“Yes,” replied the scout master, reluctantly, “I’m afraid it does spell that, not only for the strikers’ families but to the company as well.”
“How’s that?” demanded Alec Sands, who had also pushed alongside so as to see better, and at the same time learn what the leader of the Wolf Patrol thought of the situation.
“Why,” replied Hugh, still speaking softly so that those on the road might not overhear the sound of his voice, “there never was a bitter strike yet when bullets flew but what the company involved suffered in the end. Public opinion is against the use of force. There must sooner or later be some way found to arbitrate all these labor troubles. Both sides would be better off if that could be done.”
They remained very quiet as the several detachments passed along the road. Perhaps it was fortunate that the presence of the boys was not suddenly discovered by those guards. They looked as though they might prove to be somewhat reckless in the use of the firearms they were carrying; and since they knew the striking foreigners were camped somewhere in this vicinity, they might have fired on the spur of the moment and investigated afterward.
“I wonder if that’s the whole bunch?” remarked Tom Sherwood, looking up the road as though under the impression that what they had seen was only the advance guard of an invading army.
“They’d be apt to keep as much together as they could,” said Hugh, “so as to be able to cow any demonstration the strikers might make; and on that score I reckon we’ve seen their full strength.”
“Wow! if those excitable foreigners find out that strike-breakers are being taken into the cement works by the back door, they’ll be hopping mad, let me tell you,” observed Billy Worth, seriously.
The situation reminded some of the scouts of that time they had accompanied the militia on their annual training trip, when a mock battle was fought, with the boys rendering invaluable service as part of the Signal Corps.
“Suppose the strikers and that crowd did happen to meet, Hugh; there’d likely be a pitched battle, wouldn’t you think?” asked Bud Morgan.
“The chances lean that way,” he was told. “I’ve heard a good deal about these impetuous foreigners. It seems that the women have more nerve than the men. That may be because they feel the pinch of hunger sooner, and see their children suffering. But they’ve always been known to push their men into a fight, yes, and even take part in the row themselves, with clubs, or any sort of thing they could handle.”