way.

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.

Meantime, the Fire Department had arrived upon the scene with a couple
of engines, a hose reel and other fire-fighting apparatus, the firemen
greatly hampered in their operations.

Swinging his car back through the crowd, Maitland made his way to the
street, and set to work to clear the space immediately in front of the
foundry. Parking his cars at one end of the street, and forming his men
up in a single line, he began slowly to press back the crowd. It
was slow and difficult work, for the crowd, unable to recognise his
ununiformed special constables, resented their attack.

He called Victor to his side. "Get a