“You’ll remember it and help me out if you can?” asked Zeph.
“Surely I will,” and Ralph made a note of the number of the car in his memorandum book.
When the young fireman arose the next morning, he found Zeph seated on the front porch lounging back in an easy chair and his face all bandaged up. Mrs. Fairbanks stood near by, regarding her guest solicitously.
“Why, what is the matter, Zeph?” inquired Ralph in profound surprise.
“Whipped four men, that’s all,” answered Zeph with a smile that was almost ghastly, for his lips were all cut and swollen up, one eye disfigured and two teeth gone. “I went on my rounds this morning. I made sure to wake up the fellows on call, and one of them threatened to kill me if I ever came to his door again with that ‘fog-horn holler’ of mine, as he called it. The night watch-man said he’d arrest me for disturbing the peace. I didn’t mind that. Then I ran across four 131 strikers. They wanted me to join them. I refused, and—that’s all, except that I’ll bet they are worse off than I am, if it was four to one.”
“Going to keep right on at your job?” inquired Ralph.
“Am I?” cried the undaunted Zeph. “Well, if anything would make me it would be this attack on me. Tell you, Fairbanks, hot times are coming. Forgan was on duty all night, and he told me this morning to advise you to be extra cautious in coming to work. The strikers are in an ugly mood, and they are going to make a bold break to smash up things to-day, they threaten.”
“Yes,” sighed Ralph, “affairs must come to a crisis sooner or later, I fear. Duty is plain, though. I shall stick to Griscom, and Griscom insists that he will stick to the road.”
Mrs. Fairbanks looked anxious and frightened. Turning to enter the house, the young fireman started violently and his mother and Zeph uttered exclamations of excitement.
A terrific explosion had rent the air. Its echoes rang out far and wide, and its source seemed to be the railroad depot.