At nine o’clock that night, forty-eight strike-breakers alighted from a special coach which had been attached to the east-bound flier, and were conducted immediately to the freight-house. There was a crowd on the station platform to see them alight, but no effort was made to interfere with them, though again there was hooting and shouting. Train master and superintendent watched this demonstration in silence, and then mounted to their offices.
“What do you think of it?” asked the former.
“I don’t know,” answered Mr. Schofield, slowly. “But I’m afraid there’ll be trouble. Just listen to that,” and he motioned toward the row of saloons along the street opposite the yards.
Every one of them was ablaze with light, and every one was crowded, apparently, from the jangle and roar of voices which came from them, and which could be heard even above the noise of the yards. Evidently there was much excitement in railroad-dom, and the prospect for peace upon the morrow was not encouraging.
CHAPTER XV
IN CHARGE AT WADSWORTH
The P. & O. freight-house at Wadsworth is a long, low, one-storied brick building which stands just across the yards from the station. Like the station, it is dingy and grimy and gritty, as well as inadequate to the needs of the terminal; but no attempt was ever made to clean or brighten—much less to enlarge—it, and its self-respect had long since disappeared as a result of this neglect.
At one end of the building are the offices, where the freight agent and his clerks labour with reports and receipts and bills of lading—a mass and complexity of documents appalling and seemingly inextricable. The offices are crowded and gloomy and ill-smelling, for here, too, the road economizes at the expense of its employees’ health; but their condition is order and cleanliness itself when compared with that of the great echoing freight-shed which occupies three-fourths of the building. No light penetrates to it except from the doors, for there is no room for windows, and the doors are overhung by the wide, low roof which covers the surrounding platform. As a result, the freight-shed resembles a cavern in everything but atmosphere. In that, it resembles only itself; for its atmosphere is a thing apart, a thing to be encountered nowhere else, compounded as it is of a variety of odours which defy enumeration. You have seen composite photographs? Well, the freight-house atmosphere reminded one of a composite photograph of particularly ugly people. It was something to flee from and wonder at and remember with awe.
A wide platform the height of a freight car door runs all around this portion of the building, abutting on one side on the yards and on the other on the street. Behind it, and stretching along between the yards and the street, is a long platform, an extension of the one running around the building. Beside this platform, a long line of freight cars is always standing—loaded cars from which the freight is being yanked out into the freight-house, or empties into which freight from the house is being hustled. And so various it is—crates, boxes, barrels, kegs, baskets, loose pieces of steel and iron, great sacks of burlap—it is impossible to give any idea of it here. Imagine, if you can, all the things you ever saw in all the stores in town, and all the raw material which is used in your town’s manufactures, and you will find that nearly all of it came through the freight depot; to say nothing of your town’s products which go out again. It is a strenuous place, the freight depot, and the men who labour there are big-armed and strong-backed and deep-chested. For theirs is a job that demands brawn.
It was the echoing cavern of the freight-shed at Wadsworth which had been selected by Mr. Round as headquarters for the strike-breakers, not because it was particularly adapted to that use, but because it was the only place available. So the freight on hand had to be carefully sorted over, the larger articles taken out and stacked on the platform, the smaller ones stacked up at the end of the room nearest the offices, behind a flimsy board partition which had been hastily nailed up. Behind this barrier the freight men were instructed to transact their business, and orders were issued that on no account should any of them be permitted any intercourse with the strike-breakers.