disaster, and his only salvation was to take back all of his employees on their own terms.
The differences between the two wings of the strikers were sharp and serious. The clash of ideas was grave and threatening. At the head of those who were in favor of yielding was Lamar. Indeed it was he who had skilfully worked up so powerful a sentiment for surrender. Leading the opposition was Bricky Hoover, the one hero of the strike, who, by crude logic and individual appeal, was still holding the minority in line.
All day the battle of opinion had raged. Bad blood had been aroused. Quarrels were frequent. In some cases blows had been exchanged.
It was, therefore, an excited and an impatient crowd that gathered that afternoon in front of Carpenters' Hall as the hour for the meeting drew near. Wild rumors filled the air. Mr. Malleson had agreed to take them all back. Mr. Malleson had sworn that not one of them would ever again be permitted to enter his mills. Evictions were to begin at once. Their leaders had sold them out. Three hundred strike-breakers were already inside the plant; more were on the way. If any force was used on the new men the guards and deputies had been instructed to shoot to kill. These, and a hundred other stories, false and true, floated constantly back and forth through the moving and gesticulating crowd.
It was well that the crowd kept moving, and gesticulating too for that matter, for the late March day had brought keen winds and flurries of snow, and comfort was not to be had by standing motionless in the street.
It was past the hour for the meeting, and the doors of the hall had not yet been opened. That was inexcusable. The men demanded that they be permitted to enter in order that they might at least keep warm. They struggled with each other for places near the steps. Then word came that the proprietor of the hall
