The conference broke up at a late hour and the boys made their way home through back yards and across open lots in order to avoid meeting with strikers. It was not that they were afraid, but they were acting the part of prudence. They had set out to achieve by their own efforts what the company, with all its resources and money, had not been able to accomplish, and that was to break the backbone of the strike.
It was a giant's task, it seemed, for two youngsters to attempt, but the Iron Boys were determined that it should be done.
The next day dawned raw and blustering. The weather, however, did not keep the strikers within doors. Groups were gathered on every corner, where, while stamping about to keep from freezing, they discussed the situation. Shortly before noon there was a meeting at Liberty Hall. Of course the Iron Boys were not present.
When the men came away from that meeting a change had stolen over them. They had ceased their noisy threats. Their faces were sullen and their words were few.
"Look out for trouble!" nodded Steve, as he observed the men from the window of a house across the way.
"Yes; they are loaded for bear," agreed Bob.
"Something has stirred them up. Probably Cavard has been talking to them. That man is a fiend in human form. He handles them, makes them his playthings, all to serve his own selfish purposes."
The boys came up with Mr. Penton, who was on his way to the mines from his office. Steve stepped up to him, touching his hat.
"How are you, boys? I have just closed down the shafts for the rest of the day. I don't like the looks of things."
"Neither do I, sir," answered Steve.