"No, an" me man don"t. He"s new, an" they dar"sn"t trust him. It was in the back room, he says, they picked "em out."
Tom stood for some moments in deep thought, gazing at the fire, her arms akimbo. Then, wheeling suddenly, she opened the door of the sitting-room, and said in a firm, resolute voice:--
"Gran"pop, come here; I want ye."
The old man laid down his book, and stood in the kitchen doorway. He was in his shirt-sleeves, his spectacles on his forehead.
"Come inside the kitchen, an" shut that door behind ye. Here"s me friend Jane Todd an" a friend of hers from the tenement. That thief of a McGaw has stirred up the Union over the haulin" bid, and they"ve sent notice to Schwartz that I don"t belong to the Union, an" if he don"t throw me over an" give the job to McGaw they"ll call out the men. If they do, there"s a hundred women and three times that many children that"ll go hungry. This woman here"s got a girl herself that hasn"t drawed a well breath for six months, an" her man"s been idle all winter, an" only just now got a job at Schwartz"s, tending gate. Now, what"ll I do? Shall I chuck up the job or stick?"
The old man looked into the desolate, weary face of the woman and then at Tom. Then he said slowly:--
"Well, child, ye kin do widout it, an" maybe t" others can"t."
"Ye"ve got it straight," said Tom; "that"s just what I think meself."
Then, turning to the stranger:--
"Go home and tell yer man to go to bed. I"ll touch nothin" that"ll break the heart of any woman. The job"s McGaw"s. I"ll throw up me bid."
IX. WHAT A SPARROW SAW
Ever since the eventful morning when Carl had neglected the Big Gray for a stolen hour with Jennie, Cully had busied himself in devising ways of making the Swede"s life miserable. With a boy"s keen insight, he had discovered enough to convince him that Carl was "dead mashed on Jennie,"
as he put it, but whether "for keeps" or not he had not yet determined.
He had already enriched his songs with certain tender allusions to their present frame of mind and their future state of happiness. "Where was Moses when the light went out!" and "Little Annie Rooney" had undergone so subtle a change when sung at the top of Mr. James Finnegan"s voice that while the original warp and woof of those very popular melodies were entirely unrecognizable to any but the persons interested, to them they were as gall and wormwood. This was Cully"s invariable way of expressing his opinions on current affairs. He would sit on the front-board of his cart,--the Big Gray stumbling over the stones as he walked, the reins lying loose,--and fill the air with details of events pa.s.sing in the village, with all the gusto of a variety actor. The impending strike at the brewery had been made the basis of a paraphrase of "Johnnie, get your gun;" and even McGaw"s red head had come in for its share of abuse to the air of "Fire, boys, fire!" So for a time this new development of tenderness on the part of Carl for Jennie served to ring the changes on "Moses" and "Annie Rooney."
Carl"s budding hopes had been slightly nipped by the cold look in Tom"s eye when she asked him if it took an hour to give Jennie a tattered ap.r.o.n. With some disappointment he noticed that except at rare intervals, and only when Tom was at home, he was no longer invited to the house. He had always been a timid, shrinking fellow where a woman was concerned, having followed the sea and lived among men since he was sixteen years old. During these earlier years he had made two voyages in the Pacific, and another to the whaling-ground in the Arctic seas. On this last voyage, in a gale of wind, he had saved all the lives aboard a brig, the crew helpless from scurvy. When the lifeboat reached the lee of her stern, Carl at the risk of his life climbed aboard, caught a line, and lowered the men, one by one, into the rescuing yawl. He could with perfect equanimity have faced another storm and rescued a second crew any hour of the day or night, but he could not face a woman"s displeasure. Moreover, what Tom wanted done was law to Carl. She had taken him out of the streets and given him a home. He would serve her in whatever way she wished as long as he lived.
He and Gran"pop were fast friends. On rainy days, or when work was dull in the winter months, the old man would often come into Carl"s little chamber, next the harness-room in the stable, and sit on his bed by the hour. And Carl would tell him about his people at home, and show him the pictures tacked over his bed, those of his old mother with her white cap, and of the young sister who was soon to be married.
On Sundays Carl followed Tom and her family to church, waiting until they had left the house. He always sat far back near the door, so that he could see them come out. Then he would overtake Pop with Patsy, whenever the little fellow could go. This was not often, for now there were many days when the boy had to lie all day on the lounge in the sitting-room, poring over his books or playing with Stumpy, brought into the kitchen to amuse him.
Since the day of Tom"s warning look, Carl rarely joined her daughter.
Jennie would loiter by the way, speaking to the girls, but he would hang back. He felt that Tom did not want them together.
One spring morning, however, a new complication arose. It was a morning when the sky was a delicate violet-blue, when the sunlight came tempered through a tender land haze and a filmy mist from the still sea, when all the air was redolent with sweet smells of coming spring, and all the girls were gay in new attire. Dennis Quigg had been lounging outside the church door, his silk hat and green satin necktie glistening in the sun.
When Jennie tripped out Quigg started forward. The look on his face, as with swinging shoulders he slouched beside her, sent a thrill of indignation through Carl. He could give her up, perhaps, if Tom insisted, but never to a man like Quigg. Before the walking delegate had "pa.s.sed the time of day," the young sailor was close beside Jennie, within touch of her hand.
There was no love lost between the two men. Carl had not forgotten the proposition Quigg had made to him to leave Tom"s employ, nor had Quigg forgotten the uplifted shovel with which his proposal had been greeted.
Yet there was no well-defined jealousy between them. Mr. Walking Delegate Dennis Quigg, confidential agent of Branch No. 3, Knights of Labor, had too good an opinion of himself ever to look upon that "tow-headed duffer of a stable-boy" in the light of a rival. Nor could Carl for a moment think of that narrow-chested, red-faced, flashily dressed Knight as being able to make the slightest impression on "Mees Jan."
Quigg, however, was more than welcome to Jennie to-day. A little sense of wounded pride sent the hot color to her cheeks when she thought of Carl"s apparent neglect. He had hardly spoken to her in weeks. What had she done that he should treat her so? She would show him that there were just as good fellows about as Mr. Carl Nilsson.
But all this faded out when Carl joined her--Carl, so straight, clear-skinned, brown, and ruddy; his teeth so white; his eyes so blue!
She could see out of the corner of her eye how the hair curled in tiny rings on his temples.
Still it was to Quigg she talked. And more than that, she gave him her prayer-book to carry until she fixed her glove--the glove that needed no fixing at all. And she chattered on about the dance at the boat club, and the picnic which was to come off when the weather grew warmer.
And Carl walked silent beside her, with his head up and his heart down, and the tears very near his eyes.
When they reached the outer gate of the stable-yard, and Quigg had slouched off without even raising his hat,--the absence of all courtesy stands in a certain cla.s.s for a mark of higher respect,--Carl swung back the gate, and held it open for her to pa.s.s in. Jennie loitered for a moment. There was a look in Carl"s face she had not seen before. She had not meant to hurt him, she said to herself.
"What mak" you no lak me anna more, Mees Jan? I big annough to carry da buke," said Carl.
"Why, how you talk, Carl! I never said such a word," said Jennie, leaning over the fence, her heart fluttering.
The air was soft as a caress. Opal-tinted clouds with violet shadows sailed above the low hills. In the shade of the fence dandelions had burst into bloom. From a bush near by a song-sparrow flung a note of spring across the meadow.
"Well, you nev" cam" to stable anna more, Mees Jan," Carl said slowly, in a tender, pleading tone, his gaze on her face.
The girl reached through the fence for the golden flower. She dared not trust herself to look. She knew what was in her lover"s eyes.
"I get ta flower," said Carl, vaulting the fence with one hand.
"No; please don"t trouble. Oh, Carl!" she exclaimed suddenly. "The horrid brier! My hand"s all scratched!"
"Ah, Mees Jan, I so sorry! Let Carl see it," he said, his voice melting.
"I tak" ta brier out," pushing back the tangled vines of last year to bring himself nearer.
The clouds sailed on. The sparrow stood, on its tallest toes and twisted its little neck.
"Oh, please do, Carl, it hurts so!" she said, laying her little round hand in the big, strong, h.o.r.n.y palm that had held the life-line the night of the wreck.
The song-sparrow clung to the swaying top of a mullein-stalk near by, and poured out a strong, swelling, joyous song that well-nigh split its throat.
When Tom called Jennie, half an hour later, she and Carl were still talking across the fence.
X. CULLY WINS BY A NECK
About this time the labor element in the village and vicinity was startled by an advertis.e.m.e.nt in the Rockville "Daily News," signed by the clerk of the Board of Village Trustees, notifying contractors that thirty days thereafter, closing at nine P.M. precisely, separate sealed proposals would be received at the meeting-room of the board, over the post-office, for the hauling of twenty thousand cubic yards of fine crushed stone for use on the public highways; bidders would be obliged to give suitable bonds, etc.; certified check for five hundred dollars to accompany each bid as guaranty, etc.
The news was a grateful surprise to the workingmen. The hauling and placing of so large an amount of material as soon as spring opened meant plenty of work for many shovelers and pickers. The local politicians, of course, had known all about it for weeks; especially those who owned property fronting on the streets to be improved: they had helped the appropriation through the finance committee. McGaw, too, had known about it from the first day of its discussion before the board. Those who were inside the ring had decided then that he would be the best man to haul the stone. The "steal," they knew, could best be arranged in the tally of the carts--the final check on the scow measurement. They knew that McGaw"s accounts could be controlled, and the total result easily "fixed." The stone itself had been purchased of the manufacturers the year before, but there were not funds enough to put it on the roads at that time.
Here, then, was McGaw"s chance. His triumph at obtaining the brewery contract was but short-lived. Schwartz had given him the work, but at Tom"s price, not at his own. McGaw had accepted it, hoping for profits that would help him with his chattel mortgage. After he had been at work for a month, however, he found that he ran behind. He began to see that, in spite of its boastings, the Union had really done nothing for him, except indirectly with its threatened strike. The Union, on the other hand, insisted that it had been McGaw"s business to arrange his own terms with Schwartz. What it had done was to kill Grogan as a compet.i.tor, and knock her non-union men out of the job. This ended its duty.
While they said this much to McGaw; so far as outsiders could know, the Union claimed that they had scored a brilliant victory. The Brooklyn and New York branches duly paraded it as another triumph over capital, and their bank accounts were accordingly increased with new dues and collections.
With this new contract in his possession, McGaw felt certain he could cancel his debt with Crane and get even with the world. He began his arrangements at once. Police-Justice Rowan, the prospective candidate for the a.s.sembly, who had acquired some landed property by the purchase of expired tax t.i.tles, agreed to furnish the certified check for five hundred dollars and to sign McGaw"s bond for a consideration to be subsequently agreed upon. A brother of Rowan"s, a contractor, who was finishing some grading at Quarantine Landing, had also consented, for a consideration, to loan McGaw what extra teams he required.
The size of the contract was so great, and the deposit check and bond were so large, that McGaw concluded at once that the compet.i.tion would be narrowed down between himself and Rowan"s brother, with Justice Rowan as backer, and perhaps one other firm from across the island, near New Brighton. His own advantage over other bidders was in his living on the spot, with his stables and teams near at hand.
Tom, he felt a.s.sured, was out of the way. Not only was the contract very much too large for her, requiring twice as many carts as she possessed, but now that the spring work was about to begin, and Babc.o.c.k"s sea-wall work to be resumed, she had all the stevedoring she could do for her own customers, without going outside for additional business.
Moreover, she had apparently given up the fight, for she had bid on no work of any kind since the morning she had called upon Schwartz and told him, in her blunt, frank way, "Give the work to McGaw at me price. It"s enough and fair."