The men were a little startled. They looked at one another, and the man on Murphy"s left whispered something. Bannon sat still, watching them.
Then Grady came to himself. He wheeled around to face the committee, and threw out one arm in a wide gesture.
"I demand to know what this means! I demand to know if there is a law in this land! Is an honest man, the representative of the hand of labor, to be attacked by hired ruffians? Is he to be slandered by the tyrant who drives you at the point of the pistol? And you not men enough to defend your rights--the rights held by every American--the rights granted by the Const.i.tution! But it ain"t for myself I would talk. It ain"t my own injuries that I suffer for. Your liberty hangs in the balance. This man has dared to interfere in the integrity of your lodge. Have you no words----"
Bannon arose, caught Grady"s arm, and whirled him around.
"Grady," he said, "shut up."
The delegate tried to jerk away, but he could not shake off that grip.
He looked toward the committeemen, but they were silent. He looked everywhere but up into the eyes that were blazing down at him. And finally Bannon felt the muscles within his grip relax.
"I"ll tell you what I want you to do," said Bannon to the committeemen.
"I want you to elect a new delegate. Don"t talk about interference--I don"t care how you elect him, or who he is, if he comes to me squarely."
Grady was wriggling again.
"This means a strike!" he shouted. "This means the biggest strike the West has ever seen! You won"t get men for love or money----"
Bannon gave the arm a wrench, and broke in:--
"I"m sick of this. I laid this matter before President Carver. I have his word that if you hang on to this man after he"s been proved a blackmailer, your lodge can be dropped from the Federation. If you try to strike, you won"t hurt anybody but yourselves. That"s all. You can go."
"Wait----" Grady began, but they filed out without looking at him.
James, as he followed them, nodded, and said, "Good night, Mr. Bannon."
Then for the last time Bannon led Grady away. Peterson started forward, but the boss shook his head, and went out, marching the delegate between the lumber piles to the point where the path crossed the Belt Line tracks.
"Now, Mr. Grady," he said, "this is where our ground stops. The other sides are the road there, and the river, and the last piles of cribbing at the other end. I"m telling you so you will know where you don"t belong. Now, get out!"
CHAPTER XIV
The effect of the victory was felt everywhere. Not only were Max and Pete and Hilda jubilant over it, but the under-foremen, the timekeepers, even the laborers attacked their work with a fresher energy. It was like the first whiff of salt air to an army marching to the sea. Since the day when the cribbing came down from Ledyard, the work had gone forward with almost incredible rapidity; there had been no faltering during the weeks when Grady"s threatened catastrophe was imminent, but now that the big shadow of the little delegate was dispelled, it was easier to see that the huge warehouse was almost finished. There was still much to do, and the handful of days that remained seemed absurdly inadequate; but it needed only a glance at what Charlie Bannon"s tireless, driving energy had already accomplished to make the rest look easy. "We"re sure of it now. She"ll be full to the roof before the year is out." As Max went over the job with his time-book next morning, he said it to every man he met, and they all believed him. Peterson, the same man and not the same man either, who had once vowed that there wouldn"t be any night work on Calumet K, who had bent a pair of most unwilling shoulders to the work Bannon had put upon them, who had once spent long, sulky afternoons in the barren little room of his new boarding-house; Peterson held himself down in bed exactly three hours the morning after that famous victory.
Before eleven o"clock he was sledging down a tottering timber at the summit of the marine tower, a hundred and forty feet sheer above the wharf. Just before noon he came into the office and found Hilda there alone.
He had stopped outside the door to put on his coat, but had not b.u.t.toned it; his shirt, wet as though he had been in the lake, clung to him and revealed the outline of every muscle in his great trunk. He flung his hat on the draughting-table, and his yellow hair seemed crisper and curlier than ever before.
"Well, it looks as though we was all right," he said.
Hilda nodded emphatically. "You think we"ll get through in time, don"t you, Mr. Peterson?"
"Think!" he exclaimed. "I don"t have to stop to think. Here comes Max; just ask him."
Max slammed the door behind him, brought down the timekeeper"s book on Hilda"s desk with a slap that made her jump, and vaulted to a seat on the railing. "Well, I guess it"s a case of hurrah for us, ain"t it, Pete?"
"Your sister asked me if I thought we"d get done on time. I was just saying it"s a sure thing."
"I don"t know," said Max, laughing. "I guess an earthquake could stop us. But why ain"t you abed, Pete?"
"What do I want to be abed for? I ain"t going to sleep any more this year--unless we get through a day or two ahead of time. I don"t like to miss any of it. Charlie Bannon may have hustled before, but I guess this breaks his record. Where is he now, Max?"
"Down in the cellar putting in the running gear for the "cross-the-house conveyors. He has his nerve with him. He"s putting in three drives entirely different from the way they are in the plans. He told me just now that there wasn"t a man in the office who could design a drive that wouldn"t tie itself up in square knots in the first ten minutes. I wonder what old MacBride"ll say when he sees that he"s changed the plans."
"If MacBride has good sense, he"ll pa.s.s anything that Charlie puts up,"
said Pete.
He was going to say more, but just then Bannon strode into the office and over to the draughting table. He tossed Pete"s hat to one side and began studying a detail of the machinery plans.
"Max." He spoke without looking up. "I wish you"d find a water boy and send him up to the hotel to get a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of coffee."
"Well, that"s a nice way to celebrate, I must say," Pete commented.
"Celebrate what?"
"Why, last night; throwing Grady down. You ought to take a day off on the strength of that."
"What"s Grady got to do with it? He ain"t in the specifications."
"No," said Pete, slowly; "but where would we have been if he"d got the men off?"
"Where would we have been if the house had burned up?" Bannon retorted, turning away from the table. "That"s got nothing to do with it. I haven"t felt less like taking a day off since I came on the job. We may get through on time and we may not. If we get tangled up in the plans like this, very often, I don"t know how we"ll come out. But the surest way to get left is to begin now telling ourselves that this is easy and it"s a cinch. That kind of talk makes me tired."
Pete flushed, started an explanatory sentence, and another, and then, very uncomfortable, went out.
Bannon did not look up; he went on studying the blue print, measuring here and there with his three-sided ruler and jotting down incomprehensible operations in arithmetic on a sc.r.a.p of paper. Max was figuring tables in his time-book, Hilda poring over the cash account.
For half an hour no one spoke. Max crammed his cap down over his ears and went out, and there were ten minutes more of silence. Then Bannon began talking. He still busied his fingers with the blue print, and Hilda, after discovering that he was talking to himself rather than to her, went on with her work. But nevertheless she heard, in a fragmentary way, what he was saying.
"Take a day off--schoolboy trick--enough to make a man tired. Might as well do it, though. We ain"t going to get through. The office ought to do a little work once in a while just to see what it"s like. They think a man can do anything. I"d like to know why I ain"t ent.i.tled to a night"s sleep as well as MacBride. But he don"t think so. After he"d worked me twenty-four hours a day up to Duluth, and I lost thirty-two pounds up there, he sends me down to a mess like this. With a lot of drawings that look as though they were made by a college boy. Where does he expect "em to pile their car doors, I"d like to know."
That was the vein of it, though the monologue ran on much longer. But at last he swung impatiently around and addressed Hilda. "I"m ready to throw up my hands. I think I"ll go back to Minneapolis and tell MacBride I"ve had enough. He can come down here and finish the house himself."
"Do you think he would get it done in time?" Hilda"s eyes were laughing at him, but she kept them on her work.
"Oh, yes," he said wearily. "He"d get the grain into her somehow. You couldn"t stump MacBride with anything. That"s why he makes it so warm for us."
"Do you think," she asked very demurely, indeed, "that if Mr. MacBride had been here he could have built it any faster than--than we have, so far?"
"I don"t believe it," said Bannon, unwarily. Her smile told him that he had been trapped. "I see," he added. "You mean that there ain"t any reason why we can"t do it."
He arose and tramped uneasily about the little shanty. "Oh, of course, we"ll get it done--just because we have to. There ain"t anything else we can do. But just the same I"m sick of the business. I want to quit."
She said nothing, and after a moment he wheeled and, facing her, demanded abruptly: "What"s the matter with me, anyway?" She looked at him frankly, a smile, almost mischievous, in her face. The hard, hara.s.sed look between his eyes and about his drawn mouth melted away, and he repeated the question: "What"s the matter with me? You"re the doctor. I"ll take whatever medicine you say."
"You didn"t take Mr. Peterson"s suggestion very well--about taking a holiday, I mean. I don"t know whether I dare prescribe for you or not. I don"t think you need a day off. I think that, next to a good, long vacation, the best thing for you is excitement." He laughed. "No, I mean it. You"re tired out, of course, but if you have enough to occupy your mind, you don"t know it. The trouble to-day is that everything is going too smoothly. You weren"t a bit afraid yesterday that the elevator wouldn"t be done on time. That was because you thought there was going to be a strike. And if just now the elevator should catch on fire or anything, you"d feel all right about it again."