he possessed at the disposal +of the new manager. The whole afternoon was given to this work, +and before the day was done, Jack had in his mind a complete +picture of the planing mill, with every machine in place and an +estimate, more or less exact, of the capacity of every machine. In +the course of this investigation, he was surprised to discover that +there was no detailed record of the actual production of each +machine, nor, indeed, anything in the way of an accurate cost +system in any department of the whole business. + +"How do you keep track of your men and their work, Wickes?" he +inquired. + +"Oh!" said the old man, "the foremen know all about that, Mr. +Jack." + +"But how can they know? What check have they?" + +"Well, they are always about, Mr. Jack, and keep their eyes on +things generally." + +"I see," said Jack. "And do you find that works quite +satisfactorily?" + +"Well, sir, we have never gone into details, you know, Mr. Jack, +but if you wish--" + +"Oh, no, Wickes, I am just trying to get the hang of things, you +know." Jack was unwilling to even suggest a criticism of method at +so early a stage in his managerial career. "I want to know how you +run things, Wickes, and at any time I shall be glad of assistance +from you." + +The old bookkeeper hastened to give him almost tearful assurance of +his desire to assist to the utmost of his power. + +The meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union was largely +attended, a special whip having been sent out asking for a full +meeting on the ground that a matter of vital importance to +unionised labour was to be considered. + +The matter of importance turned out to be nothing less than a +proposition that the Woodworkers' Union should join with all other +unions in the town to make a united demand upon their respective +employers for an increase in wages and better conditions all +around, in connection with their various industries. The question +was brought up in the form of a resolution from their executive, +which strongly urged that this demand should be approved and that a +joint committee should be appointed to take steps for the +enforcement of the demand. The executive had matters thoroughly in +hand. Brother Simmons and the more radical element were kept to +the background, the speakers chosen to present the case being all +moderates. There was no suggestion of extreme measures. Their +demands were reasonable, and it was believed that the employers +were prepared to give fair consideration--indeed, members had had +assurance from an authoritative quarter on the other side that such +was the case. + +Notwithstanding the moderate tone adopted in presenting it, the +resolution met with strenuous opposition. The great majority of +those present were quiet, steady-going men who wanted chiefly to +be let alone at their work and who were hostile to the suggested +action, which might finally land them in "trouble." The old-time +workers in the Maitland Mills had no grievances against their +employer. They, of course, would gladly accept an increase in +wages, for the cost of living was steadily climbing, but they +disliked intensely the proposed method of making a general demand +for an increase in wages and for better conditions. + +The sporting element in the meeting were frankly and fiercely +antagonistic to anything that would disturb the present friendly +relation with their employers in the Maitland Mills. "The old man" +had always done the square thing. He had shown himself a "regular +fellow" in backing them up in all their games during the past year. +He had always given them a fair hearing and a square deal. They +would not stand for any hold-up game of this sort. It was a low- +down game, anyway. + +The promoters of the resolution began to be anxious for their +cause. They had not anticipated any such a strong opposition and +were rather nonplussed as to the next move. Brother Simmons was in +a fury and was on the point of breaking forth into a passionate +denunciation of scabs and traitors generally when, to the amazement +of all and the intense delight of the supporters of the +administration, McNish arose and gave unqualified support to the +resolution. + +His speech was a masterpiece of diplomacy, and revealed his long +practice in the art of oratory in that best of all training +schools, the labour union of the Old Land. He began by expressing +entire sympathy with the spirit of the opposition. The opposition, +however, had completely misunderstood the intent and purport of the +resolution. None of them desired trouble. There need not be, +indeed, he hoped there would not be trouble, but there were certain +very ugly facts that must be faced. He then, in terse, forceful +language, presented the facts in connection with the cost of +living, quoting statistics from the Department of Labour to show +the steady rise in the price of articles of food, fuel and clothing +since the beginning of the war, a truly appalling array. He had +secured price lists from dealers in these commodities, both +wholesale and retail, to show the enormous profits made during the +war. There were returned soldiers present. They had not hesitated +at the call of duty to give all they had for their country. They +had been promised great things when they had left their homes, +their families, their business and their jobs. How had they found +things upon their return? He illustrated his argument from the +cases of men present. It was a sore spot with many of them and he +pressed hard upon it. They were suffering to-day; worse, their +wives and children were suffering. Had anyone heard of their +employers suffering? Here again he offered illustrations of men +who had made a good thing out of the war. True, there were many +examples of the other kind of employer, but they must deal with +classes and not individuals in a case like this. This was part of +a much bigger thing than any mere local issue. He drew upon his +experience in the homeland with overwhelming effect. His voice +rose and rolled in his richest Doric as he passionately denounced +the tyranny of the masters in the coal and iron industries in the +homeland. He was not an extremist; he had never been one. Indeed, +all who knew him would bear him out when he said that he had been +an opponent of Brother Simmons and those who thought with him on +economic questions. This sudden change in attitude would doubtless +surprise his brothers. He had been forced to change by the stern +logic of facts. There was nothing in this resolution which any +reasonable worker might object to. There was nothing in the +resolution that every worker with any sympathy with his fellow +workers should not support. Moreover, he warned them that if they +presented a united front, there would be little fear of trouble. +If they were divided in their ranks, or if they were halfhearted in +their demands, they would invite opposition and, therefore, +trouble. He asked them all to stand together in supporting a +reasonable demand, which he felt sure reasonable men would consider +favorably. + +The effect of his speech was overwhelming. The administration +supporters were exuberant in their enthusiastic applause and in +their vociferous demands for a vote. The opposition were paralysed +by the desertion of one whom they had regarded and trusted as a +leader against the radical element and were left without answer to +the masterly array of facts and arguments which he had presented. + +At this point, the door opened and Maitland walked in. A few +moments of tense silence, and then something seemed to snap. The +opposition, led by the hockey men and their supporters, burst into +a demonstration of welcome. The violence of the demonstration was +not solely upon Maitland's account. The leaders of the opposition +were quick to realise that his entrance had created a diversion for +them which might save them from disastrous defeat. They made the +most of this opportunity, prolonging the demonstration and joining +in a "chair procession" which carried Maitland shoulder-high about +the room, in the teeth of the violent protest of Brother Simmons +and his following. + +Order being restored, business was again resumed, when Brother +Macnamara rose to his feet and, in a speech incoherent at times, +but always forceful, proposed that the usual order be suspended +and that here and now a motion be carried expressing their +gratification at the recent great hockey victory and referring in +highly laudatory terms to the splendid work of Brother Captain +Maitland, to whose splendid efforts victory was largely due. + +It was in vain that Brother Simmons and those of his way of +thinking sought to stem the tide of disorder. The motion was +carried with acclaim. + +No sooner had this matter been disposed of than Maitland rose to +his feet and said: + +"Mr. President, I wish to thank you all for this very kind +reference to my team and myself. I take very little credit for +the victory which we won. We had a good team, indeed, quite a +remarkable team. I have played in a good many athletic teams of +various kinds, but in two particulars the Maitland Mills Hockey +Team is the most remarkable of any I have known--first, in their +splendid loyalty in taking their training and sticking together; +that was beyond all praise; and, secondly, in the splendid grit +which they showed in playing a losing game. Now, Mr. President, I +am going to do something which gives me more regret than any of you +can understand. I have to offer my resignation as a member of this +union. I have accepted the position of manager of the planing mill +and I understand that this makes it necessary that I resign as a +member of this union. I don't really see why this should be +necessary. I don't believe myself that it should, and, brothers, I +expect to live long enough to belong to a union that will allow a +fellow like me to be a member with chaps like you. But meantime, +for the present I must resign. You have treated me like a brother +and a chum. I have learned a lot from you all, but one thing +especially, which I shall never forget: that there is no real +difference in men that is due to their position in life; that a +man's job doesn't change his heart." + +He paused for a few moments as if to gather command of his voice, +which had become suddenly husky. + +"I am sorry to leave you, boys, and I want to say to you from my +heart that though I cannot remain a member of this union, I can be +and I will be a brother to you all the same. And I promise you +that, as far as I can, I will work for the good of the union in the +future as I have done in the past." + +McNish alone was prepared for this dramatic announcement, although +they all knew that Maitland sooner or later would assume a position +which would link him up with the management of the business. But +the suddenness of the change and the dramatic setting of the +announcement created an impression so profound as to neutralise +completely the effect of McNish's masterly speech. + +Disappointed and enraged at the sudden turn of events, he was too +good a general to allow himself to be routed in disorder. He set +about to gather his disordered forces for a fresh attack, when once +more the hockey men took command of the field. This time it was +Snoopy Sykes, the most voiceless member of the union. + +After a few moments of dazed silence that followed Maitland's +announcement of his resignation, Snoopy rose and, encouraged by the +cheers of his astonished comrades, began the maiden speech of his +life. + +"Mr. President," he shouted. + +"Go to it, Snoopy, old boy." + +"I never made a speech in my life, never--" + +"Good, old scout, never begin younger! Cheerio, old son!" + +"And I want to say that he don't need to. I once heard of a feller +who didn't. He kept on and he didn't do no harm to nobody. And +the Captain here wouldn't neither. So what I say is he don't need +to," and Snoopy sat down with the whole brotherhood gazing at him +in silence and amazed perplexity, not one of them being able to +attach the faintest meaning to Snoopy's amazing oration. + +At length Fatty Findlay, another of the voiceless ones, but the +very special pal of Snoopy Sykes, broke forth in a puzzled voice: + +"Say it again, Snoopy." + +There was a roar of laughter, which only grew in volume as Snoopy +turned toward his brothers a wrathful and bewildered countenance. + +"No," said another voice. "Say something else, Snoopy. Shoot a +goal this time." + +Again Snoopy rose. "What I said was this," he began indignantly. +Again there was a roar of laughter. + +"Say, you fellers, shut up and give a feller a chance. The Captain +wants to resign. I say 'No.' He is a darned good scout. We want +him and we won't let him go. Let him keep his card." + +"By the powers," roared Macnamara, "it is a goal, Snoopy. It's a +humdinger. I second the motion." + +It was utterly in vain that Brother Simmons and his whole following +pointed out unitedly and successively the utter impossibility and +absurdity of the proposal which was unconstitutional and without +precedent. The hockey team had the company with them and with the +bit in their teeth swept all before them. + +At this point, McNish displayed the master-hand that comes from +long experience. He saw his opportunity and seized it. + +"Mr. President," he said, and at once he received the most complete +attention. "A confess this is a most extraordinary proposal, but +A'm goin' tae support it." The roar that answered told him that he +had regained control of the meeting. "Brother Simmons says it is +unconstitutional and without precedent. He is no correct in this. +A have known baith maisters and managers who retained their union +cards. A grant ye it is unusual, but may I point oot that the +circumstances are unusual?"--Wild yells of approval--"And Captain +Maitland is an unusual man"--louder yells of approval--"It may that +there is something in the constitution o' this union that stands in +the way--"Cries of "No! No!" and consignment of the constitution to +a nameless locality.--"A venture to suggest that a committee be +appointed, consisting of Brothers Sykes, Macnamara and the +chairman, wi' poors tae add, tae go into this maitter with Captain +Maitland and report." + +It was a master-stroke. A true union man regards with veneration +the constitution and hesitates to tamper with it except in a +perfectly constitutional manner. The opposition to the +administration's original resolution had gained what they sought, a +temporary stay. The committee was appointed and the danger to both +the resolution and the constitution for the present averted. + +Again Mr. McNish took command. "And noo, Mr. President," he said, +"the oor is late. We are all tired and we all wish to give mair +thocht to the main maitter before us. A move, therefore, that we +adjourn to the call o' the Executive." + +Once more Brother Simmons found himself in a protesting minority, +and the meeting broke up, the opposition jubilant over their +victory, the supporters of the administration determined to await a +more convenient time. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +LIGHT THAT IS DARKNESS + + +At the next monthly meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union, +the executive had little difficulty in finally shelving the report +of its committee appointed to deal with the resignation of Captain +Maitland, and as little difficulty in passing by unanimous vote +their resolution held up at the last meeting. The allied unions +had meantime been extended to include the building trades. Their +organization had been perfected and their discipline immensely +strengthened. Many causes contributed to this result. A month's +time had elapsed and the high emotional tides due to athletic +enthusiasm, especially the hockey victory, had had space to +subside. The dead season for all outdoor games was upon them and +the men, losing touch with each other and with their captain, who +was engrossed in studying his new duties, began to spend their +leisure hours in loafing about the streets or lounging in the pool +rooms. + +All over the country the groundswell of unrest was steadily and +rapidly rising. The returned soldiers who had failed to readjust +themselves to the changed conditions of life and to the changes +wrought in themselves by the war, embittered, disillusioned and +disappointed, fell an easy prey to unscrupulous leaders and were +being exploited in the interests of all sorts of fads and foolish +movements. Their government bonuses were long since spent and many +of them, through no fault of their own, found themselves facing a +situation full of difficulty, hardship, and often of humiliation. + +Under the influence of financial inflation and deceived by the +abundant flow of currency in every department of business, +industries by the score started up all over the land. Few could +foresee the approach of dark and stern days. It was in vain that +financial leaders began to sound a note of warning, calling for +retrenchment and thrift. And now the inevitable results were +beginning to appear. The great steel and coal industries began to +curtail their operations, while desperately striving to maintain war +prices for their products. Other industries followed their example. +All the time the cost of living continued to mount. Foodstuffs +reached unheard-of prices, which, under the manipulations of +unscrupulous dealers, continued to climb. + +Small wonder that working men with high wages and plenty of money +in their hands cherished exaggerated ideas of their wealth and +developed extravagant tastes in dress, amusements and in standard +of living. With the rest of the world, they failed to recognise +the fact that money was a mere counter in wealth and not wealth +itself. To a large extent, thrift was abandoned and while deposits +in the savings banks grew in volume, the depositors failed to +recognise the fact that the value of the dollar had decreased fifty +per cent. Already the reaction from all this had begun to set in. +Nervousness paralysed the great financial institutions. The fiat +went forth "No more money for industrial enterprises. No more +advances on wholesale stocks." The order was issued "Retrench. +Take your losses, unload your stocks." This men were slow to do, +and while all agreed upon the soundness of the policy, each waited +for the other to begin. + +Through the month of April anxiety, fear and discontent began to +haunt the minds of business men. In the labour world the High +Command was quick to sense the approach of a crisis and began to +make preparations for the coming storm. The whole industrial and +commercial world gradually crystallised into its two opposing +classes. A subsidised press began earnestly to demand lower cost +in productions retrenchment in expenditure, a cut in labour costs, +a general and united effort to meet the inevitable burden of +deflation. + +On the other hand, an inspired press began to raise an outcry +against the increasing cost of living, to point out the effect of +the house famine upon the income of the working man, and to sound a +warning as to the danger and folly of any sudden reduction in the +wage scale. + +Increased activity in the ranks of organised labour began to be +apparent. Everywhere the wild and radical element was gaining in +influence and in numbers, and the spirit of faction and internecine +strife became rampant. + +It was due to the dominating forcefulness of McNish, the leader of +the moderates, that the two factions in the allied unions had been +consolidated, and a single policy agreed upon. His whole past had +been a preparation for just a crisis as the present. His wide +reading, his shrewd practical judgment, his large experience in +labour movements in the Old Land, gave him a position of commanding +influence which enabled him to dominate the executives and direct +their activities. His sudden and unexplained acceptance of the +more radical program won for him an enthusiastic following of the +element which had hitherto recognised the leadership of Brother +Simmons. Day and night, with a zeal that never tired, he laboured +at the work of organising and disciplining the various factions and +parties in the ranks of labour into a single compact body of +fighting men under a single command. McNish was in the grip of one +of the mightiest of human passions. Since that day in the Perrotte +home, when he had seen the girl that he loved practically offer +herself, as he thought, to another man, he had resolutely kept +himself away from her. He had done with her forever and he had +torn out of his heart the genuine friendship which he had begun to +hold toward the man who had deprived him of her love. But deep in +his heart he nourished a passion for vengeance that became an +obsession, a madness with him. He merely waited the opportunity to +gratify his passion. + +He learned that the Maitland Mills were in deep water, financially. +His keen economic instinct and his deep study of economic movements +told him that a serious financial crisis, continent-wide, was +inevitable and imminent. It only needed a successful labour war to +give the final touch that would bring the whole industrial fabric +tumbling into ruin. The desire for immediate revenge upon the man +toward whom he had come to cherish an implacable hatred would not +suffer him to await the onset of a nation-wide industrial crisis. +He fancied that he saw the opportunity for striking an immediate +blow here in Blackwater. + +He steadily thwarted Maitland's attempts to get into touch with +him, whether at the works or in his own home, where Maitland had +become a frequent visitor. He was able only partially to allay his +mother's anxiety and her suspicion that all was not well with him. +That shrewd old lady knew her son well enough to suspect that some +untoward circumstance had befallen him, but she knew also that she +could do no more than bide her time. + +With the workers of the Maitland Mills circumstances favoured the +plans of McNish and the Executive of the allied unions. The new +manager was beginning to make his hand felt upon the wheel. Checks +upon wastage in labour time and in machine time were being +instituted; everywhere there was a tightening up of loose screws +and a knitting up of loose ends, with the inevitable consequent +irritation. This was especially true in the case of Tony Perrotte, +to whom discipline was ever an external force and never an inward +compulsion. Inexact in everything he did, irregular in his habits, +irresponsible in his undertakings, he met at every turn the +pressure of the firm, resolute hand of the new manager. Deep down +in his heart there was an abiding admiration and affection for Jack +Maitland, but he loathed discipline and kicked against it. + +The first of May is ever a day of uncertainty and unrest in the +world of labour. It is a time for readjustment, for the fixing of +wage scales, for the assertion of labour rights and the ventilating +of labour wrongs. It is a time favourable to upheaval, and is +therefore awaited by all employers of labour with considerable +anxiety. + +On the surface there was not a ripple to indicate that as far as +the Maitland Mills were concerned there was beneath a surging tide +of unrest. So undisturbed indeed was the surface that the +inexperienced young manager was inclined to make light of the +anxieties of his father, and was confident in his assurance that +the danger of a labour crisis had, for the present at least, been +averted. + +Out of the blue heaven fell the bolt. The mails on May Day morning +brought to the desk of every manager of every industry in +Blackwater, and to every building contractor, a formal document +setting forth in terms courteous but firm the demands of the +executives of the allied unions of Blackwater. + +"Well, it has come, boy," was Maitland's greeting to his son, who +came into the office for the usual morning consultation. + +"What?" said Jack. + +"War," replied his father, tossing him the letter and watching his +face as he read it. + +Jack handed him the letter without a word. + +"Well, what do you think of it?" said his father. + +"It might be worse." + +"Worse?" roared his father. "Worse? How can it be worse?" + +"Well, it is really a demand for an increase in wages. The others, +I believe, are mere frills. And between ourselves, sir, though I +haven't gone into it very carefully, I am not sure but that an +increase in wages is about due." + +Maitland glowered at his son in a hurt and hopeless rage. + +"An increase in wages due?" he said. "After the increase of six +months ago? The thing is preposterous. The ungrateful +scoundrels!" + +At this point the telephone upon his desk rang. Jack took up the +receiver. + +"Good morning, Mr. McGinnis. . . . Yes, he is here. Yes. . . . +At least, I suppose so. . . . Oh, I don't know. . . . It is +rather peremptory. . . . All right, sir, I shall tell him." + +"Let me talk to him," said his father, impatiently. + +"Never mind just now, Dad," said Jack, with his hand over the +receiver. Then through the telephone he said: "All right, sir; he +will await you here. Good morning." + +". . . The old boy is wild," said Jack with a slight laugh. "The +wires are quite hot." + +"This is no joke, Jack, I can tell you. McGinnis is coming over, +is he?" + +"Yes," replied Jack, "but we won't get much help from him." + +"Why not?" inquired his father. "He is a very shrewd and able +business man." + +"He may be all that, sir, but in a case like this, if you really +want my opinion, and I have no wish to be disrespectful, he is a +hot-headed ass. Just the kind of employer to rejoice the heart of +a clever labour leader who is out for trouble. Dad," and Jack's +voice became very earnest, "let's work this out by ourselves. We +can handle our own men better without the help of McGinnis or any +other." + +"That is just the trouble. Look at this precious document, 'The +Allied Unions.' What have I got to do with them? And signed by +Simmons and McDonough. Who is McDonough, pray?" + +"McDonough? Oh, I know McDonough. He is a little like McGinnis-- +big-hearted, hot-headed, good in a scrap, useless in a conference. +But I suggest, sir, that we ignore the slight unpleasant +technicalities in the manner and method of negotiation and try to +deal with our own people in a reasonable way." + +"I am ready always to meet my own people, but I refuse utterly to +deal with this committee!" It was not often that Mr. Maitland +became profane, but in his description of this particular group of +individuals his ordinary English suffered a complete collapse. + +"Dad, McGinnis will be here in a few minutes. I should like to +suggest one or two things, if you will allow me." + +"Go on," said his father quickly. + +"Dad, this is war, and I have learned a little about that game +'over there.' And I have learned something about it in my athletic +activities. The first essential is to decline to play the enemy's +game. Let's discover his plan of campaign. As I read this +document, the thing that hits my eye is this: do they really want +the things they ask for, or is the whole thing a blind? What I +mean is, do they really want war or peace? I say let's feel them +out. If they are after peace, the thing is easy. If they want +war, this may come to be a very serious thing. Meantime, Dad, +let's not commit ourselves to McGinnis. Let's play it alone." + +Mr. Maitland's lips had set in a thin, hard line. His face was +like a mask of grey steel. He sat thinking silently. + +"Here he comes," said Jack, looking out of the window. "Dad, you +asked me to come into this with you. Let's play the game together. +I found it wise to place the weight on the defence line. Will you +play defence in this?" + +The lines in his father's face began to relax. + +"All right, boy, we'll play it together, and meantime I shall play +defence." + +"By Jove, Dad," cried Jack, in a tone of exultant confidence, +"we'll beat 'em. And now here comes that old Irish fire-eater. +I'll go. No alliance, Dad, remember." His father nodded as Jack +left the room, to return almost immediately with Mr. McGinnis, +evidently quite incoherent with rage. + +In the outer office Jack paused beside the desk of the old +bookkeeper. From behind the closed door came the sound of high +explosives. + +"Rough stuff in there, eh, Wickes," said Jack, with a humorous +smile. For some moments he stood listening. "War is a terrible +thing," he added with a grin. + +"What seems to be the matter, Mr. Jack?" + +Jack laid before him the document sent out by the Allied Unions. + +"Oh, this is terrible, Mr. Jack! And just at this time. I am very +much afraid it will ruin us." + +"Ruin us? Rot. Don't ever say that word again. We will possibly +have a jolly good row. Someone will be hurt and perhaps all of us, +more or less, but I don't mean to be beaten, if I know myself," he +added, with the smile on his face that his hockey team loved to see +before a match. "Now, Wickes," continued Jack, "get that idea of +failure out of your mind. We are going to win. And meantime, let +us prepare for our campaign. Here's a bit of work I want you to do +for me. Get four things for me: the wages for the last three +years--you have the sheets?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"--The cost of living from the Labour Gazette for the last three +years--you have them here--and the rates of increase in wages. +Plot a diagram showing all these things. You know what I mean?" + +"Yes, sir, I understand." + +"And find out the wages paid at our competing points." + +"All right, Mr. Jack. I know what you want. I can give you the +necessary information in regard to the first three points almost at +once. It will take some days, however, to get the wages of our +competing points." + +"All right, old boy. Carry on!" said Jack, and with the same smile +on his face he passed out of the office into the shops. + +It amused him slightly to observe the change in the attitude and +bearing of his men. They would not look at him fairly in the face. +Even Snoopy Sykes and Macnamara avoided his glance. But he had for +everyone his usual cheery word. Why should he not? These chaps +had no hatred for him, nor he for them. He had come to understand +union methods of discipline and recognised fully the demands for +loyalty and obedience imposed upon its members by the organisation. +These men of his were bound to the union by solemn obligations. He +bore them no ill-will on that score. Rather he respected them the +more for it. If a fight was inevitable, he would do his best to +beat them but he would allow no spirit of hatred to change his mind +toward them nor cloud his judgment. + +The day was full of excursions and alarms. A hurry call was sent +out by McGinnis to all employers who had received copies of the +document from the Allied Unions. In the afternoon a meeting was +held in the Board of Trade Building, but it was given over chiefly +to vituperation and threatening directed toward their variously +described employees. With one heart and voice all affirmed with +solemn, and in many cases with profane oaths that they would not +yield a jot to the insolent demands of this newly organised body. + +"I have already sent my answer," shouted Mr. McGinnis. + +"What did you say, Mac?" + +"Told 'em to go to hell, and told 'em that if any of these highly +coloured committee men came on my premises, I would kick 'em into +the middle of next week." + +Jack, who was present at the meeting, sat listening with silent and +amused pity. They seemed to him so like a group of angry children +whose game had suddenly been interfered with and whose rage +rendered them incapable of coherent thought. + +Grant Maitland, who, throughout the meeting had sat silent, finally +rose and said: "Gentlemen, the mere expression of feeling may +afford a sort of satisfaction but the question is, What is to be +done? That the situation is grave for all of us we know too well. +Not many of us are in a position to be indifferent to a strike. +Let us get down to business. What shall we do?" + +"Fight them to a finish! Smash the unions!" were the suggestions +in various forms and with various descriptive adjectives. + +"It may come to a fight, gentlemen, but however gratifying a fight +may be to our feelings, a fight may be disastrous to our business. +A strike may last for weeks, perhaps months. Are we in a position +to stand that? And as for smashing the unions, let us once and for +all put such a thought out of our minds. These unions have all +international affiliations. It is absurd to imagine that we here +in Blackwater could smash a single union." + +Fiercely McGinnis made reply. "I want to tell you right here and +now that I am prepared to close down and go out of business but I +will have no outside committee tell me how to run my job." + +But no one took this threat seriously, and no one but knew that a +shut-down for any of them might mean disaster. They all recalled +those unfilled orders which they were straining every nerve to +complete before the market should break, or cancellation should +come. It added not a little to their rage that they knew +themselves to be held in the grip of circumstances over which they +had little control. + +After much angry deliberation it was finally agreed that they +should appoint a committee to consider the whole situation and to +prepare a plan of action. Meantime the committee were instructed +to temporise with the enemy. + +The evening papers announced the imminence of a strike the extent +and magnitude of which had never been experienced in the history of +Blackwater. Everywhere the citizens of the industrial town were +discussing the disturbing news anxiously, angrily, indifferently, +according as they were variously affected. But there was a general +agreement among all classes of citizens that a strike in the +present industrial and financial situation which was already +serious enough, would be nothing short of a calamity, because no +matter what the issue would be, no matter which of the parties won +in the conflict, a fight meant serious loss not only to the two +parties immediately concerned, but to the whole community as well. +With the rank and file of the working people there was little heart +for a fight. More especially, men upon whom lay the responsibility +for the support of homes shrank from the pain and the suffering, as +well as from the loss which experience taught them a strike must +entail. It is safe to say that in every working man's home in +Blackwater that night there was to be found a woman who, as she put +her children to bed, prayed that trouble might be averted, for she +knew that in every war it is upon the women and children that in +the last analysis the sorest burden must fall. To them even +victory would mean for many months a loss of luxuries for the +family, it might be of comforts; and defeat, which would come not +until after long conflict, would mean not only straitened means but +actual poverty, with all the attendant humiliation and bitterness +which would kill for them the joy of life and sensibly add to its +already heavy burden. + +That night Jack Maitland felt that a chat with the Reverend Murdo +Matheson might help to clear his own mind as to the demands of the +Allied Unions. He found the minister in his study and in great +distress of soul. + +"I am glad to see you, Maitland," he said, giving him a hearty +greeting. "My hope is largely placed in you and you must not fail +me in this crisis. What exactly are the demands of the unions?" + +Maitland spread before him the letter which his father had received +that morning. The Reverend Murdo read it carefully over, then, +with a sigh of relief, he said: "Well, it might be worse. There +should not be much difficulty in coming to an agreement between +people anxious for peace." + +After an hour spent in canvassing the subject from various points +of view, the Reverend Murdo exclaimed: "Let us go and see McNish." + +"The very thing," said Maitland. "I have been trying to get in +touch with him for the last month or so, but he avoids me." + +"Ay," replied the Reverend Murdo, "he has a reason, no doubt." + +To Maitland's joy they found McNish at home. They were received +with none-too-cordial a welcome by the son, with kindly, even eager +greeting by the mother. + +"Come awa in, Minister; come awa, Mr. Maitland. You have come to +talk about the 'trouble,' a doot. Malcolm does-na want to talk +about it to me, a bad sign. He declines to converse even, wi' me, +Mr. Matheson. Perhaps ye may succeed better wi' him." + +"Mr. Matheson can see for himself," said her son, using his most +correct English, "the impropriety of my talking with an employer in +this way." + +"Nonsense, McNish," said the minister briskly. "You know me quite +well and we both know Maitland. It is just sheer nonsense to say +that you cannot talk with us. Everyone in town is talking. Every +man in your union is talking, trying to justify their present +position, which, I am bound to say, takes some justifying." + +"Why?" asked McNish hotly. + +"Because the demands are some of them quite unsound. Some other +than you had a hand in drawing up your Petition of Right, McNish, +and some of the demands are impossible." + +"How do you--" began McNish indignantly, but the minister held up +his hand and continued: + +"And some of them are both sound and reasonable." + +"What's wrang with the demands?" said McNish. + +"That's what I am about to show you," said the minister with grave +confidence. + +"Aye, minister," said the mother with a chuckle of delight. +"That's you! That's you! Haud at him! Haud at him! That's you!" + +They took seats about the blazing fire for the evening was still +shrewd enough to make the fire welcome. + +"Noo, Mr. Matheson," said the old lady, leaning toward him with +keen relish in her face, "read me the union demands. Malcolm wadna +read nor talk nor anything but glower." + +The Reverend Murdo read the six clauses. + +"Um! They're no bad negotiating pints." + +"Negotiatin' pints!" exclaimed her son indignantly. "Noo, mither, +ye maun play the game. A'm no gaun tae argue with ye to-night. +Nor wi' any of ye," he added. + +"Nonsense, Malcolm. You can't object to talk over these points +with us. You must talk them over before you're done with them. +And you'll talk them over before the whole town, too." + +"What do you mean, 'before the whole town'?" said Malcolm. + +"This is a community question. This community is interested and +greatly interested. It will demand a full exposition of the +attitude of the unions." + +"The community!" snorted McNish in contempt. + +"Aye, the community," replied the minister, "and you are not to +snort at it. That's the trouble with you labour folk. You think +you are the whole thing. You forget the third and most important +party in any industrial strife, the community. The community is +interested first, in justice being done to its citizens--to all its +citizens, mind you; second, in the preservation of the services +necessary to its comfort and well-being; third, in the continuance +of the means of livelihood to wage earners." + +"Ye missed one," said McNish grimly. "The conserving of the +profits of labour for the benefit of the capitalist." + +"I might have put that in, too," said the minister, "but it is +included in my first. But I should have added another which, to my +mind, is of the very first importance, the preservation of the +spirit of brotherly feeling and Christian decency as between man +and man in this community." + +"Aye, ye might," replied Malcolm in bitter irony, "and ye might +begin with the ministers and the churches." + +"Whisht, laddie," said his mother sharply, "Mind yer manners." + +"He doesn't mean me specially, Mrs. McNish, but I will not say but +what he is right." + +"No," replied McNish, "I don't mean you exactly, Mr. Matheson." + +"Don't take it back, McNish," said the minister. "I need it. We +all need it in the churches, and we will take it, too. But come +now, let us look at these clauses. You are surely not standing for +them all, or for them all alike?" + +"Why not, then?" said McNish, angrily. + +"I'll tell you," replied the minister, "and won't take long, +either." He proceeded to read over carefully the various clauses +in the demands of the allied unions, emphasizing and explaining the +meaning of each clause. "First, as to wages. This is purely a +matter for adjustment to the cost of living and general industrial +conditions. It is a matter of arithmetic and common sense. There +is no principle involved." + +"I don't agree with you," said McNish. "There is more than the +cost of living to be considered. There is the question of the +standard of living. Why should it be considered right that the +standard of living for the working man should be lower than that +for the professional man or the capitalist?" + +"There you are again, McNish," said the minister. "You are not up +to your usual to-night. You know quite well that every working man +in my parish lives better than I do, and spends more money on his +living. The standard of living has no special significance with +the working man to-day as distinguished from the professional man. +We are not speaking of the wasteful and idle rich. So I repeat +that here it is a matter of adjustment and that there is no +principle involved. Now, as regard to hours. You ask an eight- +hour day and a Saturday half-holiday. That, too, is a matter of +adjustment." + +"What about production, Mr. Matheson?" said Maitland. "And +overhead? Production costs are abnormally high to-day and so are +carrying charges. I am not saying that a ten-hour day is not too +long. Personally, I believe that a man cannot keep at his best for +ten hours in certain industries--not in all." + +"Long hours do not mean big production, Maitland. Not long hours +but intensive and co-ordinated work bring up production and lower +production costs." + +"What about idle machines and overhead?" inquired Maitland. + +"A very important consideration," said the minister. "The only +sound rule governing factory industry especially is this: the +longest possible machine time, the shortest possible man time. But +here again it is a question of organisation, adjustment and co- +ordination of work and workers. We all want education here." + +"If I remember right," said McNish, and he could not keep the +bitterness out of his voice, "I have heard you say something in the +pulpit at times in regard to the value of men's immortal souls. +What care can men take of their bodies and minds, let alone their +souls, if you work them ten hours a day?" + +"There is a previous question, McNish," said the minister. "Why +give more leisure time to men who spend their leisure hours now in +pool rooms and that sort of nonsense?" + +"And whose fault is that," replied McNish sharply. "Who is +responsible that they have not learned to use their leisure more +wisely? And further, what about your young bloods and their +leisure hours?" + +"Ay, A doot he has ye there, minister," said Mrs. McNish with a +quiet chuckle. + +"He has," said the minister. "The point is well taken and I +acknowledge it freely. My position is that the men need more +leisure, but, more than that, they need instruction as to how to +use their leisure time wisely. But let us get on to the third +point. 'A Joint Committee of References demanded to which all +complaints shall be referred.' Now, that's fine. That's the +Whitley plan. It is quite sound and has proved thoroughly useful +in practice." + +"I quite agree," said Maitland frankly. "But certain conditions +must be observed." + +"Of course, of course," replied the minister. "Conditions must be +observed everywhere. Now, the fourth point: 'The foreman must be +a member of the union.' Thoroughly unsound. They can't ride two +horses at once. + +"I am not so sure of that," said Maitland. "For my part, I should +like to have retained my membership in the union. The more that +both parties meet for conference, the better. And the more +connecting links between them, the better. I should like to see a +union where employers and employees should have equal rights of +membership." + +McNish grunted contemptuously. + +"It would be an interesting experiment," said the minister. "An +interesting experiment, McNish, and you are not to grunt like that. +The human element, of course, is the crux here. If we had the +right sort of foreman he might be trusted to be a member of the +union, but a man cannot direct and be directed at the same time. +But that union of yours, Maitland, with both parties represented in +it, is a big idea. It is worth considering. What do you think +about it, McNish?" + +"What do I think of it? It is sheer idealistic nonsense." + +"It is a noble idea, laddie, and no to be sneered at, but A doot it +needs a better world for it than we hae at the present." + +"I am afraid that is true," said the minister. "But meantime a +foreman is a man who gives orders and directs work, and, generally +speaking, he must remain with a directorate in any business. There +may be exceptions. You must acknowledge that, McNish." + +"I'll acknowledge nothing of the sort," replied McNish, and entered +into a long argument which convinced no one. + +"Now we come to the next, number five: 'a voice in the management,' +it means. Come now, McNish, this is rather much. Do you want Mr. +Maitland's job here, or is there anyone in your shop who would be +anything but an embarrassment trying running the Maitland Mills, +and you know quite well that the men want nothing of the sort. It +may be as Mrs. McNish said, 'a good negotiating point,' but it has +no place in practical politics here in Blackwater. How would you +like, for instance, to take orders from Simmons?" + +The old lady chuckled delightedly. "He has you there, laddie, he +has you there!" + +But this McNish would not acknowledge, and proceeded to argue at +great length on purely theoretical grounds for joint control of +industries, till his mother quite lost patience with him. + +"Hoots, laddie, haud yer hoofs on mither earth. Would ye want yon +radical bodies to take chairge o' ony business in which ye had a +baubee? Ye're talkin' havers." + +"Now, let us look at the last," said Mr. Matheson. "It is +practically a demand for the closed shop. Now, McNish, I ask you, +man to man, what is the use of putting that in there? It is not +even a negotiating point." + +At that McNish fired up. "It is no negotiating point," he +declared. "I stand for that. It is vital to the very existence of +unionised labour. Everyone knows that. Unionism cannot maintain +itself in existence without the closed shop. It is the ideal +toward which all unionised labour works." + +"Now, McNish, tell me honestly," said the minister, "do you expect +or hope for an absolutely closed shop in the factories here in +Blackwater, or in the Building Industries? Have you the faintest +shadow of a hope?" + +"We may not get it," said McNish, "but that is no reason why we +should not fight for it. Men have died fighting for the impossible +because they knew it was right, and, by dying for it, they have +brought it to pass." + +"Far be it from me, McNish, to deny that. But I am asking you now, +again as man to man, do you know of any industry, even in the Old +Land, where the closed shop absolutely prevails, and do you think +that conditions in Blackwater give you the faintest hope of a +closed shop here?" + +"Yes," shouted McNish, springing to his feet, "there is hope. +There is hope even in Blackwater." + +"Tut, tut, laddie," said his mother. "Dinna deeve us. What has +come ower ye that ye canna talk like a reasonable man? Noo, Mr. +Matheson, ye've had enough of the labour matters. A'll mak ye a +cup of tea." + +"Thank you, Mrs. McNish," said the minister gravely, "but I cannot +linger. I have still work to do to-night." He rose from his chair +and found his coat. His manner was gravely sad and gave evidence +of his disappointment with the evening's conversation. + +"Dinna fash yerself, minister," said the old lady, helping him on +with his coat. "The 'trouble' will blow ower, a doot. It'll a' +come oot richt." + +"Mrs. McNish, what I have seen and heard in this house to-night," +said the minister solemnly, "gives me little hope that it will all +come right, but rather gives me grave concern." Then, looking +straight into the eyes of her son, he added: "I came here +expecting to find help and guidance in discovering a reasonable way +out of a very grave and serious difficulty. I confess I have been +disappointed." + +"Mr. Matheson," said McNish, "I am always glad to discuss any +matter with you in a reasonable and kindly way." + +"I am afraid my presence has not helped very much, Mrs. McNish," +said Maitland. "I am sorry I came tonight. I did come earnestly +desiring and hoping that we might find a way out. It seems I have +made a mistake." + +"You came at my request, Maitland," said the minister. "If a +mistake has been made, it is mine. Good-night, Mrs. McNish. Good- +night, Malcolm. I don't pretend to know or understand what is in +your heart, but I am going to say to you as your minister that +where there is evil passion there can be no clear thinking. And +further, let me say that upon you will devolve a heavy responsibility +for the guidance you give these men. Good-night again. Remember +that One whom we both acknowledge as the source of all true light +said: 'If the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that +darkness.'" He shook hands first with the mother, then with the +son, who turned away from him with a curt "Good-night" and nodded to +Maitland. + +For a moment or two neither of the men spoke. They were both +grievously disappointed in the interview. + +"I never saw him like that," said the Reverend Murdo at length. +"What can be the matter with him? With him passion is darkening +counsel." + +"Well," said Maitland, "I have found out one thing that I wanted." + +"And what is that?" + +"These men clearly do not want what they are asking for. They want +chiefly war--at least, McNish does." + +"I am deeply disappointed in McNish," replied the minister, "and I +confess I am anxious. McNish, above all others, is the brains of +this movement, and in that mood there is little hope of reason from +him. I fear it will be a sore fight, with a doubtful issue." + +"Oh, I don't despair," said Maitland cheerily. "I have an idea he +has a quarrel with me. He wants to get me. But we can beat him." + +The Reverend Murdo waited for a further explanation, but was too +much of a gentleman to press the point and kept silent till they +reached his door. + +"You will not desert us, Mr. Matheson," said Maitland earnestly. + +"Desert you? It is my job. These people are my people. We cannot +desert them." + +"Right you are," said Maitland. "Cheerio. We'll carry on. He +shook hands warmly with the minister and went off, whistling +cheerily. + +"That is a man to follow," said the minister to himself. "He goes +whistling into a fight." + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE STRIKE + + +The negotiations between the men and their employers, in which the +chief exponents of the principles of justice and fair play were Mr. +McGinnis on the one hand and Brother Simmons on the other, broke +down at the second meeting, which ended in a vigorous personal +encounter between these gentlemen, without, however, serious injury +to either. + +The following day a general strike was declared. All work ceased +in the factories affected and building operations which had begun +in a moderate way were arrested. Grant Maitland was heartily +disgusted with the course of events and more especially with the +humiliating and disgraceful manner in which the negotiations had +been conducted. + +"You were quite right, Jack," he said to his son the morning after +which the strike had been declared. "That man McGinnis is quite +impossible." + +"It really made little difference, Dad. The negotiations were +hopeless from the beginning. There was no chance of peace." + +"Why not?" + +"Because McNish wants war." He proceeded to give an account of the +evening spent at the McNish home. "When McNish wants peace, we can +easily end the strike," concluded Jack. + +"There is something in what you say, doubtless," replied his father, +"but meantime there is a lot to be done." + +"What do you mean exactly, Father?" + +"We have a lot of stock made up on hand. The market is dead at +present prices. There is no hope of sales. The market will fall +lower still. I propose that we take our loss and unload at the +best rate we can get." + +"That is your job, Dad. I know little about that, but I believe +you are right. I have been doing a lot of reading in trade +journals and that sort of thing, and I believe that a big slump is +surely coming. But there is a lot to do in my department at the +Mills, also. I am not satisfied with the inside arrangement of our +planing mill. There is a lot of time wasted and there is an almost +complete lack of co-ordination. Here is a plan I want to show you. +The idea is to improve the routing of our work." + +Maitland glanced at the plan perfunctorily, more to please his son +than anything else. But, after a second glance, he became deeply +interested and began to ask questions. After half an hour's study +he said: + +"Jack, this is really a vast improvement. Strange, I never thought +of a great many of these things." + +"I have been reading up a bit, and when I was on my trip two weeks +ago I looked in upon two or three of the plants of our competitors. +I believe this will be more up-to-date and will save time and +labour." + +"I am sure it will, boy. And we will put this in hand at once. +But what about men?" + +"Oh, we can pick up labourers, and that is all we want at the +present time." + +"All right, go at it. I will give you a hand myself." + +"Then there is something else, Dad. We ought to have a good +athletic field for our men." + +His father gasped at him. + +"An athletic field for those ungrateful rascals?" + +"Father, they are not rascals," said his son. "They are just the +same to-day as they ever were. A decent lot of chaps who don't +think the same as we do on a number of points. But they are coming +back again some time and we may as well be ready for them. Look at +this." + +And before Grant Maitland could recover his speech he found himself +looking at a beautifully-drawn plan of athletic grounds set out +with walks, shade trees and shrubbery, and with a plain but +commodious club-house appearing in the background. + +"And where do you get this land, and what does it cost you?" + +"The land," replied Jack, "is your land about the old mill. It +will cost us nothing, I hope. The old mill site contains two and +one-half acres. It can be put in shape with little work. The mill +itself is an eyesore; ought to have been removed long ago. Dad, +you ought to have seen the plant at Violetta, that is in Ohio, you +know. It is a joy to behold. But never mind about that. The +lumber in the old mill can be used up in the club-house. The +timbers are wonderful; nothing like them to-day anywhere. The +outside finishing will be done with slabs from our own yard. They +will make a very pretty job." + +"And where do you get the men for this work?" inquired his father. + +"Why, our men. It is for themselves and they are our men." + +"Voluntary work, I suppose?" inquired Maitland. + +"Voluntary work?" said Jack. "We couldn't have men work for us for +nothing." + +"And you mean to pay them for the construction of their own athletic +grounds and club-house?" + +"But why not?" inquired Jack in amazement. + +His father threw back his head and began to laugh. + +"This is really the most extraordinary thing I have ever heard of +in all my life," he said, after he had done with his laugh. "Your +men strike; you prepare for them a beautiful club-house and +athletic grounds as a reward for their loyalty. You pay them wages +so that they may be able to sustain the strike indefinitely." +Again he threw back his head and continued laughing as Jack had +never in his life heard him laugh. + +"Why not, Dad?" said Jack, gazing at his father in half-shamed +perplexity. "The idea of athletic grounds and club-house is +according to the best modern thought. These are our own men. You +are not like McGinnis. You are not enraged at them. You don't +hate them. They are going to work for us again in some days or +weeks. They are idle and therefore available for work. You can +get better work from them than from other men. And you wouldn't +take their work from them for nothing." + +Again his father began to laugh. "Your argument, Jack," he said +when he was able to control his speech, "is absolutely unanswerable. +There is no answer possible on any count; but did ever man hear +of such a scheme? Did you?" + +"I confess not. But, Dad, you are a good sport. We are out to win +this fight, but we don't want to injure anybody. We are going to +beat them, but we don't want to abuse them unnecessarily. Besides, +I think it is good business. And then, you see, I really like +these chaps." + +"Simmons, for instance?" said his father with an ironical smile. + +"Well, Simmons, just as much as you can like an ass." + +"And McNish?" inquired Maitland. + +"McNish," echoed Jack, a cloud falling upon his face. "I confess I +don't understand McNish. At least," he added, "I am sorry for +McNish. But what do you say to my scheme, Dad?" + +"Well, boy," said his father, beginning to laugh again, "give me a +night to think it over." + +Then Jack departed, not quite sure of himself or of the plan which +appeared to give his father such intense amusement. "At any rate," +he said to himself as he walked out of the office, "if it is a joke +it is a good one. And it has given the governor a better laugh +than he has had for five years." + +The Mayor of Blackwater was peculiarly sensitive to public opinion +and acutely susceptible of public approval. In addition, he was +possessed of a somewhat exalted idea of his powers as the +administrator in public affairs, and more particularly as a +mediator in times of strife. He had been singularly happy in his +mediation between the conflicting elements in his Council, and more +than once he had been successful in the composing of disputes in +arbitration cases submitted to his judgment. Moreover, he had an +eye to a second term in the mayor's chair, which gubernatorial and +majestical office gave full scope to the ruling ambition of his +life, which was, in his own words, "to guard the interests and +promote the well-being of my people." + +The industrial strike appeared to furnish him with an opportunity +to gratify this ambition. He resolved to put an end to this +unnecessary and wasteful struggle, and to that end he summoned to a +public meeting his fellow citizens of all classes, at which he +invited each party in the industrial strife to make a statement of +their case, in the hope that a fair and reasonable settlement might +be effected. + +The employers were more than dubious of the issue, having but a +small idea of the mayor's power of control and less of his common- +sense. Brother Simmons, however, foreseeing a magnificent field +for the display of his forensic ability, a thing greatly desired by +labour leaders of his kidney, joyfully welcomed the proposal. +McNish gave hesitating assent, but, relying upon his experience in +the management of public assemblies and confident of his ability to +shape events to his own advantage, he finally agreed to accept the +invitation. + +The public meeting packed the City Hall, with representatives of +both parties in the controversy in about equal numbers and with a +great body of citizens more or less keenly interested in the issue +of the meeting and expectant of a certain amount of "fun." The +Mayor's opening speech was thoroughly characteristic. He was +impressed with the responsibility that was his for the well-being +of his people. Like all right-thinking citizens of this fair town +of Blackwater, he deeply regretted this industrial strife. It +interfered with business. It meant loss of money to the strikers. +It was an occasion of much inconvenience to the citizens and it +engendered bitterness of feeling that might take months, even +years, to remove. He stood there as the friend of the working man. +He was a working man himself and was proud of it. He believed that +on the whole they were good fellows. He was a friend also of the +employers of labour. What could we do without them? How could our +great industries prosper without their money and their brains? The +one thing necessary for success was co-operation. That was the +great word in modern democracy. In glowing periods he illustrated +this point from their experiences in the war. All they wanted to +do was to sit down together, and, man to man, talk their difficulties +over. He would be glad to assist them, and he had no doubt as to +the result. He warned the working man that hard times were coming. +The spectre of unemployment was already parading their streets. +Unemployment meant disorder, rioting. This, he assured them, would +not be permitted. At all costs order would be maintained. He had +no wish to threaten, but he promised them that the peace would be +preserved at all costs. He suggested that the strikers should get +back at once to work and the negotiations should proceed in the +meantime. + +At this point Brother Simmons rose. + +"The mayor (h)urges the workers to get back to work," he said. +"Does 'e mean at (h)increased pay, or not? 'E says as 'ow this +strike interferes with business. 'E doesn't tell us what business. +But I can tell 'im it (h)interferes with the business of robbery of +the workin' man. 'E deplores the loss of money to the strikers. +Let me tell 'im that the workin' men are prepared to suffer that +loss. True, they 'ave no big bank accounts to carry 'em on, but +there are things that they love more than money--liberty and +justice and the rights of the people. What are we strikin' for? +Nothin' but what is our own. The workin' man makes (h)everything +that is made. What percentage of the returns does 'e get in wages? +They won't tell us that. Last year these factories were busy in +the makin' o' munitions. Mr. McGinnis 'ere was makin' shells. I'd +like to (h)ask, Mr. Mayor, what profit Mr. McGinnis made out of +these shells." + +Mr. McGinnis sprang to his feet, "I want to tell you," he said in a +voice choking with rage, "that it is none of your high-explosive +business." + +"'E says as it is none o' my business," cried Brother Simmons, +joyously taking Mr. McGinnis on. "Let me (h)ask 'im who paid for +these shells? I did, you did, all of us did. Not my business? +Then 'ose business is it? (H)If 'e was paid a fair price for 'is +shells, (h)all right, I say nothin' against it. If 'e was paid +more than a fair price, then 'e is a robber, worse, 'e is a blood +robber, because the price was paid in blood." + +At once a dozen men were on their feet. Cries of "Order! Order!" +and "Put him out!" arose on every hand. The mayor rose from his +chair and, in an impressive voice, said: "We must have order. Sit +down, Mr. Simmons." Simmons sat down promptly. Union men are +thoroughly disciplined in points of order. "We must have order," +continued the mayor. "I will not permit any citizen to be +insulted. We all did our bit in this town of Blackwater. Some of +us went to fight, and some that could not go to fight 'kept the +home fires burning'." A shout of derisive laughter from the +working men greeted this phrase. The mayor was deeply hurt. "I +want to say that those who could not go to the war did their bit at +home. Let the meeting proceed, but let us observe the courtesies +that are proper in debate." + +Again Simmons took the floor. "As I was sayin', Mr. Mayor--" + +Cries of "Order! Order! Sit down!" + +"--Mr. Mayor, I believe I 'ave the floor?" + +"Yes, you have. Go on. But you must not insult." + +"(H)Insult? Did I (h)insult anybody? I don't know what Mr. McGinnis +made from 'is shells. I only said that if--you (h)understand--if 'e +made more than e ought to, 'e is a robber. And since the price of +our freedom was paid in blood, if 'e made more than was fair, 'e's a +blood robber." + +Again the cries arose. "Throw him out!" Once more the mayor rose. +"You must not make insinuations, sir," he cried angrily. "You must +not make insinuations against respectable citizens." + +"(H)Insinooations," cried Simmons. "No, sir, I never make no +(h)insinooations. If I knew that (h)any man 'ere 'ad made +(h)unfair profits I wouldn't make no (h)insinooations. I would +charge 'im right 'ere with blood robbery. And let me say," shouted +Simmons, taking a step into the aisle, "that the time may come when +the working men of this country will make these charges, and will +(h)ask the people who kept the ''ome fires burning'--" + +Yells of derisive laughter. + +"--what profits came to them from these same 'ome fires. The +people will (h)ask for an (h)explanation of these bank accounts, of +these new factories, of these big stores, of these (h)autermobiles. +The people that went to the war and were (h)unfortoonate enough to +return came back to poverty, while many of these 'ere 'ome fire +burners came (h)out with fortunes." At this point brother Simmons +cast a fierce and baleful eye upon a group of the employers who sat +silent and wrathful before him. "And now, what I say," continued +Brother Simmons-- + +At this point a quiet voice was heard. + +"Mr. Mayor, I rise to a point of order." + +Immediately Simmons took his seat. + +"Mr. Farrington," said the mayor, recognising one of the largest +building contractors in the town. + +"Mr. Mayor, I should like to ask what are we discussing this +afternoon? Are we discussing the war records of the citizens of +Blackwater? If so, that is not what I came for. It may be +interesting to find out what each man did in the war. I find that +those who did most say least. I don't know what Mr. Simmons did in +the war. I suppose he was there." + +With one spring Simmons was on his feet and in the aisle. He +ripped off coat and vest, pulled his shirt over his head and +revealed a back covered with the network of ghastly scars. "The +gentleman (h)asks," he panted, "what I done in the war. I don't +know. I cannot say what I done in the war, but that is what the +war done to me." The effect was positively overwhelming. + +A deadly silence gripped the audience for a single moment. Then +upon every hand rose fierce yells, oaths and strange cries. Above +the uproar came Farrington's booming voice. Leaving his seat, +which was near the back of the hall, he came forward, crying out: + +"Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! I demand attention!" As he reached +Simmons's side, he paused and, facing about, he looked upon the +array of faces pale and tense with passion. "I want to apologise +to this gentleman," he said in a voice breaking with emotion. "I +should not have said what I did. The man who bears these scars is +a man I am proud to know." He turned swiftly toward Simmons with +outstretched hand. "I am proud to know you, sir. I could not go +to the war. I was past age. I sent my two boys. They are over +there still." As the two men shook hands, for once in his life +Simmons was speechless. His face was suffused with uncontrollable +feeling. On every side were seen men, strong men, with tears +streaming down their faces. A nobler spirit seemed to fall upon +them all. In the silence that followed, Mr. Maitland rose. + +"Mr. Mayor," he said quietly, "we have all suffered together in +this war. I, for one, want to do the fair thing by our men. Let +us meet them and talk things over before any fair-minded committee. +Surely we who have suffered together in war can work together in +peace." It was a noble appeal, and met with a noble response. On +all sides and from all parties a storm of cheers broke forth. + +Then the Reverend Murdo Matheson rose to his feet. "Mr. Mayor," he +said, "I confess I was not hopeful of the result of this meeting. +But I am sure we all recognise the presence and influence of a +mightier Spirit than ours. From the outset I have been convinced +that the problems in the industrial situation here are not beyond +solution, and should yield to fair and reasonable consideration. I +venture to move that a committee of five be appointed, two to be +chosen by each of the parties in this dispute, who would in turn +choose a chairman; that this committee meet with representatives of +both parties; and that their decision in all cases be final." + +Mr. Farrington rose and heartily seconded the motion. + +At this point Jack, who was sitting near the platform and whose +eyes were wandering over the audience, was startled by the look on +the face of McNish. It was a look in which mingled fear, anxiety, +wrath. He seemed to be on the point of starting to his feet when +McGinnis broke in: + +"Do I understand that the decision of this committee is to be final +on every point?" + +"Certainly," said the Reverend Murdo. "There is no other way by +which we can arrive at a decision." + +"Do you mean," cried McGinnis, "that if this committee says I must +hire only union men in my foundry that I must do so?" + +"I would reply," said the Reverend Murdo, "that we must trust this +committee to act in a fair and reasonable way." + +But Mr. McGinnis was not satisfied with this answer. + +"I want to know," he cried in growing anger, "I want to know +exactly where we are and I want a definite answer. Will this +committee have the right to force me to employ only union men?" + +"Mr. Mayor," replied the Reverend Murdo, "Mr. McGinnis is right in +asking for definiteness. My answer is that we must trust this +committee to do what is wise and reasonable, and we must accept +their decision as final in every case." + +Thereupon McGinnis rose and expressed an earnest desire for a +tragic and unhappy and age-long fate if he would consent to any +such proposition. With terrible swiftness the spirit of the +meeting was changed. The moment of lofty emotion and noble impulse +passed. The opportunity for reason and fair play to determine the +issue was lost, and the old evil spirit of suspicion and hate fell +upon the audience like a pall. + +At this point McNish, from whose face all anxiety had disappeared, +rose and said: + +"For my part, and speaking for the working men of this town, I am +ready to accept the proposal that has been made. We have no fear +for the justice of our demands like some men here present. We know +we have the right on our side and we are willing to accept the +judgment of such a committee as has been proposed." The words were +fair enough, but the tone of sneering contempt was so irritating +that immediately the position assumed by McGinnis received support +from his fellow employers on every hand. Once more uproar ensued. +The mayor, in a state of angry excitement, sought in vain to +restore order. + +After some minutes of heated altercation with Mr. McGinnis, whom he +threatened with expulsion from the meeting, the mayor finally left +the chair and the meeting broke up in disorder which threatened to +degenerate into a series of personal encounters. + +Again McNish took command. Leaping upon a chair, with a loud voice +which caught at once the ears of his following, he announced that a +meeting was to be held immediately in the union rooms, and he +added: "When these men here want us again, they know where to find +us." He was answered with a roar of approval, and with an ugly +smile on his face he led his people in triumph from the hall, +leaving behind the mayor, still engaged in a heated argument with +McGinnis and certain employers who sympathised with the Irishman's +opinions. Thus the strike passed into another and more dangerous +phase. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +GATHERING CLOUDS + + +On the Rectory lawn a hard-fought game had just finished, bringing +to a conclusion a lengthened series of contests which had extended +over a whole week, in which series Patricia, with her devoted +cavalier, Victor Forsythe, had been forced to accept defeat at the +hands of her sister and her partner, Hugh Maynard. + +"Partner, you were wonderful in that last set!" said Patricia, as +they moved off together to offer their congratulations to their +conquerors. + +"Patsy," said her partner, in a low voice, "as ever, you are superb +in defeat as in victory. Superb, unapproachable, wonderful." + +"Anything else, Vic?" inquired Patsy, grinning at the youth. + +"Oh, a whole lot more, Pat, if you only give me a chance to tell +you." + +"No time just now," cried Patricia as she reached the others. +"Well, you two deserved to win. You played ripping tennis," she +continued, offering Hugh her hand. + +"So did you, Pat. You were at the very top of your form." + +"Well, some other day," said Vic. "I think we are improving a bit, +partner. A little more close harmony will do the trick." + +"Come away, children," said Mrs. Templeton, calling to them from +the shade at the side of the courts. "You must be very tired and +done out. Why, how hot you look, Patricia." + +"Stunning, I should say!" murmured Vic, looking at her with adoring +eyes. + +And a truly wonderful picture the girl made, in her dainty muslin +frock, her bold red hair tossed in a splendid aureole about her +face. Care-free, heart-free, as she flashed from her hearty blue +eyes her saucy and bewitching glances at her partner's face, her +mother sighed, thinking that her baby girl was swiftly slipping +away from her and forever into that wider world of womanhood where +others would claim her. + +In lovely contrast stood her sister, dressed in flannel skirt and +sweater of old gold silk, fair, tall, beautiful, a delicate grace +in every line of her body and a proud, yet gentle strength in every +feature of her face. There dwelt in her deep blue eyes a look of +hidden, mysterious power which had wrought in her mother a certain +fear of her eldest daughter. The mother never quite knew what to +expect from Adrien. Yet, for all, she carried an assured confidence +that whatever she might do, her daughter never would shame the high +traditions of her race. + +The long shadows from the tall elms lay across the velvet sward of +the Rectory lawn. The heat of the early June day had given place +to the cool air of the evening. The exquisitely delicate colouring +from the setting sun flooded the sky overhead and deepened into +blues and purples behind the elms and the church spire. A deep +peace had fallen upon the world except that from the topmost bough +of the tallest elm tree a robin sang, pouring his very heart out in +a song of joyous optimism. + +The little group, disposed upon the lawn according to their various +desires, stood and sat looking up at the brave little songster. + +"How happy he is," said Mrs. Templeton, a wistful cadence of +sadness in her voice. + +"I wonder if he is, Mamma. Perhaps he is only pretending," said +Adrien. + +"Cheerio, old chap!" cried Vic, waving his hand at the gallant +little songster. "You are a regular grouch killer." + +"He has no troubles," said Mrs. Templeton, with a sigh. + +"I wonder, Mamma. Or is he just bluffing us all?" + +"He has no strike, at any rate, to worry him," said Patricia, "and, +by the way, what is the news to-day? Does anybody know? Is there +any change?" + +"Oh," cried Vic, "there has been a most exciting morning at the +E. D. C.--the Employers' Defence Committee," he explained, in answer +to Mrs. Templeton's mystified look. + +"Do go on!" cried Patricia impatiently. "Was there a fight? They +are always having one." + +"Of course there was the usual morning scrap, but with a variation +to-day of a deputation from the brethren of the Ministerial +Association. But, of course, Mrs. Templeton, the Doctor must have +told you already." + +"I hardly ever see him these days. He is dreadfully occupied. +There is so much trouble, sickness and that sort of thing. Oh, it +is all terribly sad. The Doctor is almost worn out." + +"He made a wonderful speech to the magnates, my governor says." + +"Oh, go on, Vic!" cried Patricia. "Why do you stop? You are so +deliberate." + +"I was thinking of that speech," replied Victor more quietly than +was his wont. "It came at a most dramatic moment. The governor +was quite worked up over it and gave me a full account. They had +just got all their reports in--'all safe along the Potomac'--no +break in the front line--Building Industries slightly shaky due to +working men's groups taking on small contracts, which excited great +wrath and which McGinnis declared must be stopped." + +"How can they stop them? This is a free country," said Adrien. + +"Aha!" cried Victor. "Little you know of the resources of the +E. D. C. It is proposed that the supply dealers should refuse +supplies to all builders until the strike is settled. No more +lumber, lime, cement, etc., etc." + +"Boycott, eh? I call that pretty rotten," said Adrien. + +"The majority were pretty much for it, however, except Maitland and +my governor, they protesting that this boycott was hardly playing +the game. Your friend Captain Jack came in for his licks," +continued Vic, turning to Patricia. "It appears he has been +employing strikers in some work or other, which some of the +brethren considered to be not according to Hoyle." + +"Nonsense!" cried Patricia indignantly. "Jack took me yesterday to +see the work. He showed me all the plans and we went over the +grounds. It is a most splendid thing, Mamma! He is laying out +athletic grounds for his men, with a club house and all that sort +of thing. They are going to be perfectly splendid! Do you mean to +say they were blaming him for this? Who was?" And Patricia stood +ready for battle. + +"Kamerad!" cried Vic, holding up his hands. "Not me! However, +Jack was exonerated, for it appears he sent them a letter two weeks +ago, telling them what he proposed to do, to which letter they had +raised no objection." + +"Well, what then?" inquired Patricia. + +"Oh, the usual thing. They all resolved to stand pat--no surrender-- +or, rather, let the whole line advance--you know the stuff--when +into this warlike atmosphere walked the deputation from the +Ministerial Association. It gave the E. D. C. a slight shock, so +my Dad says. The Doctor fired the first gun. My governor says +that it was like a breath from another world. His face was enough. +Everybody felt mean for just being what they were. I know exactly +what that is, for I know the way he makes me feel when I look at him +in church. You know what I mean, Pat." + +"I know," said Patricia softly, letting her hand fall upon her +mother's shoulder. + +"Well," continued Vic, "the Doctor just talked to them as if they +were his children. They hadn't been very good and he was sorry for +them. He would like to help them to be better. The other side, +too, had been doing wrong, and they were having a bad time. They +were suffering, and as he went on to tell them in that wonderful +voice of his about the women and children, every man in the room, +so the governor said, was wondering how much he had in his pocket. +And then he told them of how wicked it was for men whose sons had +died together in France to be fighting each other here in Canada. +Well, you know my governor. As he told me this tale, we just both +of us bowed our heads and wept. It's the truth, so help me, just +as you are doing now, Pat." + +"I am not," cried Patricia indignantly. "And I don't care if I am. +He is a dear and those men are just--" + +"Hush, dear," said Mrs. Templeton gently. "And did they agree to +anything?" + +"Alas, not they, for at that moment some old Johnny began asking +questions and then that old fire-eater, McGinnis, horned in again. +No Arbitration Committee for him--no one could come into his +foundry and tell him how to run his business--same old stuff, you +know. Well, then, the Methodist Johnny took a hand. What's his +name? Haynes, isn't it?" + +"Yes, Haynes," said Hugh Maynard. + +"Well, Brother Haynes took up the tale. He is an eloquent chap, +all right. He took the line 'As you are strong, be pitiful,' but +the psychological moment had gone and the line still held strong. +Campbell of the woollen mills invited him up to view his $25,000.00 +stock 'all dressed up and nowhere to go.' 'Tell me how I can pay +increased wages with this stock on my hands.' And echo answered +'How?' Haynes could not. Then my old chief took a hand--the +Reverend Murdo Matheson. He is a good old scout, a Padre, you +know--regular fire-eater--a rasping voice and grey matter oozing +from his pores. My governor says he abandoned the frontal attack +and took them on the flank. Opened up with a dose of economics +that made them sit up. And when he got through on this line, he +made every man feel that it was entirely due to the courtesy and +forbearance of the union that he was allowed to carry on business +at all. He spiked Brother McGinnis's guns by informing him that if +he was harbouring the idea that he owned a foundry all on his own, +he was labouring under a hallucination. All he owned was a heap of +brick and mortar and some iron and steel junk arranged in some +peculiar way. In fact, there was no foundry there till the workmen +came in and started the wheels going round. Old McGinnis sat +gasping like a chicken with the pip. Then the Padre turned on the +'Liberty of the subject' stop as follows: 'Mr. McGinnis insists +upon liberty to run his foundry as he likes; insists upon perfect +freedom of action. There is no such thing as perfect freedom of +action in modern civilisation. For instance, Mr. McGinnis rushing +to catch a train, hurls his Hudson Six gaily down Main Street +thirty miles an hour, on the left-hand side of the street. A speed +cop sidles up, whispers a sweet something in his ear, hails him +ignominiously into court and invites him to contribute to the +support of the democracy fifty little iron men as an evidence of +his devotion to the sacred principle of personal liberty. In +short, there is no such thing as personal liberty in this burg, +unless it is too late for the cop to see.' The governor says +McGinnis's face afforded a perfect study in emotions. I should +have liked to have seen it. The Padre never took his foot off +the accelerator. He took them all for an excursion along +the 'Responsibility' line: personal responsibility, mutual +responsibility, community responsibility and every responsibility +known to the modern mind. And then when he had them eating out +of his hand, he offered them two alternatives: an Arbitration +Committee as formerly proposed, or a Conciliation Board under the +Lemieux Act. My governor says it was a great speech. He had 'em +all jumping through the hoops." + +"What DO you mean, Vic?" lamented Mrs. Templeton. "I have only the +very vaguest idea of what you have been saying all this time." + +"So sorry, Mrs. Templeton. What I mean is the Padre delivered a +most effective speech." + +"And did they settle anything?" inquired Patricia. + +"I regret to say, Patricia, that your friend Rupert--" + +"My friend, indeed!" cried Patricia. + +"Who comforts you with bonbons," continued Vic, ignoring her words, +"and stays you with joy rides, interposed at this second +psychological crisis. He very cleverly moves a vote of thanks, +bows out the deputation, thanking them for their touching +addresses, and promising consideration. Thereupon, as the door +closed, he proceeded to sound the alarm once more, collected the +scattered forces, flung the gage of battle in the teeth of the +enemy, dared them to do their worst, and there you are." + +"And nothing done?" cried Adrien. "What a shame." + +"What I cannot understand is," said Hugh, "why the unions do not +invoke the Lemieux Act?" + +"Aha!" said Vic. "Why? The same question rose to my lips." + +"The Lemieux Act?" inquired Mrs. Templeton. + +"Yes. You know, Mrs. Templeton, either party in dispute can ask +for a Board of Conciliation, not Arbitration, you understand. This +Board has power to investigate--bring out all the facts--and +failing to effect conciliation, makes public its decision in the +case, leaving both parties at the bar of public opinion." + +"But I cannot understand why the unions do not ask for this +Conciliation Board." + +"I fear, Hugh," said Victor in an awed and solemn voice, "that +there is an Ethiopian in the coal bin." + +"What DOES he mean, Patricia?" + +"He means that there is something very dark and mysterious, Mamma." + +"So there is," said Hugh. "The unions will take an Arbitration +Committee, which the employers decline to give, but they will not +ask for a Conciliation Board." + +"My governor says it's a bluff," said Vic. "The unions know quite +well that McGinnis et hoc genus omne will have nothing to do with +an Arbitration Committee. Hence they are all for an Arbitration +Committee. On the other hand, neither the unions nor McGinnis are +greatly in love with the prying methods of the Conciliation Board, +and hence reject the aid of the Lemieux Act." + +"But why should they all be dominated by a man like McGinnis?" +demanded Adrien. "Why doesn't some employer demand a Conciliation +Board? He can get it, you know." + +"They naturally stand together," said Hugh. + +"But they won't long. Maitland declares that he will take either +board, and that if the committee cannot agree which to choose, he +will withdraw and make terms on his own. He furthermore gave them +warning that if any strike-breakers were employed, of which he had +heard rumours, he would have nothing to do with the bunch." + +"Strike-breakers?" said Adrien. "That would certainly mean serious +trouble." + +"Indeed, you are jolly well right," said Vic. "We will all be in +it then. Civic guard! Special police! 'Shun! Fix bayonets! +Prepare for cavalry! Eh?" + +"Oh, how terrible it all is," said Mrs. Templeton. + +"Nonsense, Vic," said Hugh. "Don't listen to him, Mrs. Templeton. +We will have nothing of that sort." + +"Well, it is all very sad," said Mrs. Templeton. "But here is +Rupert. He will give us the latest." + +But Rupert appeared unwilling to talk about the meeting of the +morning. He was quite certain, however, that the strike was about +to break. He had inside information that the resources of the +unions were almost exhausted. The employers were tightening up +all along the line, credits were being refused at the stores, the +unions were torn with dissension, the end was at hand. + +"It would be a great mercy if it would end soon," said Mrs. +Templeton. "It is a sad pity that these poor people are so +misguided." + +"It is a cruel shame, Mrs. Templeton," said Rupert indignantly. "I +have it from scores of them that they didn't want to strike at all. +They were getting good wages--the wage scale has gone up steadily +during the war to the present extravagant height." + +"The cost of living has gone up much more rapidly, I believe," said +Adrien. "The men are working ten hours a day, the conditions under +which they labour are in some cases deplorable; that McGinnis +foundry is a ghastly place, terribly unhealthy; the girls in many +of the factories are paid wages so shamefully low that they can +hardly maintain themselves in decency, and they are continually +being told that they are about to be dismissed. The wrong's not +all on one side, by any means. To my mind, men like McGinnis who +are unwilling to negotiate are a menace to the country." + +"You are quite right, Adrien," replied Hugh. "I consider him a +most dangerous man. That sort of pig-headed, bull-headed employer +of labour does more to promote strife than a dozen 'walking +delegates.' I am not terribly strong for the unions, but the point +of vantage is always with the employers. And they have a lot to +learn. Oh, you may look at me, Adrien! I am no bolshevist, but I +see a lot of these men in our office." + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE STORM + + +Slowly the evening was deepening into night, but still the glow +from the setting sun lingered in the western sky. The brave little +songster had gone from the top of the elm tree, but from the +shrubbery behind the church a whippoorwill was beginning to tune +his pipe. + +"Oh, listen to the darling!" cried Patricia. "I haven't heard one +for a long, long time." + +"There used to be a great many in the shrubbery here, and in the +old days the woods nearby were full of them in the evenings," said +Mrs. Templeton. + +As they sat listening for the whippoorwill's voice, they became +aware of other sounds floating up to their ears from the town. +The hum of passing motors, the high, shrill laughter of children +playing in the streets, the clang of the locomotive bell from the +railroad station, all softened by distance. But as they listened +there came another sound like nothing they had ever heard in that +place before. A strange, confused rumbling, with cries jutting out +through the dull, rolling noise. A little later came the faint +clash of rhythmic, tumultuous cheering. Patricia's quick ears were +the first to catch the sound. + +"Hush!" she cried. "What is that noise?" + +Again came the rumbling sound, punctuated with quick volleys of +cheering. The men glanced at each other. They knew well that +sound, a sound they had often heard during the stirring days of the +war, in the streets of the great cities across the seas, and in +other places, too, where men were wont to crowd. As they listened +in tense silence, there came the throbbing of a drum. + +"My dear," said Mrs. Templeton faintly to her eldest daughter, "I +think I shall go in." + +At once Hugh offered her his arm, while Adrien took the other, and +together they led her slowly into the house. + +Meanwhile the others tumbled into Rupert's car and motored down +to the gate, and there waited the approach of what seemed to be a +procession of some sort or other. + +At the gate Dr. Templeton, returning from his pastor visitations, +found them standing. + +"Come here, Papa!" cried Patricia. "Let us wait here. There is +something coming up the street." + +"But what is it?" asked Dr. Templeton. "Does anybody know?" + +"I guess it is a strikers' parade, sir. I heard that they were to +organise a march-out to-night. It is rather a ridiculous thing." + +Through the deepening twilight they could see at the head of the +column and immediately before the band, a double platoon of young +girls dressed in white, under the command of an officer +distinguished from the others by her red sash, all marching with a +beautiful precision to the tap of the drum. As the head of the +column drew opposite, Patricia touched Vic's arm. + +"Vic!" she cried. "Look! Look at that girl! It is Annette!" + +"My aunt! So it is!" cried Vic. "Jove! What a picture she makes! +What a swing!" + +Behind that swinging company of girls came the band, marching to +the tapping of the drum only. Then after a space came a figure, +pathetic, arresting, moving--a woman, obviously a workman's wife, +of middle age, grey, workworn, and carrying a babe of a few months +in her arms, marched alone. Plainly dressed, her grey head bare, +she walked proudly erect but with evident signs of weariness. The +appearance of that lone, weary, grey-haired woman and her helpless +babe struck hard upon the heart with its poignant appeal, choking +men's throats and bringing hot tears to women's eyes. Following +that lonely figure came one who was apparently the officer in +command of the column. As he came opposite the gate, his eye fell +upon the group there. Swiftly he turned about, and, like a +trumpet, his voice rang out in command: + +"Ba-t-t-a-a-lion, halt!! R-r-r-i-g-h-t turn!" + +Immediately the whole column came to a halt and faced toward the +side of the street where stood the group within the shadow of the +gate. + +"I am going to get Annette," said Patricia to her father, and she +darted off, returning almost immediately with the leader of the +girls' squad. + +"What does this mean, Annette? What are you doing? It is a great +lark!" cried Patricia. + +"Well, it is not exactly a lark," answered Annette, with a slight +laugh. "You see, we girls want to help out the boys. We are +strikers, too, you know. They asked us to take part in the parade, +and here we are. But it's got away past being a lark," she +continued, her voice and face growing stern. "There is a lot of +suffering among the workers. I know all my money has gone," she +added, after a moment, with a gay laugh. + +Meantime, the officer commanding the column had spoken a few words +to the leader of the band, and in response, to the surprise and +dismay of the venerable Doctor, the band struck up that rollicking +air associated with the time-honoured chorus, "For He's a Jolly +Good Fellow." Then all stood silent, gazing at the Doctor, who, +much embarrassed, could only gaze back in return. + +"Papa, dear," said Adrien, who with Hugh Maynard had joined them at +the gate, "you will have to speak to them." + +"Speak to them, my dear? What in the world could I say? I have +nothing to say to them." + +"Oh, but you must, Papa! Just thank them." + +"And tell them you are all for them, Daddy!" added Patricia +impulsively. + +Then the old Doctor, buttoning his coat tightly about him and +drawing himself erect, said: + +"Rupert, please run your car out to the road. Thank you." +Mounting the car, he stood waiting quietly till the cheering had +died down into silence, his beautiful, noble, saintly face lit with +the faint glow that still came from the western sky but more with +the inner light that shines from a soul filled with high faith in +God and compassion for man. + +"Gentlemen--" he began. + +"Ladies, too, Papa," said Patricia in a clear undertone. + +"Ah!" corrected the Doctor. "Ladies and Gentlemen:" while a laugh +ran down the line. "One generally begins a speech with the words +'I am glad to see you here.' These words I cannot say this +evening. I regret more deeply than you can understand the occasion +of your being here at all. And in this regret I know that you all +share. But I am glad that I can say from my heart that I feel +honoured by and deeply moved by the compliment you have just paid +me through your band. I could wish, indeed, that I was the 'jolly +good fellow' you have said, but as I look at you I confess I am +anything but 'jolly.' I have been in too many of your homes during +the last three weeks to be jolly. The simple truth is, I am deeply +saddened and, whatever be the rights or wrongs, and all fair-minded +men will agree that there are rights and wrongs on both sides, my +heart goes out in sympathy to all who are suffering and anxious and +fearful for the future. I will try to do my best to bring about a +better understanding." + +"We know that, sir," shouted a voice. "Ye done yer best." + +"But so far I and those labouring with me have failed. But surely, +surely, wise and reasonable men can find before many days a +solution for these problems. And now let me beg your leaders to be +patient a little longer, to banish angry and suspicious feelings +and to be willing to follow the light. I see that many of you are +soldiers. To you my heart goes out with a love as true as if you +were my own sons, for you were the comrades of my son. Let me +appeal to you to preserve unbroken that fine spirit of comradeship +that made the Canadian Army what it was. And let me assure you all +that, however our weak and erring human hearts may fail and come +short, the great heart of the Eternal Father is unchanging in Its +love and pity for us all. Meantime, believe me, I shall never +cease to labour and pray that very soon peace may come to us +again." Then, lifting his hands over them while the men uncovered, +he said a brief prayer, closing with the apostolic blessing. + +Startled at the burst of cheering which followed shortly after the +conclusion of the prayer, the babe broke into loud crying. Vainly +the weary mother sought to quiet her child, she herself well-nigh +exhausted with her march, being hardly able to stand erect. +Swiftly Adrien sprang from the car and ran out to her. + +"Let me carry the babe," she cried, taking the child in her arms. +"Come into the car with me." + +"No," said the woman fiercely. "I will go through with it." But +even as she spoke she swayed upon her feet. + +With gentle insistence, however, Adrien caught her arm and forced +her toward the car. + +"I will not leave them," said the woman stubbornly. + +"Speak to her, Annette," said Adrien. "She cannot walk." + +"Mrs. Egan," said Annette, coming to her, "it will be quite all +right to go in the car. It will be all the better. Think of the +fine parade it will make." + +But, still protesting, the old woman hung back, crying, "Let me go! +I will go through!" + +"Sure thing!" cried Patricia. "We will take you along. Where's +Rupert?" + +But Rupert, furious and disgusted, hung back in the shadow. + +"Here, Vic!" cried Patricia. "You take the wheel!" + +"Delighted, I am sure!" cried Vic, climbing into the seat. "Get in +here, Patsy. All set, Colonel," he added, saluting to the officer +in command of the parade, and again the column broke into cheering +as they moved off to the tap of the drum, Rupert's elegant Hudson +Six taking a place immediately following the band. + +"All my life I have longed for the spotlight," murmured Vic to his +companion, a delighted grin on his face. "But one can have too +much of a good thing. And, with Wellington, I am praying that +night may come before I reach the haunts of my comrades in arms." + +"Why, Vic, do you care?" cried Patricia. "Not I! And I think it +was just splendid of Adrien!" + +"Oh, topping! But did you see the gentle Rupert's face? Oh, it +was simply priceless! Fancy this sacred car leading a strikers' +parade." And Vic's body shook with delighted chuckles. + +"Don't laugh, Vic!" said Patricia, laying her hand upon his arm. +"The lady behind will see you." + +"Steady it is," said Vic. "But I feel as if I were the elephant in +the circus. I say, can we execute a flank movement, or must we go +through to the bitter end?" + +"Adrien," said Patricia, "do you think this night air is good for +the baby?" + +"We shall go on a bit yet," said Adrien. "Mrs. Egan is very tired +and I am sure will want to go home presently." + +But Mrs. Egan was beginning to recover her strength and, indeed, +to enjoy the new distinction of riding in a car, and in this high +company. + +"No," she said, "I must go through." She had the look and tone of +a martyr. "They chose me, you see, and I must go through!" + +"Oh, very well," said Adrien cheerfully. "We shall just go along, +Vic." + +Through the main streets of the town the parade marched and +countermarched till, in a sudden, they found themselves in front of +the McGinnis foundry. Before the gate in the high board fence +which enclosed the property, a small crowd had gathered, which +greeted the marching column with uproarious cheers. From the +company at the gate a man rushed forward and spoke eagerly to the +officer in command. + +"By Jove, there's Tony!" said Vic. "And that chap McDonough. What +does this mean?" + +After a brief conversation with Tony, who apparently was +passionately pressing his opinion, the officer shook his head and +marched steadily forward. Suddenly Tony, climbing upon the fence, +threw up his hand and, pointing toward the foundry, shouted forth +the single word, "Scabs!" Instantly the column halted. Again +Tony, in a yell, uttered the same word, "Scabs!" From hundreds of +throats there was an answering roar, savage, bloodthirsty as from a +pack of wild beasts. Tony waved his hand for silence. + +"Scabs!" he cried again. "McGinnis strike-breakers! They came to- +night. They are in there!" He swung his arm around and pointed to +the foundry. "Shall we give them a welcome? What do you say, +boys?" Again and more fiercely than before, more terribly cruel, +came the answering roar. + +"Here, this is no place for you!" cried Vic. "Let's get out." At +his touch the machine leaped forward, clear of the crowd. + +"Annette!" cried Adrien, her hand on Vic's shoulder. "Go and get +her!" + +Halting the car, Vic leaped from the wheel, ran to where the girls' +squad was halted and caught Annette by the arm. + +"Annette," he said, "get your girls away from here quick! Come +with us!" + +But Annette laughed scornfully at him. + +"Go with you? Not I! But," she added in a breathless undertone, +"for God's sake, get your ladies and the baby away. These people +won't know who you are. Move quick!" + +"Come with us, Annette!" implored Vic. "If you come, the rest will +follow." + +"Go! Go!" cried Annette, pushing him. Already the crowd were +tearing the fence to pieces with their hands, and rocks were +beginning to fly. + +Failing to move the girl, Vic sprang to the wheel again. + +"I will get you away from this, anyway," he said. + +"But Annette!" cried Patricia. "We can't leave her!" + +But Vic made no reply, and at his touch the machine leaped forward, +and none too soon, for already men were crowding about the car on +every side. + +"We are well out of that!" said Vic coolly. "And now I will take +you all home. Hello! They're messing up McGinnis's things a bit," +he added, as the sound of crashing glass came to their ears. + +Through the quiet streets the car flew like a hunted thing, and in +a very few minutes they were at the Rectory door. + +"No fuss, now, Patricia," said Adrien. "we must not alarm Mamma. +All steady." + +"Right you are! Steady it is!" said Patricia springing from the +car. Quietly but swiftly they got the woman and the child indoors. + +"Hugh! Rupert!" said Adrien, speaking in a quiet voice. "Vic +needs you out there. That is a wild car of yours, Rupert," she +added with a laugh. "It fairly flies." Gathering in her hands the +men's hats and sticks, she hurried them out of the door. + +"Cheerio!" cried Vic. "A lovely war is going on down at the +McGinnis plant. Get in and let us plan a campaign. First, to +Police Headquarters, I suppose." As they flew through the streets +Vic gave them in a few words a picture of the scenes he had just +witnessed. + +They found the Chief of Police in his office. At their first word +he was on the move. + +"I was afraid of this thing when that fool parade started," he +said. "Sergeant, send out the general alarm!" + +"How many men have you, Chief?" inquired Hugh. + +"About twenty-five, all told. But they are all over the town. How +many men are down there?" + +"There are five hundred, at least; possibly a thousand, raging like +wild bulls of Bashan." + +As he spoke, another car came tearing up and Jack Maitland sprang +from the wheel. + +"Are you in need of help, Chief?" he asked quietly. + +"All the good men we can get," said the Chief curtly. "But first +we must get the Mayor here. Sergeant, get him on the phone." + +"You go for him, Vic," said Jack. + +"Righto!" cried Vic. "But count me in on this." + +In fifteen minutes Vic was back with the Mayor, helpless with +nervous excitement. + +"Get your men out, Chief!" he shouted, as he sprang from the car. +"Get them out quick, arrest those devils and lock 'em up! We'll +show them a thing or two! Hurry up! What are you waiting for?" + +"Mr. Mayor," Jack's clear, firm, cool voice arrested the Mayor's +attention. "May I suggest that you swear in some special +constables? The Chief will need help and some of us here would be +glad to assist." + +"Yes! Yes! For God's sake, hurry up! Here's the clerk. How do +you swear them in, clerk?" + +"The Chief of Police has all the necessary authority." + +"All right, Chief. Swear them! Swear them! For heaven's sake, +swear them! Here, you, Maitland--and you, Maynard--and Stillwell--" + +With cool, swift efficiency born of his experience in the war, the +Chief went on with his arrangements. In his hands the process of +swearing in a number of special constables was speedily accomplished. +Meantime many cars and a considerable number of men had gathered +about the Police Headquarters. + +"What is that light?" cried the Mayor suddenly, pointing in the +direction of the foundry. "It's a fire! My God, Chief, do you see +that fire? Hurry up! Why don't you hurry up? They will burn the +town down." + +"All right, Mr. Mayor," said the Chief. "We shall be there in a +few minutes now. Captain Maitland," said the Chief, "I will take +the men I have with me. Will you swear in all you can get within +the next fifteen or twenty minutes, and report to me at the +foundry? Sergeant, you come along with me! I'm off!" So saying, +the Chief commandeered as many cars as were necessary, packed them +with the members of his police force available and with the +specials he had secured, and hurried away. + +After the Chief had retired, Jack stood up in his car. "Any of you +chaps want to get into this?" he said, addressing the crowd. His +voice was cheery and cool. At once a dozen voices responded. +"Righto!" "Here you are!" "Put me down!" In less than fifteen +minutes, he had secured between forty and fifty men. + +"I want all these cars," he said. "Get in, men. Hold on!" he +shouted at a driver who had thrown in his clutch. "Let no man move +without orders! Any man disobeying orders will be arrested at +once! Remember that no guns are to be used, no matter what +provocation may be given. Even if you are fired on, don't fire in +return! Does any man know where we can get anything in the shape +of clubs?" + +"Hundreds of axe handles in our store," said Rupert. + +"Right you are! Drivers, fall in line. Keep close up. Now, Mr. +Mayor, if you please." + +Armed with axe handles from Stillwell & Son's store, they set off +for the scene of action. Arrived at the foundry they found the +maddest, wildest confusion raging along the street in front of the +foundry, and in the foundry yard which was crowded with men. The +board fence along the front of the grounds had been torn down and +used as fagots to fire the foundry, which was blazing merrily in a +dozen places. Everywhere about the blazing building parties of men +like hounds on the trail were hunting down strike-breakers and, on +finding them, were brutally battering them into insensibility. + +Driving his car through the crowd, Maitland found his way to the +Chief. In a few short, sharp sentences, the Chief explained his +plan of operations. "Clear the street in front, and hold it so! +Then come and assist me in clearing this yard." + +"All right, sir!" replied Maitland, touching his hat as to a +superior officer, and, wheeling his car, he led his men back to +the thronging street. + +Meantime, the Fire Department had arrived upon the scene with a +couple of engines, a hose reel and other fire-fighting apparatus, +the firemen greatly hampered in their operations. + +Swinging his car back through the crowd, Maitland made his way to +the street, and set to work to clear the space immediately in front +of the foundry. Parking his cars at one end of the street, and +forming his men up in a single line, he began slowly to press back +the crowd. It was slow and difficult work, for the crowd, unable +to recognise his ununiformed special constables, resented their +attack. + +He called Victor to his side. "Get a man with you," he said, "and +bring up two cars here." + +"Come along, Rupert," cried Victor, seizing Stillwell, and together +they darted back to where the cars stood. Mounting one of the +cars, Maitland shouted in a loud voice: + +"The Chief of Police wants this street cleared. So get back, +please! We don't wish to hurt anyone. Now, get back!" And lining +up level with the cars, the special constables again began to press +forward, using their axe handles as bayonets and seeking to prod +their way through. + +High up on a telegraph pole, his foot on one of the climbing +spikes, was a man directing and encouraging the attack. As he drew +near, Maitland discovered this man to be no other than Tony, wildly +excited and vastly enjoying himself. + +"Come down, Tony!" he said. "Hurry up!" + +"Cheerio, Captain!" shouted Tony. "What about Festubert?" + +"Come down, Tony," said Maitland, "and be quick about it!" + +"Sorry, can't do it, Captain. I am a fixture here." + +Like a cat, Maitland swarmed up the pole and coming to a level with +Tony, struck him swiftly and unexpectedly a single blow. It caught +Tony on the chin. He swung off from the post, hung a moment, then +dropped quietly to the ground. As he fell, a woman's shriek rang +out from the crowd and tearing her way through the line came +Annette, who flung herself upon her brother. + +"Here you," said Jack, seizing a couple of men from the crowd, "get +this man in my car. Now, Annette," he continued, "don't make a +fuss. Tony isn't hurt. We'll send him quietly home. Now then, +men, let's have no nonsense," he shouted. "I want this street +cleared, and quick!" + +As he spoke, a huge man ran out from the crowd and, with an oath, +flung himself at Maitland. But before he came within striking +distance, an axe handle flashed and the man went down like a log. + +"Axe handles!" shouted Maitland. "But steady, men!" + +Over the heads of the advancing line, the axe handles swung, men +dropping before them at every step. At once the crowd began a +hasty retreat, till the pressure upon the back lines made it +impossible for those in front to escape. From over the heads of +the crowd rocks began to fly. A number of his specials were +wounded and for a moment the advance hung fire. Down through the +crowd came a fireman, dragging with him a hose preparatory to +getting into action. + +"Hello, there!" called Maitland. The fireman looked up at him. +Jack sprang down to his side. "I want to clear this street," he +said. "You can do it for me." + +"Well, I can try," said the fireman with a grin, and turning his +hose toward the crowd, gave the signal for the water, holding the +nozzle at an angle slightly off the perpendicular. In a very few +moments the crowd in the rear found themselves under a deluge of +falling water, and immediately they took to their heels, followed +as rapidly as possible by those in front. Then, levelling his +nozzle, the fireman proceeded to wash back from either side of the +street those who had sought refuge there, and before many minutes +had elapsed, the street was cleared, and in command of Maitland's +specials. + +Leaving the street under guard, Maitland and his specials went to +the help of the Chief, who was hampered more or less by His +Worship, the Mayor, and very considerably by Mr. McGinnis, who had +meantime arrived, mad with rage and demanding blood, and proceeded +to clear up the foundry yard, and rescue the strike-breakers who +had taken refuge within the burning building and in holes and +corners about the premises. It was no light matter, but under the +patient, good-natured but resolute direction of the Chief, they +finally completed their job, rounding up the strike-breakers in a +corner of the yard and driving off their assailants to a safe +distance. + +There remained still the most difficult part of their task. The +strike-breakers must be got to the Police Headquarters, the nearest +available place of safety. For, on the street beyond the water +line, the crowd was still waiting in wrathful mood. The foundry +was a wreck, but even this did not satisfy the fury of the +strikers, which had been excited by the presence of the strike- +breakers imported by McGinnis. For the more seriously injured, +ambulances were called, and these were safely got off under police +guard to the General Hospital. + +The Chief entered into consultation with the Mayor: + +"The only safe place within reach," he said, "is Police Headquarters. +And the shortest and best route is up the hill to the left. But +unfortunately, that is where the big crowd is gathered. There are +not so many if we take the route to the right, but that is a longer +way round." + +"Put the men in your cars, Chief," said McGinnis, "and smash your +way through. They can't stop you." + +"Yes, and kill a dozen or so," said the Chief. + +"Why not? Aren't they breaking the law?" + +"Oh, well, Mr. McGinnis," said the Chief, "it is easy to kill men. +The trouble is they are no use to anybody after they are dead. No, +we must have no killing to-night. To-morrow we'd be sorry for it." + +"Let us drive up and see them," suggested the Mayor. "Let me talk +to the boys. The boys know me." + +The Chief did not appear to be greatly in love with the suggestion +of the Mayor. + +"Well," he said, "it would do no harm to drive up and have a look +at them. We'll see how they are fixed, anyway. I think, Mr. +McGinnis, you had better remain on guard here. The Mayor and +Captain Maitland will come with me." + +Commandeering Rupert and his car, the Chief took his party at a +moderate pace up the street, at the top of which the crowd stood +waiting in compact masses. Into these masses Rupert recklessly +drove his car. + +"Steady there, Stillwell," warned the Chief. "You'll hurt +someone." + +"Hurt them?" said Rupert. "What do you want?" + +"Certainly not to hurt anyone," replied the Chief quietly. "The +function of my police force is the protection of citizens. Halt +there!" + +The Chief stepped out among the strikers and stood in the glare of +the headlights. + +"Well, boys," he said pleasantly, "don't you think it is time to +get home? I think you have done enough damage to-night already. I +am going to give you a chance to get away. We don't want to hurt +anyone and we don't want to have any of you down for five years or +so." + +Then the Mayor spoke up. "Men, this is a most disgraceful thing. +Most deplorable. Think of the stain upon the good name of our fair +city." + +Howls of derision drowned his further speech for a time. + +"Now, boys," he continued, "can't we end this thing right here? +Why can't you disperse quietly and go to your homes? What do you +want here, anyway?" + +"Scabs!" yelled a voice, followed by a savage yell from the crowd. + +"Men," said the Chief sharply, "you know me. I want this street +cleared. I shall return here in five minutes and anyone seeking to +stop me will do so at his own risk. I have a hundred men down +there and this time they won't give you the soft end of the club." + +"We want them sulphurously described scabs," yelled a voice. "We +ain't goin' to kill them, Chief. They're lousy. We want to give +'em a bath." And a savage yell of laughter greeted the remark. On +every hand the word was taken up: "A bath! A bath! The river! +The river!" The savage laughter of the crowd was even more +horrible than their rage. + +"All right, boys. We are coming back and we are going through. +Leave this street clear or take your chances! It's up to you!" So +saying, the car was turned about and the party proceeded back to +the foundry. + +"What are you going to do, Chief?" inquired the Mayor anxiously. + +"There are a lot of soldiers in that crowd," said the Chief. "I +don't like the looks of them. They are too steady. I hate to +smash through them." + +Arrived at the foundry, the Chief paced up and down, pondering his +problem. He called Maitland to his side. + +"How many cars have we here, Maitland?" he inquired. + +"Some fifteen, I think. And there are five or six more parked down +on the street." + +"That would be enough," said the Chief. "I hate the idea of +smashing through that crowd. You see, some of those boys went +through hell with me and I hate to hurt them." + +"Why not try a ruse?" suggested Maitland. "Divide your party. You +take five or six cars with constables up the hill to that crowd +there. Let me take the strikebreakers and the rest of the cars and +make a dash to the right. It's a longer way round but with the +streets clear, we can arrive at Headquarters in a very few +minutes." + +The Chief considered the plan for a few minutes in silence. + +"It's a good plan, Maitland," he said at length. "It's a good +plan. And we'll put it through. I'll make the feint on the left; +you run them through on the right. I believe we can pull it off. +Give me a few minutes to engage their attention before you set +out." + +Everything came off according to plan. As the Chief's detachment +of cars approached the solid mass of strikers, they slowly gave +back before them. + +"Clear the way there!" said the Chief. "We are going through!" + +Step by step the crowd gave way, pressed by the approaching cars. +Suddenly, at a word of command, the mass opened ranks and the Chief +saw before him a barrier across the street, constructed of fencing +torn from neighbouring gardens, an upturned delivery wagon, a very +ugly and very savage-looking field harrow commandeered from a +neighbouring market garden, with wicked-looking, protruding teeth +and other debris of varied material, but all helping to produce a +most effective barricade. Silently the Chief stood for a few +moments, gazing at the obstruction. A curious, ominous growl of +laughter ran through the mob. Then came a sharp word of command: + +"Unload!" + +As with one movement his party of constables were on the ground and +lined up in front of their cars, with their clubs and axe handles +ready for service. Still the mob waited in ominous silence. The +Chief drew his gun and said in a loud, clear voice: + +"I am going to clear away this barricade. The first man that +offers to prevent me I shall shoot on the spot." + +"I wouldn't do that, Chief," said a voice quietly from the rear. +"There are others, you know. Listen." + +Three shots rang out in rapid succession, and again silence fell. + +Meantime from the corner of the barricade a man had been peering +into the cars. + +"Boys!" he shouted. "They ain't there! There ain't no scabs." + +The Chief laughed quietly. + +"Who said there were?" he asked. + +"Sold, by thunder!" said the man. Then he yelled: "We'll get 'em +yet. Come on, boys, to the main street." + +Like a deer, he doubled down a side street, followed by the crowd, +yelling, cursing, swearing deep oaths. + +"Let 'em go," said the Chief. "Maitland's got through by this +time." As he spoke, two shots rang out, followed by the crash of +glass, and the headlights of the first car went black. + +"Just as well you didn't get through, Chief," said the voice of the +previous speaker. "Might've got hurt, eh?" + +"Give it to him, Chief," said Rupert savagely. + +"No use," said the Chief. "Let him go." + +Meanwhile, Maitland, with little or no opposition, had got his cars +through the crowd, which as a matter of fact were unaware of the +identity of the party until after they had broken through. + +Their way led by a circuitous route through quiet back streets, +approaching Police Headquarters from the rear. A ten-minute run +brought them to a short side street which led past the Maitland +Mills, at the entrance to which they saw under the glare of the arc +lights over the gateway a crowd blocking their way. + +"Now, what in thunder is this? Hold up a minute," said Maitland to +his driver. "Let me take a look." He ran forward to the main +entrance. There he found the gateway, which stood a little above +the street level, blocked by a number of his own men, some of whom +he recognised as members of his hockey team, and among them, +McNish. Out in the street among the crowd stood Simmons, standing +on a barrel, lashing himself into a frenzy and demanding blood, +fire, revolution, and what not. + +"McNish, you here?" said Maitland sharply. "What is it, peace or +war? Speak quick!" + +"A'm haudden these fules back fra the mill," answered McNish with +a scowl. Then, dropping into his book English, he continued +bitterly: "They have done enough to-night already. They have +wrecked our cause for us!" + +"You are dead right, McNish," answered Maitland. "And what do they +want here?" + +"They are some of McGinnis's men and they are mad at the way you +handled them over yonder. They are bound to get in here. They are +only waiting for the rest of the crowd. Yon eejit doesn't know +what he is saying. They are all half-drunk." + +Maitland's mind worked swiftly. "McNish, listen!" he said. "I am +in a deuce of a fix. I have the scabs in those cars there with me. +The crowd are following me up. What shall I do?" + +"My God, man, you're lost. They'll tear ye tae bits." + +"McNish, listen. I'll run them into the office by the side gate +down the street. Keep them busy here. Let that fool Simmons spout +all he wants. He'll help to make a row." + +His eyes fell upon a crouching figure at his feet. + +"Who is this? It's Sam, by all that's holy! Why, Sam, you are the +very chap I want. Listen, boy. Slip around to the side door and +open it wide till I bring in some cars. Then shut and bar it +quick." Carefully he repeated his instructions. "Can you do it, +Sam?" + +"I'm awful scared, Captain," replied the boy, his teeth chattering, +"but I'll try it." + +"Good boy," said Maitland. "Don't fail me, Sam. They might kill +me." + +"All right, Captain. I'll do it!" And Sam disappeared, crawling +under the gate, while Maitland slipped back to his cars and passed +the word among the drivers. "Keep close up and stop for nothing!" + +They had almost made the entry when some man hanging on the rear of +the crowd caught sight of them. + +"Scabs! Scabs!" cried the man, dashing after the cars. But Sam +was equal to his task, and as the last car passed through the +gateway he slammed and bolted the door in their faces. + +Disposing of the strike-breakers in the office, Maitland and his +guard of specials passed outside to the main gate and took their +places beside McNish and his guard. Before them the mob had become +a mad, yelling, frenzied thing, bereft of power of thought, swaying +under the fury of their passion like tree tops blown by storm, +reiterating in hoarse and broken cries the single word "Scabs! +Scabs!" + +"Keep them going somehow, McNish," said Maitland. "The Chief won't +be long now." + +McNish climbed up upon the fence and, held in place there by two +specials, lifted his hand for silence. But Simmons, who all too +obviously had fallen under the spell of the bootleggers, knew too +well the peril of his cause. Shrill and savage rose his voice: + +"Don't listen to 'im. 'E's a traitor, a blank and double-blank +traitor. 'E sold us (h)up, 'e 'as. Don't listen to 'im." + +Like a maniac he spat out the words from his foam-flecked lips, +waving his arms madly about his head. Relief came from an +unexpected source. Sam Wigglesworth, annoyed at Simmons's +persistence and observing that McNish, to whom as a labour leader +he felt himself bound, regarded the orating and gesticulating +Simmons with disfavour, reached down and, pulling a sizable club +from beneath the bottom of a fence, took careful aim and, with the +accuracy of the baseball pitcher that he was, hurled it at the +swaying figure upon the barrel. The club caught Simmons fair in +the mouth, who, being, none too firmly set upon his pedestal, +itself affording a wobbling foothold, landed spatting and swearing +in the arms of his friends below. With the mercurial temper +characteristic of a crowd, they burst into a yell of laughter. + +"Go to it now, McNish!" said Maitland. + +Echoing the laughter, McNish once more held up his hand. "Earth to +earth, ashes to ashes," he said in his deepest and most solemn +tone. The phenomenal absurdity of a joke from the solemn Scotchman +again tickled the uncertain temperament of the crowd into +boisterous laughter. + +"Men, listen tae me!" cried McNish. "Ye mad a bad mistake the +nicht. In fact, ye're a lot of fules. And those who led ye are +worse, for they have lost us the strike, if that is any +satisfaction tae ye. And now ye want to do another fule thing. +Ye're mad just because ye didn't know enough to keep out of the +wet." + +But at this point, a man fighting his way from the rear of the +crowd, once more raised the cry "Scabs!" + +"Keep that fool quiet," said McNish sharply. + +"Keep quiet yourself, McNish," replied the man, still pushing his +way toward the front. + +"Heaven help us now," said Maitland. "It's Tony, and drunk at +that!" + +It was indeed Tony, without hat, coat or vest. + +"McNish, we want those scabs," said Tony, in drunken gravity. + +"There are nae scabs here. Haud ye're drunken tongue," said McNish +savagely. + +"McNish," persisted Tony in a grave and perfectly courteous tone, +"you're a liar. The scabs are in that office." A roar again swept +the crowd. + +"Men, listen to me," pleaded McNish. "A'll tell ye about the +scabs. They are in the office yonder. But I have Captain +Maitland's word o' honour that they will be shipped out of town +by the first train." + +A savage yell answered him. + +"McNish, we'll do the shipping," said Tony, moving still nearer the +speaker. + +"Officer," said Maitland sharply to a uniformed policeman standing +by his side, "arrest that man!" pointing to Tony. + +The policeman drew his baton, took two strides forward, seized Tony +by the back of the neck and drew him in. An angry yell went up +from the mob. Maitland felt a hand upon his arm. Looking down, he +saw to his horror and dismay Annette, her face white and stricken +with grief and terror. + +"Oh, Jack," she pleaded, "don't let Tony be arrested. He broke +away from us. Let me take him. He will come with me. Oh, let me +take him!" + +"Rescue! Rescue!" shouted the crowd, rushing the cordon of police +lining the street. + +"Kill him! Kill the traitor!" yelled Simmons, struggling through +and waving unsteadily the revolver in his hand. "Down with that +tyrant, Maitland! Kill him!" he shrieked. + +He raised his arm, holding his gun with both hands. + +"Look out, Jack," shrieked Annette, flinging herself on him. + +Simultaneously with the shot, a woman's scream rang out and Annette +fell back into Maitland's arms. A silence deep as death fell upon +the mob. + +With a groan McNish dropped from the fence beside the girl. + +Annette opened her eyes and, looking up into Maitland's face, +whispered: "He didn't get you, Jack. I'm so glad." + +"Oh, Annette, dear girl! He's killed you!" + +"It's--all--right--Jack," she whispered. "I--saved--you." + +Meanwhile McNish, with her hand caught in his, was sobbing: "God, +have mercy! She's deed! She's deed!" + +Annette again opened her eyes. "Poor Malcolm," she whispered. +"Dear Malcolm." Then, closing her eyes again, quietly as a tired +child, she sank into unconsciousness. The big Scotchman, still +kissing her hand, sobbed: + +"Puir lassie, puir lassie! Ma God! Ma God! What now? What now?" + +"She is dead. The girl is dead." The word passed from lip to lip +among the crowd, which still held motionless and silent. + +"We'll get her into the office," said Maitland. + +"A'll tak her," said McNish, and, stopping down, he lifted her +tenderly in his arms, stood for a moment facing the crowd, and then +in a voice of unutterable sadness that told of a broken heart, he +said: "Ye've killed her. Ye've killed the puir lassie. Are ye +content?" And passed in through the gate, holding the motionless +form close to his heart. + +As he passed with his pathetic burden, the men on guard at the gate +bared their heads. Immediately on every hand throughout the crowd +men took off their hats and stood silent till he had disappeared +from their sight. In the presence of that poignant grief their +rage against him ceased, swept out of their hearts by an +overwhelming pity. + +In one swift instant a door had opened from another and unknown +world, and through the open door a Presence, majestic, imperious, +had moved in upon them, withering with His icy breath their hot +passions, smiting their noisy clamour to guilty silence. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A GALLANT FIGHT + + +In the Rectory the night was one long agony of fear and anxiety. +Adrien had taken Mrs. Egan and her babe home in a taxi as soon as +circumstances would warrant, and then, lest they should alarm their +mother, they made pretense of retiring for the night. + +After seeing their mother safely bestowed, they slipped downstairs, +and, muffling the telephone, sat waiting for news, slipping out now +and then to the street, one at a time, to watch the glare of the +fire in the sky and to listen for the sounds of rioting from the +town. + +At length from Victor came news of the tragedy. With whitening +face, Adrien took the message. Not for nothing had she walked the +wards in France. + +"Listen, Victor," she said, speaking in a quick, firm voice. "It +is almost impossible to get a nurse in time and quite impossible to +get one skilled in this sort of case. Come for me. I shall be +ready and shall take charge. Tell Dr. Meredith I am quite free." + +"All right. Lose no time." + +"Oh, what is it, Adrien?" said Patricia, wringing her hands. "Is +it Jack? Or Victor?" + +Adrien caught her by the shoulders: "Patricia, I want your help. +No talk! Come with me. I will tell you as I dress." + +Swiftly, with no hurry or flurry, Adrien changed into her uniform, +packed her bag, giving Patricia meantime the story of the tragedy +which she had heard over the telephone. + +"And to think it might have been Jack," said Patricia, wringing her +hands. "Oh, dear, dear Annette. Can't I help in some way, +Adrien?" + +"Patricia, listen to me, child. The first thing is keep your head. +You can help me greatly. You will take charge here and later, +perhaps, you can help me in other ways. Meantime you must assume +full responsibility for them all here. Much depends on you!" + +The girl stood gazing with wide-open blue eyes at her sister. Then +quietly she answered: + +"I'll do my best, Adrien. There's Vic." She rushed swiftly +downstairs. Suddenly she stopped, steadied her pace, and received +him with a calm that surprised that young man beyond measure. + +"Adrien is quite ready, Vic," she said. + +"Topping," said Vic. "What a brick she is! Dr. Meredith didn't +know where to turn for a nurse. The hospital is full. Every nurse +is engaged. So much sickness, you know, in town. Ah, here she is. +You are a lightning-change artist, Adrien." + +"How is Annette, Vic? Is she still living?" asked Patricia. + +"I don't know," replied Vic, wondering at the change in the girl +before him. + +"Darling," said Adrien, "I will let you know at once. I hate to +leave you." + +"Leave me!" cried Patricia. "Nonsense, Adrien, I shall be quite +all right. Only," she added, clasping her hands, "let me know when +you can." + +When the ambulance arrived at the Maitland home, Adrien was at the +door. All was in readiness--hot water, bandages, and everything +needful to the doctor's hand. + +McNish carried Annette up to the room prepared for her, laid her +down and stood in dumb grief looking down upon her. + +Adrien touched him on the arm. + +"Come," she said. And, taking his arm, led him downstairs. "Stay +here," she said. "I will bring you word as soon as possible." + +An hour later she returned, and found him sitting in the exact +position in which she had left him. He apparently had not moved +hand or foot. At her entrance he looked up, eager, voiceless. + +"She is resting," said Adrien. "The bullet is extracted. It had +gone quite through to the outer skin--a clean wound." + +"How long," said McNish, passing his tongue over his dry lips, "how +long does the doctor say--" + +"The doctor says nothing. She asked for you." + +McNish started up and went toward the door. + +"But you cannot go to her now." + +"She asked for me?" said McNish. + +"Yes. But she must be kept quite quiet. The very least excitement +might hurt her." + +"Hurt her?" said McNish, and sat down quietly. + +After a moment's silence, he said: + +"You will let me see her--once more--before she--she--" He paused, +his lips quivering, his great blue eyes pitifully beseeching her. + +"Mr. McNish," said Adrien, "she may not die." + +"Ma God!" he whispered, falling on his knees and catching her hand +in both of his. "Ma God! Dinna lee tae me." + +"Believe me, I would not," said Adrien, while the great eyes seemed +to drag the truth from her very soul. "The doctor says nothing, +but I have seen many cases of bullet wounds, and I have hope." + +"Hope," he whispered. "Hope! Ma God! hope!" His hands went to +his face and his great frame shook with silent sobbing. + +"But you must be very quiet and steady." + +Immediately he was on his feet and standing like a soldier at +attention. + +"Ay, A wull," he whispered eagerly. "Tell me what tae do?" + +"First of all," said Adrien, "we must have something to eat." + +A shudder passed through him. "Eat?" he said, as if he had never +heard the word. + +"Yes," said Adrien. "Remember, you promised." + +"Ay. A'll eat." Like a man under a mesmeric spell, he went +through the motions of eating. His mind was far away, his eyes +eager, alert, forever upon her face. + +When they had finished their meal, Adrien said: + +"Now, Mr. McNish, is there anything I can do for you?" + +"A would like to send word to ma mither," he said. "She disna ken +onything--aboot--aboot Annette--aboot Annette an' me," a faint +touch of red coming slowly up in his grey face. + +"I shall get word to her. I know the very man. I shall phone the +Reverend Murdo Matheson." + +"Ay," said McNish, "he is the man." + +"Now, then," said Adrien, placing him in an easy chair, "you must +rest there. Remember, I am keeping watch." + +With the promise that he would do his best to rest, she left him +sitting bolt upright in his chair. + +Toward morning, Maitland appeared, weary and haggard. Adrien +greeted him with tender solicitude; it was almost maternal in its +tone. + +"Oh, Adrien," said Maitland, with a great sight of relief, "you +don't know how good it is to see you here. It bucks one +tremendously to feel that you are on this job." + +"I shall get you some breakfast immediately," she answered in a +calm, matter-of-fact voice. "You are done out. Your father has +come in and has gone to lie down. McNish is in the library." + +"And Annette?" said Maitland. He was biting his lips to keep them +from quivering. "Is she still--" + +"She is resting. The maid is watching beside her. Dear Jack," she +uttered with a quick rush of sympathy, "I know how hard this is for +you. But I am not without hope for Annette." + +A quick light leaped into his eyes. "Hope, did you say? Oh, thank +the good Lord." His voice broke and he turned away from her. +"You know," he said, coming back, "she gave her life for me. Oh, +Adrien, think of it! She threw herself in the way of death for me. +She covered me with her own body." He sat down suddenly as if +almost in collapse, and buried his head in his arms, struggling for +control. + +Adrien went to him and put her arm round his shoulder--she might +have been his mother. "Dear Jack," she said, "it was a wonderful +thing she did. God will surely spare her to you." + +He rose wearily from his chair and put his arms around her. + +"Oh, Adrien," he said, "it is good to have you here. I do need, we +all need you so." + +Gently she put his arms away from her. "And now," she said +briskly, "I am going to take charge of you, Jack, of you all, and +you must obey orders." + +"Only give me a chance to do anything for you," he said, "or for +anyone you care for." + +There was a puzzled expression on Adrien's face as she turned away. +But she asked no explanation. + +"My first order, then," she said, "is this: you must have your +breakfast and then go to bed for an hour or two." + +"I shall be glad to breakfast, but I have a lot of things to do." + +"Can't they wait? And won't you do them better after a good +sleep?" + +"Some of them can't wait," he replied. "I have just got Tony to +bed. The doctor has sent him to sleep. His father and mother are +watching him. Oh, Adrien, that is a sad home. It was a terrible +experience for me. Tony I must see when he wakes and the poor old +father and mother will be over here early. I must be ready for +them." + +"Very well, Jack," said Adrien in a prompt, businesslike tone. +"You have two clear hours for sleep. You must sleep for the sake +of others, you understand. I promise to wake you in good time." + +"And what about yourself, Adrien?" + +"Oh, this is my job," she said lightly. "I shall be relieved in +the afternoon, the doctor has promised." + +When the Employers' Defence Committee met next morning there were +many haggard faces among its members. In the large hall outside +the committee room a considerable number of citizens, young and +old, had gathered and with them the Mayor, conversing in voices +tinged with various emotions, anxiety, pity, wrath, according to +the temper and disposition of each. + +In the committee room Mr. Farrington was in the chair. No sooner +had the meeting been called to order than Mr. Maitland arose, and, +speaking under deep but controlled feeling, he said: + +"Gentlemen, I felt sure none of us would wish to transact ordinary +business this morning. I was sure, too, that in the very +distressing circumstances under which we meet you would feel as I +do the need of guidance and help. I therefore took the liberty of +inviting the deputation from the Ministerial Association which +waited on us the other day to join us in our deliberation. Mr. +Haynes is away from town, but Dr. Templeton and Mr. Matheson have +kindly consented to be present. They will be here in half an +hour's time." + +A general and hearty approval of his action was expressed, after +which the Chairman invited suggestions as to the course to be +pursued. But no one was ready with a suggestion. Somehow the +outlook upon life was different this morning, and readjustment of +vision appeared to be necessary. No man felt himself qualified to +offer advice. + +From this dilemma they were relieved by a knock upon the door and +the Mayor appeared. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I have no wish to intrude, but a great many +of our citizens are in the larger hall. They are anxious to be +advised upon the present trying situation. It has been suggested +that your committee might join with us in a general public +meeting." + +After a few moments' consideration, the Mayor's proposition was +accepted and the committee adjourned to the larger hall, Mr. +Farrington resigning the chair to His Worship, the Mayor. + +The Mayor's tongue was not so ready this morning. He explained the +circumstances of the meeting and thanked the committee for yielding +to his request. He was ready to receive any suggestions as to what +the next step should be. + +The silence which followed was broken by Mr. McGinnis, who arose +and, in a voice much shaken, he inquired: + +"Can anyone tell us just what is the last word concerning the young +girl this morning?" + +Mr. Maitland replied: "Before I left the house, the last report +was that she was resting quietly and, while the doctor was not able +to offer any hope of her recovery, he ventured to say that he did +not quite despair. And that from Dr. Meredith, as we know, means +something." + +"Thank God for that," said McGinnis, and leaning his head upon his +hand, he sat with his eyes fixed upon the floor. + +Again the Mayor asked for suggestions, but no one in the audience +appeared willing to assume the responsibility of offering guidance. + +At length Rupert Stillwell arose. He apologised for speaking in +the presence of older men, but something had to be done and he +ventured to offer one suggestion at least. + +"It occurs to me," he said, "that one thing at least should be +immediately done. Those responsible for the disgraceful riot of +last evening, and I mean more than the actual ringleaders in the +affair, should be brought to justice." He proceeded to elaborate +upon the enormity of the crime, the danger to the State of mob +rule, the necessity for stern measures to prevent the recurrence of +such disorders. He suggested a special citizens' committee for the +preservation of public order. + +His words appeared to meet the approval of a large number of those +present, especially of the younger men. + +While he was speaking, the audience appeared to be greatly relieved +to see Dr. Templeton and the Reverend Murdo Matheson walk in and +quietly take their seats. They remembered, many of them, how at a +recent similar gathering these gentlemen had advised a procedure +which, if followed, would have undoubtedly prevented the disasters +of the previous night. + +Giving a brief account of the proceedings of the meeting to the +present point, the Mayor suggested that Dr. Templeton might offer +them a word of advice. + +Courteously thanking the Mayor for his invitation, the Doctor said: + +"As I came in this room, I caught the words of my young friend, who +suggested a committee for the preservation of public order. May I +suggested that the preservation of public order in the community is +something that can be entrusted to no committee? It rests with the +whole community. We have all made mistakes, we are constantly +making mistakes. We have yielded to passion, and always to our +sorrow and hurt. We have vainly imagined that by the exercise of +force we can settle strife. No question of right or justice is +settled by fighting, for, after the fighting is done, the matter in +dispute remains to be settled. We have tried that way and to-day +we are fronted with disastrous failure. I have come from a home +over which the shadow of death hangs low. There a father and +mother lie prostrate with sorrow, agonising for the life of their +child. But a deeper shadow lies there, a shadow of sin, for the +sting of death is sin. A brother torn with self-condemnation, his +heart broken with grief for his sister, who loved him better than +her own life, lies under that shadow of sin. But, gentlemen, can +any of us escape from that shadow? Do we not all share in that +sin? For we all have a part in the determining of our environment. +Can we not, by God's grace, lift that shadow at least from our +lives? Let us turn our faces from the path of strife toward the +path of peace, for the pathway of right doing and of brotherly +kindness is the only path to peace in this world." + +The Chairman then called upon the Reverend Murdo Matheson to +express his mind. But at this point, the whole audience were +galvanised into an intensity of confused emotion by the entrance of +the Executive of the Allied Unions, led by McNish himself. Simmons +alone was absent, being at that moment, with some half dozen +others, in the care of the police. Silently the Executive +Committee walked to the front and found seats, McNish alone +remaining standing. Grey, gaunt, hollow-eyed, he met with steady +gaze the eyes of the audience, some of them aflame with hostile +wrath, for in him they recognised the responsible head of the +labour movement that had wrought such disaster and grief in the +community. + +Without apology or preface McNish began: "I am here seeking +peace," he said, in his hoarse, hard, guttural voice. "I have made +mistakes. Would I could suffer for them alone, but no, others must +suffer with me. I have only condemnation for the outrages of last +night. We repudiate them, we lament them. We tried to prevent +them, but human passion and circumstances were too strong for us. +We would undo the ill--would to God could undo the ill. How gladly +would I suffer all that has come to others." His deep, harsh voice +shook under the stress of his emotion. He lifted his head: "I +cannot deny my cause," he continued, his voice ringing out clear. +"Our cause was right, but the spirit was wrong." He paused a few +moments, evidently gathering strength to hold his voice steady. +"Yes, the spirit was wrong and this day is a black day to me. We +come to ask for peace. God knows I have no heart for war." + +Again he paused, his strong stern face working strangely under the +stress of the emotions which he was fighting to subdue. "We +suggest a committee of three, with powers to arbitrate, and we name +as our man one who till recently was one of our Union, a man of +fair and honest mind, a man without fear and with a heart for his +comrades. Our man is Captain Maitland." + +His words, and especially the name of the representative of the +labour unions produced an overwhelming effect upon the audience. +No sooner had he finished than the Reverend Murdo Matheson took the +floor. He spoke no economics. He offered no elaborate argument +for peace. In plain, simple words he told of experiences through +which he had recently passed: + +"Like one whom I feel it an honour to call my father," he began, +bowing toward Dr. Templeton, "I, too, have made a visit this +morning. Not to a home, but to a place the most unlike a home of +any spot in this sad world, a jail. Seven of our fellow-citizens +are confined there, six of them boys, mere boys, dazed and +penetrated with sorrow for their folly--they meant no crime--I am +not relieving them of the blame--the other, a man, embittered with +a long, hard fight against poverty, injustice and cruel +circumstance in another land, with distorted views of life, crazed +by drink, committed a crime which this morning fills him with +horror and grief. Late last night I was sent to the home of one of +my people. There I found an aged lady, carrying with a brave heart +the sorrows and burdens of nearly seventy years, waiting in anxiety +and grief and fear for her son, who was keeping vigil at what may +well be the deathbed of the girl he loves. You have just heard his +plea for peace. Some of you are inclined to lay the blame for the +ills that have fallen upon us upon certain classes and individuals +in this community. They have their blame and they must bear the +responsibility. But, gentlemen, a juster estimate of the causes of +these ills will convince us that they are the product of our +civilisation and for these things we must all accept our share of +responsibility. More, we must seek to remove them from among us. +They are an affront to our intelligence, an insult to our holy +religion, an outrage upon the love of our brother man and our +Father, God. Let us humbly, resolutely seek the better way, the +way we have set before us this morning, the way of right doing, of +brotherly kindness and of brotherly love which is the way of +peace." + +It was a subdued company of men that listened to his appeal. In +silence they sat looking straight before them with faces grave and +frowning, as is the way with men of our race when deeply stirred. + +It was a morning of dramatic surprises, but none were so startling, +none so dramatic as the speech of McGinnis that followed. + +"This is a day for confessions," he said, "and I am here to make +one for myself. I have been a fighter, too much of a fighter, all +my life, and I have often suffered for it. I suffered a heavy loss +last night and to-day I am sick of fighting. But I have found +this: that you can't fight men in this world without fighting women +and children, too. God knows I have no war with the old, grey- +haired lady the Padre has just told us about. I have no war with +that broken-hearted father and mother. And I have no war with +Annette Perrotte, dear girl, God preserve her." At this point, +McGinnis's command quite forsook him. His voice utterly broke +down, while the tears ran down his rugged fighting face. "I am +done with fighting," he cried. "They have named Captain Maitland. +We know him for a straight man and a white man. Let me talk with +Captain Jack Maitland, and let us get together with the Padre +there," pointing to the Reverend Murdo Matheson, "and in an hour we +will settle this matter." + +In a tumult of approval the suggestion was accepted. It was +considered a perfectly fitting thing, though afterwards men spoke +of it with something of wonder, that the Mayor should have called +upon the Reverend Doctor to close the meeting with prayer, and that +he should do so without making a speech. + +That same afternoon the three men met to consider the matter +submitted to them. Captain Jack Maitland laid before the committee +his figures and his charts setting forth the facts in regard to the +cost of living and the wage scale during the past five years. In +less than an hour they had agreed upon a settlement. There was to +be an increase of wages in keeping with the rise of the cost of +living, with the pledge that the wage scale should follow the curb +of the cost of living should any change occur within the year. The +hours of labour were shortened from ten to nine for a day's work, +with the pledge that they should be governed by the effect of the +change upon production and general conditions. And further, that a +Committee of Reference should be appointed for each shop and craft, +to which all differences should be submitted. To this committee +also were referred the other demands by the Allied Unions. + +It was a simple solution of the difficulty and upon its submission +to the public meeting called for its consideration, it was felt +that the comment of the irrepressible Victor Forsythe was not +entirely unfitting: + +"Of course!" said Victor, cheerfully. "It is the only thing. Why +didn't the Johnnies think of it before, or why didn't they ask me?" + +The committee, however, did more than settle the dispute immediately +before them. They laid before the public meeting and obtained its +approval for the creation of a General Board of Industry, under +whose guidance the whole question of the industrial life of the +community should be submitted to intelligent study and control. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +SHALL BE GIVEN + + +For one long week of seven long days and seven long nights Annette +fought out her gallant fight for life, fought and won. Throughout +the week at her side Adrien waited day and night, except for a few +hours snatched for rest, when Patricia took her place, for there +was not a nurse to be had in all that time and Patricia begged for +the privilege of sharing her vigil with her. + +Every day and in the darkest days all day long, it seemed to +Adrien, McNish haunted the Maitland home--for he had abandoned all +pretence of work--his gaunt, grey face and hollow eyes imploring a +word of hope. + +But it was chiefly to Jack throughout that week that Adrien's heart +went out in compassionate pity, for in his face there dwelt a +misery so complete, so voiceless that no comfort of hers appeared +to be able to bring relief. Often through those days did Annette +ask to see him, but the old doctor was relentless. There must be +absolute quiet and utter absence of all excitement. No visitors +were to be permitted, especially no men visitors. + +But the day came when the ban was lifted and with smiling face, +Adrien came for Jack. + +"You have been such a good boy," she cried gaily, "that I am going +to give you a great treat. You are to come in with me." + +With face all alight Jack followed her into the sick room. + +"Here he is, Annette," cried Adrien. "Now, remember, no fussing, +no excitement, and just one quarter of an hour--or perhaps a little +longer," she added. + +For a moment or two Jack stood looking at the girl lying upon the +bed. + +"Oh, Annette, my dear, dear girl," he cried in a breaking voice as +he knelt down by her side and took her hand in his. + +So much reached Adrien's ears as she closed the door and passed to +her room with step weary and lifeless. + +"Why, Adrien," cried her sister, who was waiting to relieve her, +"you are like a ghost! You poor dear. You are horribly done out." + +"I believe I am, Patricia," said Adrien. "I believe I shall rest +awhile." She lay down on the bed, her face turned toward the wall, +and so remained till Patricia went softly away, leaving her, as she +thought, to sleep. + +Downstairs Patricia found Victor Forsythe awaiting her. + +"Poor Adrien is really used up," she said. "She has a deathly look +in her face. Just the same look as she had that night of the +hockey match. Do you remember?" + +"The night of the hockey dance? Do I remember? A ghastly night--a +horrid night--a night of unspeakable wretchedness." + +As Vic was speaking, Patricia kept her eyes steadily upon him with +a pondering, puzzled look. + +"What is it, Patricia? I know you want to ask me something. Is it +about that night?" + +"I wonder if you would really mind very much, Vic, if I asked you?" + +"Not in the very least. I shall doubtless enjoy it after it's out. +Painless dentistry effect. Go to it, Patsy." + +"It is very serious, Vic. I always think people in books are so +stupid. They come near to the truth and then just miss getting +it." + +"The truth. Ah! Go on, Pat." + +"Well, Vic," said Patricia with an air of one taking a desperate +venture, "why did you not give Adrien her note that night? It +would have saved her and me such pain. I cried all night long. I +had so counted on a dance with Jack--and then never a word from +him. But he did send a note. He told me so. I never told Adrien +that, for she forbade me, oh, so terribly, never to speak of it +again. Why didn't you give her or me the note, Vic?" Patricia's +voice was very pathetic and her eyes very gentle but very piercing. + +All the laughter died out of Victor's face. "Pat, I lied to you +once, only once, and that lie has cost me many an hour's misery. +But now I shall tell you the truth and the whole truth." And he +proceeded to recount the tribulations which he endured on the night +of the hockey dance. "I did it to help you both out, Pat. I +thought I could make it easy for you. It was all a sheer guess, +but it turned out to be pretty well right." + +Patricia nodded her head. "But you received no note?" + +"Not a scrap, Patricia, so help me. Not a scrap. Patricia, you +believe me?" + +The girl looked straight into Vic's honest eyes. "Yes, Vic," she +said, "I believe you. But Jack sent a note." + +Vic sprang to his feet. "Good-bye, Watson. You shall hear from me +within an hour." + +"Whatever do you mean? Where are you going?" + +"Dear lady, ask no questions. I am about to Sherlock. Farewell." + +At the door he overtook Jack. "Aha! The first link in the chain. +Hello, old chap, a word with you. May I get into your car?" + +"Certainly. Get in." + +"Now then, about that note. Nothing like diplomacy. The night of +the hockey dance you sent a note to a lady?" + +Jack glanced at him in amazement. + +"Don't be an ass, Vic. I don't feel like that stuff just now." + +"This is serious. Did you send a note by me that night of the +hockey dance?" + +"By you? No. Who said I did?" + +"Aha! The mystery deepens. By whom? Nothing like finesse." + +"It is none of your business," said Jack crossly. + +"Check," cried Vic. + +"What are you talking about, anyway?" inquired Jack. + +"A note was sent by you," said Vic impressively, "through some +agency at present unknown. So far, so good." + +"Unknown? What rubbish. I sent a note by Sam Wigglesworth, who +gave it to some of you for Adrien. What about it?" + +As they approached the entrance to the Maitland Mills Vic saw a +stream of employees issue from the gate. + +"Nothing more at present," he said. "This is my corner. Let me +out. I am in an awful hurry, Jack." + +"Will you tell me, please, what all this means?" said Jack angrily. + +"Sorry, old chap. Awfully hurried just now. See you later." + +"You are a vast idiot," grumbled Jack, as Vic ran down the street. + +He took his place at the corner which commanded the entrance to the +Maitland works. "Here I shall wait, abstractedly gazing at the +passers-by, until the unhappy Sam makes his appearance," mused Vic +to himself. "And by the powers, here Sam is now." + +From among the employees as they poured from the gate Victor +pounced upon his victim and bore him away down a side street. + +"Sam," he said, "it may be you are about to die, so tell me the +truth. I hate to take your young life." Sam grinned at his +captor, unafraid. "Cast your mind back to the occasion of the +hockey dance. You remember that?" + +"You bet I do, Mister. I made a dollar that night." + +"Ah! A dollar. Yes, you did, for delivering a note given you by +Captain Jack Maitland," hissed Vic, gripping his arm. + +"Huh-huh," said Sam. "Look out, Mister, that's me." + +"Villain!" cried Vic. "Boy, I mean. Now, Sam, did you deliver +that note?" + +"Of course I did. Didn't Captain Jack give me a dollar for it? I +didn't want his dollar." + +"The last question, Sam," said Vic solemnly, "to whom did you +deliver the note?" + +"To that chap, the son of the storekeeper." + +"Rupert Stillwell?" suggested Vic. + +"Huh-huh, that's his name. That's him now," cried Sam. "In that +Hudson car--see--there--quick!" + +"Boy," said Vic solemnly, "you have saved your life. Here's a +dollar. Now, remember, not a word about this." + +"All right, sir," grinned Sam delightedly, as he made off down the +street. + +"Now then, what?" said Vic to himself. "This thing has got past +the joke stage. I must do some thinking. Shall I tell Pat or not? +By Jove, by Jove, that's not the question. When that young lady +gets those big eyes of hers on me the truth will flow in a limpid +stream. I must make sure of my ground. Meantime I shall do the +Kamerad act." + +That afternoon Annette had another visitor. Her nurse, though +somewhat dubious as to the wisdom of this indulgence, could not +bring herself to refuse her request that McNish should be allowed +to see her. + +"But you must be tired. Didn't Jack tire you?" inquired Adrien. + +A soft and tender light stole into the girl's dark eyes. + +"Ah, Jack. He could not tire me," she murmured. "He makes so much +of what I did. How gladly would I do it again. Jack is wonderful +to me. Wonderful to me," she repeated softly. Her lip trembled +and she lay back upon her pillow and from her closed eyes two tears +ran down her cheek. + +"Now," said Adrien briskly, "you are too tired. We shall wait till +to-morrow." + +"No, no, please," cried Annette. "Jack didn't tire me. He +comforts me." + +"But Malcolm will tire you," said Adrien. "Do you really want to +see him?" + +A faint colour came up into the beautiful face of her patient. + +"Yes, Adrien, I really want to see him. I am sure he will do me +good. You will let him come, please?" The dark eyes were shining +with another light, more wistful, more tender. + +"Is he here, Adrien?" + +"Is he here?" echoed Adrien scornfully. "Has he been anywhere else +the last seven days?" + +"Poor Malcolm," said the girl, the tenderness in her voice becoming +protective. "I have been very bad to him, and he loves me so. Oh, +he is just mad about me!" A little smile stole round the corners +of her mouth. + +"Oh, you needn't tell me that, Annette," said Adrien. "It is easy +for you to make men mad about you." + +"Not many," said the girl, still softly smiling. + +McNish went toward the door of the sick room as if approaching a +holy shrine, walking softly and reverently. + +"Go in, lucky man," said Adrien. "Go in, and thank God for your +good fortune." + +He paused at the door, turned about and looked at her with grave +eyes. "Miss Templeton," he said in slow, reverent tones, "all my +life shall I thank God for His great mercy tae me." + +"Don't keep her waiting, man," said Adrien, waving him in. Then +McNish went in and she closed the door softly upon them. + +"There are only a few great moments given to men," she said, "and +this is one of them for those two happy people." + +In ten days Annette was pronounced quite fit to return to her +family. But Patricia resolved that they should have a grand fete +in the Maitland home before Annette should leave it. She planned a +motor drive in the cool of the day, and in the evening all their +special friends who had been brought together through the tragic +events of the past weeks should come to bring congratulations and +mutual felicitations for the recovery of the patient. + +Patricia was arranging the guest list, in collaboration with Mr. +Maitland and the assistance of Annette and Victor. + +"We will have our boys, of course," she began. + +"Old and young, I hope?" suggested Mr. Maitland. + +"Of course!" she cried. "Although I don't know any old ones. That +will mean all the fathers and Vic, Jack, Hugh and Rupert, and +Malcolm--" + +"Ah! It has come to Malcolm, then?" murmured Vic. "Certainly, why +not? He loves me to call him Malcolm. And then we will have Mr. +Matheson. And we must have Mr. McGinnis--they have become such +great friends. And I should like to have the Mayor, he is so +funny. But perhaps he wouldn't fit. He DOES take up a lot of +attention." + +"Cut him out!" said Victor with decision. + +"And for ladies," continued Patricia, "just the relatives--all the +mothers and the sisters. That's enough." + +"How lovely!" murmured Vic. + +"Oh, if you want any other ladies, Vic," said Patricia severely, +"we shall be delighted to invite them for you." + +"Me? Other ladies? What could I do with other ladies? Is not my +young life one long problem as it is? Ah! Speaking of problems, +that reminds me. I have a communication to make to you young +lady." Vic's manner suggested a profound and deadly mystery. He +led Patricia away from the others. "I have something to tell you, +Patricia," he said, abandoning all badinage. "I hate to do it but +it is right for you, for myself, for Adrien, and by Jove for poor +old Jack, too. Though, perhaps--well, let that go." + +"Oh, Vic!" cried Patricia. "It is about the note!" + +"Yes, Patricia. That note was given by Jack to Sam Wigglesworth, +who gave it to Rupert Stillwell." + +"And he forgot?" gasped Patricia. + +"Ah--ah--at least, he didn't deliver it. No, Patricia, we are +telling the whole truth. He didn't forget. You remember he asked +about Jack. There, I have given you all I know. Make of it what +you like." + +"Shall I tell Adrien?" asked Patricia. + +"I think certainly Adrien ought to know." + +"Then I'll tell her to-night," said Patricia. "I want it all over +before our fete, which is day after to-morrow." + +Rupert Stillwell had been in almost daily attendance upon Adrien +during the past two weeks, calling for her almost every afternoon +with his car. The day following he came for her according to his +custom. Upon Adrien's face there dwelt a gentle, tender, happy +look as if her heart were singing for very joy. That look upon her +face drove from Rupert all the hesitation and fear which had fallen +upon him during these days of her ministry to the wounded girl. He +took a sudden and desperate resolve that he would put his fate to +the test. + +Adrien's answer was short and decisive. + +"No, Rupert," she said. "I cannot. I thought for a little while, +long ago, that perhaps I might, but now I know that I never could +have loved you." + +"You were thinking of that note of Jack Maitland's which I sent you +last night?" + +"Oh, no," she said gently. "Not that." + +"I felt awfully mean about that, Adrien. I feel mean still. I +thought that as you had learned all about it from Victor, it was of +no importance." + +"Yes," she replied gently, "but I was the best judge of that." + +"Adrien, tell me," Rupert's voice shook with the intensity of his +passion, "is there no hope?" + +"No," she said, "there is no hope, Rupert." + +"There is someone else," he said, savagely. + +"Yes," she said, happily, "I think so." + +"Someone," continued Rupert, his voice trembling with rage, +"someone who distributes his affections." + +"No," she said, a happy smile in her eyes, "I think not." + +"You love him?" he asked. + +"Oh, yes," she whispered, with a little catch in her breath, "I +love him." + +At the door on their return Jack met them. A shadow fell upon his +face, but with a quick resolve, he shouted a loud welcome to them. + +"Hello, Adrien," he cried, as she came running up the steps. "You +apparently have had a lovely drive." + +"Oh, wonderful, Jack. A wonderful drive," she replied. + +"Yes, you do look happy." + +"Oh, so happy. I was never so happy." + +"Then," said Jack, dropping his voice, "may I congratulate you?" + +"Yes, I think so," she said. "I hope so." And then laughed aloud +for very glee. + +Jack turned from her with a quick sharp movement, went down the +steps and offering his hand to Rupert, said: + +"Good luck, old chap. I wish you good luck." + +"Eh? What? Oh, all right," said Rupert in a dazed sort of way. +But he didn't come into the house. + +Never was there such a day in June, never such a fete. The park +never looked so lovely and never a party so gay disported +themselves in it and gayest of them all was Adrien. All day long +it seemed as if her very soul were laughing for joy. And all day +long she kept close beside Jack, chaffing him, laughing at him, +rallying him on his solemn face and driving him half-mad with her +gay witchery. + +Then home they all came to supper, where waited them McNish and his +mother with Mr. McGinnis, for they had been unable to join in the +motor drive. + +"Ma certie, lassie! But ye're a sight for sare een. What hae ye +bin daein tae her, Mr. Jack," said Mrs. McNish, as she welcomed +them at the door. + +"The Lord only knows," said Jack. + +"But, man, look at her!" exclaimed the old lady. + +"I have been, all day long," replied Jack with a gallant attempt at +gaiety. + +"Oh, Mrs. McNish," cried the girl, rippling with joyous laughter, +"he won't even look at me. He just--what do you say--glowers, +that's it--glowers at me. And we have had such a wonderful day. +Come, Jack, get yourself ready for supper. You have only a few +minutes." + +She caught her arm through his and laughing shamelessly into his +eyes, drew him away. + +"I say, Adrien," said Jack, driven finally to desperation and +drawing her into the quiet of the library, "I am awfully glad you +are so happy and all that, but I don't see the necessity of rubbing +it into a fellow. You know how I feel. I am glad for you and--I +am glad for Rupert. Or, at least I told him so." + +"But, Jack," said the girl, her eyes burning with a deep inner +glow, "Rupert has nothing to do with it. Rupert, indeed," and she +laughed scornfully. "Oh, Jack, why can't you see?" + +"See what?" he said crossly. + +"Jack," she said softly, turning toward him and standing very near +him, "you remember the note you sent me?" + +"Note?" + +"The note you sent the night of the hockey dance?" + +"Yes," said Jack bitterly, "I remember." + +"And you remember, too, how horrid I was to you the next time I saw +you? How horrid? Oh, Jack, it broke my heart." Her voice +faltered a moment and her shining eyes grew dim. "I was so horrid +to you." + +"Oh, no," said Jack coolly, "you were kind. You were very kind and +sisterly, as I remember." + +"Jack," she said and her breath began to come hurriedly, "I got +that note yesterday. Only yesterday, Jack." + +"Yesterday?" + +"Yes, only yesterday. And I read it, Jack," she added with a happy +laugh. "And in that note, Jack, you said--do you remember--" + +But Jack stood gazing stupidly at her. She pulled the note from +her bosom. + +"Oh, Jack, you said--" + +Still Jack gazed at her. + +"Jack, you will kill me. Won't you hurry? Oh, I can't wait a +moment longer. You said you were going to tell me something, +Jack." She stood radiant, breathless and madly alluring. "And oh, +Jack, won't you tell me?" + +"Adrien," said Jack, his voice husky and uncontrolled. "Do you +mean that you--" + +"Oh, Jack, tell me quick," she said, swaying toward him. And while +she clung to him taking his kisses on her lips, Jack told her. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext of To Him That Hath, by Ralph Connor. + diff --git a/old/ththt10.zip b/old/ththt10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1621293 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ththt10.zip |