“If we don’t, it won’t be for lack of trying,” answered Mr. Schofield grimly. “There’s Mr. Round,” he added, as the sounder on his desk wakened suddenly to life.
“It’s Round,” chattered the instrument, when Mr. Schofield had given the go-ahead signal. “I have ten crews here ready for duty. They will live for the present in our offices. I will send eight more crews to Wadsworth to-night. Arrange to lodge and board them in the freight-house, also instruct local officer to swear in ten deputies to protect them—more if necessary. Get as many more local men as you can. You ought to be able to get a good many firemen among men out of work. Eight crews will arrive at Parkersburg from east to-night. If any symptom of trouble, notify sheriff. If he won’t act promptly, notify me and I’ll get troops. Strikers must be kept away from new men at any cost and company’s property protected. Arrest for trespass any found on company’s property. Round.”
“O. K.,” Mr. Schofield clicked back. “I understand. Good work. That makes a total of twenty-six crews,” he added, turning to his companions. “And if by crews, he means conductors and brakemen too, we’re pretty well fixed for the present. What do you think about getting local men, George?”
“I wouldn’t do it unless it’s absolutely necessary,” answered the train master. “You can’t keep local men shut up, and as sure as we let them go home, the strikers will get them. It will be inviting trouble right away.”
“I don’t know but what you’re right,” agreed Mr. Schofield, after a moment’s thought. “We’ll let that go for the present. I’ve got plenty to do as it is,” and he hastened away to give the orders necessary to prepare the freight-house for the reception of the new men.
Fifty cots were secured, a cook-stove, tables and chairs, some light bed-clothing and a lot of tin dishes. Rude shelves were nailed up along the wall and a supply of canned vegetables, ham and bacon, coffee, sugar, condensed milk, molasses, flour, cornmeal, potatoes and other staples piled upon them, or heaped along the floor beneath. A cook from a small up-town café was hired and the superintendent did not forget to order in a case of tobacco, some decks of cards, dominoes, checkers, and a lot of illustrated papers. For the success of almost any strike-breaking depends on keeping the strike-breakers amused, in seeing that they are well-fed, and in taking care that they hold no communication with the strikers. Mr. Schofield proposed to take no chances of failure in any of these directions.
While these preparations were being made, he called in the local detective employed by the road—a tall, raw-boned fellow named Stanley, a miracle of aggressiveness and nerve and with no little detective ability—and explained the situation to him. An hour later, that worthy marched into the mayor’s office at the head of ten husky men.
“I want to get these fellows sworn in, Your Honor,” he said. “I guess you’ve heard about the strike.”
The mayor looked down from his desk in some perturbation. The railroad element formed a very important portion of his clientele, and he was anxious to do nothing to offend it.
“Now see here, Stanley,” he said, “you don’t need all this force. We’re not going to have any fighting here. If you need help, I’ll furnish it.”