With cool, swift efficiency born of his experience in the war, the Chief went on with his arrangements. In his hands the process of swearing in a number of special constables was speedily accomplished. Meantime many cars and a considerable number of men had gathered about the Police Headquarters.
“What is that light?” cried the Mayor suddenly, pointing in the direction of the foundry. “It's a fire! My God, Chief, do you see that fire? Hurry up! Why don't you hurry up? They will burn the town down.”
“All right, Mr. Mayor,” said the Chief. “We shall be there in a few minutes now. Captain Maitland,” said the Chief, “I will take the men I have with me. Will you swear in all you can get within the next fifteen or twenty minutes, and report to me at the foundry? Sergeant, you come along with me! I'm off!” So saying, the Chief commandeered as many cars as were necessary, packed them with the members of his police force available and with the specials he had secured, and hurried away.
After the Chief had retired, Jack stood up in his car. “Any of you chaps want to get into this?” he said, addressing the crowd. His voice was cheery and cool. At once a dozen voices responded. “Righto!” “Here you are!” “Put me down!” In less than fifteen minutes, he had secured between forty and fifty men.
“I want all these cars,” he said. “Get in, men. Hold on!” he shouted at a driver who had thrown in his clutch. “Let no man move without orders! Any man disobeying orders will be arrested at once! Remember that no guns are to be used, no matter what provocation may be given. Even if you are fired on, don't fire in return! Does any man know where we can get anything in the shape of clubs?”
“Hundreds of axe handles in our store,” said Rupert.
“Right you are! Drivers, fall in line. Keep close up. Now, Mr. Mayor, if you please.”
Armed with axe handles from Stillwell & Son's store, they set off for the scene of action. Arrived at the foundry they found the maddest, wildest confusion raging along the street in front of the foundry, and in the foundry yard which was crowded with men. The board fence along the front of the grounds had been torn down and used as fagots to fire the foundry, which was blazing merrily in a dozen places. Everywhere about the blazing building parties of men like hounds on the trail were hunting down strike-breakers and, on finding them, were brutally battering them into insensibility.
Driving his car through the crowd, Maitland found his way to the Chief. In a few short, sharp sentences, the Chief explained his plan of operations. “Clear the street in front, and hold it so! Then come and assist me in clearing this yard.”
“All right, sir!” replied Maitland, touching his hat as to a superior officer, and, wheeling his car, he led his men back to the thronging street.