XXII.--THE MASTER MIND AT WORK
Bowers went thoughtfully home and; next morning, flung himself into hiswork with renewed courage. He had need of it--they all had need of it.There were now thousands who waited for their pay, and daily theseranks were swelled by others who drifted in from the woods. Hundredsof merchants began to refuse credit, though Filmer valiantly used allhis resources. St. Marys was, in truth, stupefied, and when the firstshock began to smooth itself out, the reality of the thing becamegrimly apparent, and then arose the first rumor of trouble inIronville, that straggling settlement of shacks where dwelt the boneand muscle of the works.
To the Swede and Polander there was no suggestion of achievement in thevast buildings in which they labored. It was only the place where theyearned their living. They worked amongst giant mechanisms beside whichthey were puny, but theirs was a life of force and strength which tookfrom them the fear of anything that was merely human. Thus surprisechanged to resentment, and resentment began to resolve itself into aslow and consuming anger. The works were dead, but in the main officethe accounting staff was bending desperately over statementsimperatively demanded by Philadelphia. The black browed Hungarians sawthe lights at night, and felt that they were being played with by thosemore powerful than themselves. If a furnace man was discharged, whykeep on these scribblers?
Outside St. Marys the news ran apace. Toronto papers dwelt on it, andthe Board of Trade read it with regret mingled with thankfulness thatClark had embarked on no financial campaigns in their own city. Thorpewent carefully over the Philadelphia acceptances in his vault, andwondered what they were worth. To St. Marys set out a stream ofrepresentatives of various creditor companies, that filled the localhotels and journeyed out to the works and came back unsatisfied.Philadelphia dispatches were devoured, and the word "reorganization"was one to charm with. One by one, the Company's steamers slid up tothe long docks, made fast and drew their fires, till it seemed that theworks, like a great octopus, was withdrawing every arm and filament itever had radiated, and was coiling them endlessly at its cold andclammy side. Yet, for all of this, it did not seem possible that thewhole structure was tumbling, the structure on which so many years oflabor--so much genius and enthusiasm--so many millions--had beenlavished, until one afternoon a drunken Swede threw a stone into abutcher's window in Ironville and, putting forth a horny hand, seized aside of bacon and set forth, reeling, down the street. Two hours laterthe startled chief accountant, from a window in his office, saw a swarmof a thousand men surge through the big gates of the works and,trampling the guard, flow irregularly forward.
The mob spilt on, a river of big strong men, unaware of its ownstrength. They were not bent on willful destruction, but the wholemass was animated by an inchoate desire to find out something foritself. At the door of the rail mill stood the superintendent and hisfiremen, with drawn revolvers. The rioters liked these men becausethey worked with and understood them. They were not associated withthe present trouble. So on to the administration building, where theoffice staff looked out, petrified with fear. Here, the mob decided,was another breed, so there commenced a hammering on the big oaken doorand stones showered through the windows.
At this, Hobbs, stricken with mortal terror, and oblivious of the girlswho gathered around him, lost his head. There was no escapedownstairs, but opposite his desk was a grated iron window that led onto an adjoining roof. Noting it desperately, he heaved up his softbody and made a plunge for safety. But such was his bulk that, thoughhead, arms and shoulders went through, he stuck there, anchored in aniron grip.
"Help!" he called chokingly, "Help!"
The mob looked up and stared, when from the rear ranks came a bull-likeroar of laughter. Then another burst out and another, till from theground spouted a fountain of jeers, hoots and ridicule that reached thefat man as he hung suspended, with purple face and gesticulating arms.
Clark, in his office, waiting coolly for what might come, caught thechange in the note of riot and, stepping into the next room, saw thelegs of his comptroller brandished in the air. The rest of him wasinvisible, and still in the square outside rocked the booming shouts ofSlavic and Scandinavian mirth. A moment later Hobbs was dragged back,with torn clothing, swollen neck and scratched body. Clark glanced athim contemptuously and went out. Then the doors opened, and he was onthe front steps.
The mob saw him and held its breath. Few of them had ever been so nearhim before. He stood with a quiet smile on his face and a light in hiskeen eyes, and, in the momentary hush, began to speak. There was nofear in voice or attitude. The wind, blowing from the rapids, broughtthe echo of their clamor to the upper windows so that the accountingstaff heard not a word, but the mob heard, and presently the big Polelaughed, just as he had laughed at Hobbs' distorted face suspendedabove him. It was contagious, and Clark, playing upon the mood of themoment, drove home his point.
The money was coming, and he himself would stay there till it came. Inthe meantime, the money would be slower to arrive if there was trouble,and that was all he had to say.
There followed a little hesitation, then an indefinite movement, andthe crowd began to shuffle toward the shattered gates. As it dwindledClark glanced over his shoulder and saw a man within twenty feet, bothhands thrust eloquently into his bulging coat pockets.
"Thanks very much, Belding, I'm glad it wasn't necessary," he saidcrisply, and vanished inside the big doors.
The engineer knew better than to follow, but was bitterly disappointed.He had hoped for some word of comfort, but to not a single employee hadClark said anything of explanation. It was not his habit, and helooked to the intelligence of each man to carry him through. And thiswas typical of his invariable attitude toward those with whom he camein contact. He gauged them by the degree to which they contributed tothe work on hand, and just now the only work on hand was that whichnone but himself could carry out. In personalities Clark was notinterested, but identified them only by some very definite achievementhe was able to hang round their necks like a label.
Belding saw to it that his own offices were guarded and walked to thehead of the rapids. He felt numbed. If Clark had conceived the works,he himself had built them, and, as they grew under his hand, he feltthat something of his own existence went forth with every stroke of adrill, and that a fragment of his brain lay in every course of masonry.Like all true engineers, he delighted in the physical expression of hisability, and here had been such an opportunity as few engineers everrealized. He felt not so much dejected as dumbfounded that so muchskill and labor could be brought to a full stop just as it reached itspermanent stride. In his eyes the figure of Clark had long achievedtitanic proportions. Innumerable things had been demonstrated to bepossible, and to be chief engineer of such an enterprise had been,thought Belding, all that any man could ask. It was true that in thefatigue of work he had often imagined that Clark was going too fast,but always the thing had been done. Now it seemed the ironical jest ofthe gods that a shade too much carbon in a steel rail should wreck thewhole endeavor.
And there was Elsie. He had never been able to give her up. Againstthe glamour of his chief's personality he had nothing to put forwardexcept a whole souled worship, and Elsie, it appeared, preferred theinvitation of the older man's romantic career. Subconsciously, Beldingdecided that the thing was wrong and against nature, for he was markedby a certain simple belief in the general fairness of life. He clungto the doctrine of compensation, and held himself trustingly open towhatever good influences might reach him. Elsie was the highestinfluence of all. In Clark he had found a stimulus that nerved hisbrain to great accomplishments. But Elsie and Clark had togetherwounded his very spirit.
Clark, in the quiet of his private office, was thinking not of Beldingor Elsie, but of the mob that had trailed so uncertainly out of the biggates. He had played for time and he had won--but that was all.Sooner or later, driven by the impossibility of living without pay, themob would return, and in a less
placable mood. He turned to thetelephone. "I want Mr. Filmer." In a moment he was speaking to themayor.
"What happened up here to-day is but a taste of what's coming. You'dbetter get out the militia, if Manson can't handle it. Bowers tells meI can do very little from a point of law, and we look to you forprotection."
"The militia won't help you much." Filmer's voice was a little shaky.His son was in the militia, but he himself had never taken that bodyvery seriously. It was a matter of uniform, a band and a field day ortwo in the year--that was all.
"Well, Bowers tells me that if we kill any one in protecting the placewe'll have a nasty time of it, so it's up to you. If the local militiaare no good, get some up from Toronto. I warn you they'll be needed.Ask Belding if you like, he saw it all."
He leaned back and began a cold blooded survey of the situation. Hewas not in any way desperate, but he turned involuntarily to theresources of his own brain for some solution. It was certain that noimmediate help could be expected from Philadelphia. He was left quiteofficially and deliberately to stem the tide as best he could, and, inspite of the gravity of the moment, smiled at the thought that hisdirectors leaned on him in their extremity. They did not know what todo, therefore he must know. Then suddenly his mind reverted to Semple,and he spent the next few moments in profound thought. "Get hold ofMr. Semple," he said to his secretary, "and bring him here."
In half an hour Semple appeared, flustered and a little pale. A visitto the works just now filled him with apprehension. It seemed likesmoking in a magazine.
"What's the matter?" said Clark, smiling at his agitation.
Semple drew a long breath and, noting the thickness of the officewalls, felt a little safer.
"That's what I was going to ask _you_."
"Only a slight difficulty that you will help to put right."
Semple stared with astonishment. The bottom had apparently fallen outof the works, but Clark was as cool as ever.
"Help?" he demanded, puzzled. Clark evidently did not stand to losemuch in the smash. "You're holding these fellows, aren't you?"
"Yes, for the immediate present, but we'll have to do more. That'swhere you come in."
The member for Algoma was at sea, and said so.
"You represent the Government here," went on Clark, "and we've spentseventeen million dollars in these works. Do you see the conclusion?"
"No, I don't."
"Your government must help us over the stile. Just so long as thosemen remain unpaid, life won't be very safe in St. Marys."
Semple looked round apprehensively. "But my government doesn't livehere. What have I got to do with it?"
"I don't know, but, by virtue of pressure you will exert, theGovernment must help. What's the Liberal majority in Ontario?"
"One. I'm it."
"Then you keep the Premier in power, and he's hanging on to power likegrim death."
"But I don't see--"
"It's simple enough. If you settle this affair to the satisfaction oflocal people, you'll secure Algoma to the Liberal party, so long asthat party wants it."
"By God!" said Semple, startled.
Clark apparently did not hear him. "There's another thing--to setthose works in motion again will be the biggest advertisement anygovernment in Canada ever had. It will swing the labor vote--it willsecure the merchants' support." He paused, then leant forward andpoured into Semple the full pressure--the accumulated effort of mindand spirit. "Ample security is available. I will make repayment thefirst obligation of the Company--it will forestall bonds and everythingelse. What I want, and what you will find for me, is only a fractionof the sum that has been put straight into this Province; and it's notmuch more than we have already paid in mineral and lumber dues andtaxes."
"How much?" said Semple in a fascinated whisper.
"Two million dollars."
"But--"
"There aren't any buts."
"Do you owe that in wages?" Semple was aghast.
"Wages are only a small part of what must be paid at once."
"Where does Philadelphia come in?"
"Philadelphia," smiled Clark, "has left the entire matter to me in themeantime. They are making arrangements which may not be consummatedfor some months. We can thank a prominent American speculator for mostof this. But the Province of Ontario owes us something. Doesn't itoccur to you," he added slowly, "how your personal reputation will beaffected?"
Semple blinked several times and very rapidly. "I'll wire at once," hesaid, with a long breath.
"You'll do nothing of the kind. You'll go down yourself thisafternoon. You know your man, and I know him; and he knows the works.He's been here several times. Put the matter straight,--tell him thatwe are dealing with forces that can only be met in one way. It'seither this, or destruction and bloodshed. I've asked Filmer to wirefor troops. Mr. Semple, what you are about to make is a new move onthe chessboard. Your man is shrewd enough to see it, and it's the newmoves that win. This is not so much politics as economics--tell himthat. I'd go with you--but I must not leave St. Marys just now. Wireme as soon as possible--you've just time to catch your train."
The color climbed into Semple's cheeks, and he went quickly out withhis head up. Clark glanced after him and his lips twisted into a smile.
"I give him forty-eight hours. If it doesn't come by that--we'll ringdown the curtain," he said to himself thoughtfully.
He went out and walked, for hours, through the deserted buildings.They were full of hollow mockery. Watchmen, posted by Belding atstrategic points, glanced after him curiously. He seemed lonely anddiminutive in this mechanical wilderness of his own creation. Theywondered how a man felt in such a position as his at a time like this.He dared not go to the rapids, lest he read in their uproar some newand menacing note. He thought lingeringly of Elsie. She seemed farfrom this crisis, and at the same time curiously a part of it. Neverdid he feel more certain of the girl's affection than now, and it cameto him what a refuge a woman's breast might be for a man in such caseas himself. In the moment his forceful brain protested at the thoughtof refuge.
He tramped on with a slow wonder at the magnitude of his ownactivities. Here and there, individual buildings stimulated poignantmemories of the occasion that brought them forth. The sulphur plantassumed an aspect of derision. Beneath the huge dimensions of thehead-race he seemed to discern the obliterated canal over which St.Marys came to grief. Was he himself to be brought down by its titanicsuccessor? He stared up the lake, comparing himself with the voyageurwho had once floated out of this wide immensity to trade at St. Marys.He, too, had been trading at St. Marys. "Big magic!" old Shingwauk hadsaid, when his dark eyes beheld the works. Was it, after all, barelypossible they were nothing but magic?