Were they deputies whom the sheriff sought to bring in like a thief in the night? Were they—and at this thought every man's blood boiled—a regiment of Pinkertons brought there to repeat the Pinkerton exploits of a few years before in the coke regions?
RIVER ENTRANCE TO THE WORKS.
What were the odds, one way or the other? Whoever the visitors were, they came with every manifestation of an evil purpose, and was not self-preservation the first law of nature, applying as such to a Homestead steelworker in danger of losing his job and, perhaps, his home?
So the fence went down, and the straight road from the river to the mill was blockaded by a band of resolute fellows that neither Pinkerton men nor sheriff's deputies could hope to overcome.
The scene at this time within the barge Iron Mountain, which had been towed close to the shore, was one of wild confusion. The plan of a secret landing had been frustrated, and there was nothing for it now but a hand-to-hand conflict against terrible odds.
The cases of rifles were broken open and these weapons and revolvers were hastily distributed among the men. About fifty men were armed with clubs. Captain John W. Cooper, of the New York and Philadelphia division, Captain Charles Norton, of the Chicago division, and Captain Heinde, who had general charge of the expedition, supervised these arrangements. When all were in readiness for battle, a gang-plank was shoved out and the three captains stepped forward, with Heinde in the van. Twenty of the rank and file appeared behind them on the bow of the boat.
At this offensive move, the Homestead men, most of whom were armed, shouted a fierce warning.
"Go back," they cried, "go back, or we'll not answer for your lives."
There were blue uniforms among the group on the bow of the Iron Mountain, and these told their own story to the excited people on the shore.