"

"Listen, pardner," said the leader, ignoring the policeman and
addressing Hurstwood. "We're all working men, like yourself. If you were
a regular motorman, and had been treated as we've been, you wouldn't
want any one to come in and take your place, would you? You wouldn't
want any one to do you out of your chance to get your rights, would
you?"

"Shut her off! shut her off!" urged the other of the policemen, roughly.
"Get out of this, now," and he jumped the railing and landed before the
crowd and began shoving. Instantly the other officer was down beside
him.

"Stand back, now," they yelled. "Get out of this. What the hell do you
mean? Out, now."

It was like a small swarm of bees.

"Don't shove me," said one of the strikers, determinedly. "I'm not doing
anything."

"Get out of this!" cried the officer, swinging his club. "I'll give ye a
bat on the sconce. Back, now."

"What the hell!" cried another of the strikers, pushing the other way,
adding at the same time some lusty oaths.

Crack came an officer's club on his forehead. He blinked his eyes
blindly a few times, wabbled on his legs, threw up his hands, and
staggered back. In return, a swift fist landed on the officer's neck.

Infuriated by this, the latter plunged left and right, laying about
madly with his club. He was ably assisted by his brother of the blue,
who poured ponderous oaths upon the troubled waters. No severe damage
was done, owing to the agility of the strikers in keeping out of reach.
They stood about the sidewalk now and jeered.

"Where is the conductor?" yelled one of the officers, getting his eye on
that individual, who had come nervously forward to stand by Hurstwood.
The latter had stood gazing upon the scene with more astonishment than
fear.

"Why don't you come down here and get these stones off the track?"
inquired the officer. "What you standing there for? Do you want to stay
here all day? Get down."

Hurstwood breathed heavily in excitement and jumped down with the
nervous conductor as if he had been called.

"Hurry up, now," said the other policeman.

Cold as it was, these officers were hot and mad. Hurstwood worked with
the conductor, lifting stone after stone and warming himself by the
work.

"Ah, you scab, you!" yelled the crowd. "You coward! Steal a man's job,
will you? Rob the poor, will you, you thief? We'll get you yet, now.
Wait."

Not all of this was delivered by one man. It came from here and there,
i