their
abetters were invariably beaten back with bruised heads and broken
bones. If a luckless striker fell he was trampled upon by the horses of
the mounted police or kicked into unconsciousness by the desperate
deputies.

"Can you get me out of this so I can have a go at this pie-card?" asked
the man.

"Yas," said Patsy, leaping into the car. "Skin off your coat."

When the two men had exchanged coats and caps the vag strolled leisurely
down the track and in a little while Patsy followed. He had not gone
three cars before the mob saw him and with the cry of "The scab! the
scab!" sent a shower of sticks and stones after the flying brakeman. A
rock struck Patsy on the head and he fell to the ground. The cap, which
he had worn well over his eyes, fell off, and he was recognized by one
of the strikers before his ribs could be kicked in. "Begad," said the
leader of the mob, "it's the singin' brakeman. Th' bum have robbed 'im
uv 'es clothes an' giv' us the slip," and they picked Patsy up and
carried him away to the hospital.

CHAPTER SIXTH

Three kinds of meetings were held by the strikers. Public meetings, open
to everybody, union meetings, open to any member of the several
organizations engaged in the strike, and secret sessions held by the
various Brotherhoods, to which only members of that particular order
were admitted.

Many things were said and done at these secret sessions that were never
printed, or even mentioned outside the lodge-room, save when a detective
happened to be a member, or when a member happened to be a detective.

At one of these meetings, held by the striking firemen, the head of that
organization startled the audience with the declaration that the strike
was going to end disastrously for the strikers. In fact, he said, the
strike was already lost. They were beaten. The only point to be
determined was as to the extent of the thrashing. This red rag, flung in
the faces of the "war faction," called forth hisses and hoots from the
no-surrender element. A number of men were on their feet instantly, but
none with the eloquence, or even the lung power to shut the chief off.
Many of the outraged members glanced over at Cowels, who always sat near
the little platform at the end of the hall in order that he might not
keep his admirers waiting when they called for a speech. The greatest
confusion prevailed during the address of the head of the house. Cowels,
the recognized leader of the war pa