sed to the door. And when he paused there, to turn in sudden
savagery, he realized that his tardiness had robbed him of his chance.
It was too late to talk back then.
"You're tellin' me," he rasped out, "and I was going--sur-re! But
things ar-re not yet finished between you and me. For I'm pr-romisin'
you that I'll be back; I'm pr-romisin' you I'll be wid ye again. I'll
be wid ye again, come spring!"
He disappeared. And hard upon his going Steve wheeled and fronted
those scores of silent men. His eyes leaped from point to point, as
Harrigan's had craftily flitted. Briefly, crisply, he accompanied the
sweeping survey with a voice that was loud enough for all of them to
hear.
"Big Louie! . . . Fallon! . . . Shayne! This is your chance to say
so, if you're going to be lonesome, now that your song-bird has flown.
Speak up! I came down tonight just to hear you talk."
Nothing but an indistinguishable murmur answered him, a low growl that
was neither argument nor evasion. For those hottest partisans, whose
names had been called aloud, knew with Harrigan's going toward whom the
chill finger had been pointed, even though Death had entered and
stalked through their ranks and slipped back out at the door almost
before they realised its nearness.
Rebellion was still a long way ahead for most of them. They had not
yet had time to talk themselves to the pitch of open revolt. They had
merely begun to listen to Harrigan whose disciples in dissatisfaction
they were. And now, in his absence, they stirred uncomfortably under
the gaze of him who remained; they dropped their heads and searched for
matches. But Steve felt the weight of unspoken thoughts when he, too,
faced back in the doorway. This time there was no naming of names; he
embraced the whole room when he spoke.
"They tell me, boys," he said, "that there's talk among you of no more
work on the river when we've put this railroad through. I've heard it
said that some of you think you are cutting the ground out from under
your feet with every shovelful of earth you lift. You ought to know
better than that; you ought to know for yourselves that there'll be
need for more men in these woods than there has ever been before. But
if you don't; if you can't see it that way, why not come around and let
me have a fair chance to talk things over with you, myself, before you
decide to turn on this job? I want you to remember that a man who is a
liar in one thi
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