“No,” she said, “I must go through.” She had the look and tone of a martyr. “They chose me, you see, and I must go through!”
“Oh, very well,” said Adrien cheerfully. “We shall just go along, Vic.”
Through the main streets of the town the parade marched and countermarched till, in a sudden, they found themselves in front of the McGinnis foundry. Before the gate in the high board fence which enclosed the property, a small crowd had gathered, which greeted the marching column with uproarious cheers. From the company at the gate a man rushed forward and spoke eagerly to the officer in command.
“By Jove, there's Tony!” said Vic. “And that chap McDonough. What does this mean?”
After a brief conversation with Tony, who apparently was passionately pressing his opinion, the officer shook his head and marched steadily forward. Suddenly Tony, climbing upon the fence, threw up his hand and, pointing toward the foundry, shouted forth the single word, “Scabs!” Instantly the column halted. Again Tony, in a yell, uttered the same word, “Scabs!” From hundreds of throats there was an answering roar, savage, bloodthirsty as from a pack of wild beasts. Tony waved his hand for silence.
“Scabs!” he cried again. “McGinnis strike-breakers! They came to-night. They are in there!” He swung his arm around and pointed to the foundry. “Shall we give them a welcome? What do you say, boys?” Again and more fiercely than before, more terribly cruel, came the answering roar.
“Here, this is no place for you!” cried Vic. “Let's get out.” At his touch the machine leaped forward, clear of the crowd.
“Annette!” cried Adrien, her hand on Vic's shoulder. “Go and get her!”
Halting the car, Vic leaped from the wheel, ran to where the girls' squad was halted and caught Annette by the arm.
“Annette,” he said, “get your girls away from here quick! Come with us!”