“All right,” said Allan, “that’s all I want to know. Thank you for coming over.”
He turned back to his work, and Hummel, after one venomous glance, stalked out the door. Allan watched him and his guard as they crossed the tracks toward the freight-house; then he reached for his list and scratched out Hummel’s name. But which name should be substituted? He hesitated for a moment and then, snatching up his hat, hastened over to the freight-house himself. Half an hour later he returned, with some little information as to the appearance of the owners of the several names. Fully half of them he had checked off as not to be sent out at all, unless it should prove absolutely necessary. From the other half he chose the men who would be needed during the next twenty-four hours.
So the morning passed and noon came, and the great division clock ticked off the seconds as calmly as though this midday was just like any other. To all appearances it was. The first train to start, Number Four, the east-bound flyer, left Cincinnati at 12.15, promptly on time. The regular engineer had, of course, failed to report for duty, and when a special man, convoyed by Mr. Schofield, climbed up on the engine, the fireman, as Nixon had predicted, climbed down. Another man was promptly put in his place, and no further disaffection developed, both conductor and brakeman remained on duty, nor did any switchman attempt to interfere with the train as it rolled slowly out of the yards and on to the main track. Mr. Schofield had chosen the best men at his command for this train, and as it passed station after station on time, Allan’s spirits rose perceptibly.
Other trains were started out without misadventure. At Wadsworth, the strike-breakers were convoyed to and from their trains by two of Stanley’s men, the remainder patrolling the yards and keeping them clear of loiterers. It was soon evident, however, that ten men would not be enough to handle this work night and day, and Allan instructed Stanley to swear in ten more deputies.
So the first afternoon passed and the first evening came.
It was a raw and blustery night, very dark, with dashes of sleet and snow, and, while everything had passed off serenely without sign of trouble, Allan was not wholly at ease as he left his office and started home to supper. In fact, things were too serene, and Allan could scarcely believe that the strikers would permit their places to be filled so quietly. Something of this apprehension must have been apparent in his face, as he sat down to supper, for Mamie, who was always quick to note any change in him, looked at him anxiously and started to ask a question, but thought better of it and closed her lips again.
“You’re lookin’ real tired, Allan,” Mary observed.
“I am a little tired,” he admitted. “A good supper will set me up again. Where’s Jack?”
“He hasn’t come yet. Delayed out on the road somewheres, I reckon. He’s mighty uncertain at his meals since he got his promotion. Here he comes now,” she added, as a heavy foot sounded on the side porch, and the back door opened.
They heard him moving around in the kitchen, evidently washing up after the day’s work. Then he opened the door and came into the dining-room.