A strange sensation came over Piper; a loud, tumultuous noise following the word, filled his ears. Was it the rush of the river, or the thunder of a railroad train? He could not tell; but he shouted suddenly with fierce exultation:
"Hounshell—that's the name! Hounshell's the man!"
His memory had come back to him.
The strikers, diverted by this new object, turned as if to assault the "boss;" but Piper was before them. He had darted forward and toward Hounshell, who, blanched with fear, and thinking Piper in league with the men, took flight, making for the bridge; the Californian after him. The little mob, itself bewildered, followed; but Piper had already clutched the fugitive when it caught up with them.
"I've got him," he cried. "This man's a fraud. Do you want to know why? He took the money left to the other man—Scofield—hurrah! that's the other name. He stole the money, I tell you, and bought that mill, and it don't belong to him. The mill is Scofield's; d'you hear?"
"Let go," gurgled Hounshell, trying to wrench himself free. But his captor shook him once, and he was quiet.
The workmen crowded up to get a clearer understanding of this extraordinary statement; and as it broke fully upon them, "Throw him over the bridge," became their watchword. But by this time several other persons had advanced over the street bridge, among whom were Jonah and Scofield.
"No violence, boys," said Jonah, lifting his voice, which had authority. "You're disgracing the cause."
The men became silent, but Scofield was indignant with his ally of a moment before.
"What are you doing to the boss?" he demanded, hotly. "You must be crazy."