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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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