The Iron Boys as Foremen; or, Heading the Diamond Drill Shift

  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE HERO OF THE BRIDGE

  OLSEN leaped in through the opening, kicking the pieces of the wreckeddoor that interfered with his passage from his path.

  Bob darted by him. They ran into the front room, which, in thisinstance, was the parlor, but found it vacant. Next Jarvis dived intothe dining room.

  Allison, a heavy-jowled, powerful man, was standing at bay behind thedining-room table. His family were nowhere in sight. The place wassqualid and poverty was in evidence everywhere.

  "We are looking for Steve Rush. Where is he?" announced Bob.

  "Get out of my house! I'll have you both sent to jail, you scoundrels!"raged Allison.

  "I tell you, Rush came to your house last night, and he has not beenseen since. We want him; we want him quick! It will be the worse for youif you don't produce him or tell us where we shall find him."

  "I don't know anything about your fool friend. I----"

  Bob had the miner by the throat. Allison hurled him aside, grabbing up achair as he did so.

  Olsen uttered a yell and charged the miner. The latter made a pass atthe Icelander with the heavy dining-room chair. Segunder wrenched itfrom his hands. Then he brought the offending chair down on the floorwith a terrific crash, smashing it into kindling wood.

  "I want boy Rush!" he demanded.

  "You get out of my house, or I'll bore you full of holes!" yelled theminer, at the same time whipping out a knife.

  With a well-directed kick Segunder sent the table between them crashingto one side. With a leap he landed upon Allison, smiting him a powerfulblow on the side of the head. Allison went down as a matter of course.

  Olsen calmly stooped over, picked the fellow up and threw him out of thewindow, Allison carrying the frame and the glass with him.

  "He one bad man," grinned the Icelander. "I smash house down."

  Olsen began to destroy the furniture, what there was of it, until Jarvisrestrained him.

  "Don't do that, Segunder. We want to find Steve. I believe he is heresomewhere. Hark--what's that?"

  Olsen listened.

  "I heard someone calling, Segunder."

  "Hello!"

  The voice sounded faint and far away.

  "Is that you, Steve?"

  "Yes."

  "Where are you?"

  "I am here."

  "Where is here?"

  "Down cellar. I can't get out. I think there must be a trap somewhere,if you can find it."

  "We'll find it. Olsen, he's down below us. If we don't find the cellaropening I'll let you try your hand at breaking a hole in the floor,"proposed Bob.

  Both began searching for the opening. Bob found it, but there was noring in the trap and Olsen solved the problem of getting the place openby kicking a hole in the trap, then finally demolishing it altogether.

  "Where's the stairs?" cried Jarvis.

  "Pull stairs up," answered the Icelander.

  Sure enough, such was the case. A short flight of clumsily constructedstairs had been pulled up to the floor and secured by a rope that ranoff to another part of the cellar. Upon investigation they found thatthis rope led up to another trap in the dining room, from where the foodthat Steve had found must in all probability have been lowered.

  Olsen did not wait for the stairs to be lowered but squeezed down intothe hole, dropping to the cellar bottom. Steve ran to him and the bigfellow hugged the boy delightedly.

  "I get. I smash big boss."

  "What does he mean, Bob?"

  "He means that he gave Cavard an awful beating. But it was a dandyfight, Steve. How I wish you could have seen it!"

  Steve Rush heard all about the events that had occurred since he hadbeen taken prisoner the night before. In turn he related what hadhappened to himself. There was no direct evidence by which they couldconnect Cavard with Rush's capture, but the circumstantial evidence wasstrong. Later in the day Steve went to see the superintendent, and thetwo had a long talk.

  Nothing of moment occurred for several days after that. Cavard did notappear on the street for nearly a week after the battle, though hislieutenants were in conference with him at his home every day. Theleader had had a beating that he was not likely to forget during therest of his life. His rage was deep and murderous, and as he paced thefloor of his room he swore vengeance on the Iron Boys as well as onSegunder Olsen.

  An extremely cold winter was setting in. It was developing into one ofthe most severe seasons ever known on the iron range, and the sufferingof the families of the miners who were out of work had reached a seriousstage.

  The miners themselves were growing bitter against the bosses and moreturbulent. It had come to a point where it was not safe for a non-unionman to appear upon the street. He was in danger of his life if he didso.

  Steve believed that the men's turbulence was as much due to the subtleinfluence of Cavard as because of their families' sufferings. The armedguard about the mine shafts had been trebled, as it was feared that thestrikers might wreck some of the company's property. What seemed toenrage the men more than ever was the sight of the long trains of carsthat were carrying the ore from the dump pile and transferring it to thefurnaces in Ohio and in the east. The lakes being frozen over, the orewas conveyed all the way to the mills by rail, as is always the case inthe winter.

  Matters were approaching a crisis, as the officials of the miningcompany well realized. Mr. Penton believed, however, that he had enoughloyal men to hold the others in check and to protect the company'sproperty. Steve took a different view of the matter, but he saidnothing, as it was not fitting for him to suggest what should and whatshould not be done.

  Since the boy's capture he had set himself upon Cavard's trail with thefirm purpose of running the man down and exposing his perfidity. He knewa weak spot would sooner or later develop in the leader's defence, andwhen it did develop Steve Rush proposed to be on hand to break throughthe defence at that particular point.

  As soon as Cavard was able to be out he began meeting the men at thehall, encouraging them and goading them on in his subtle way by pointingout that the sufferings of their families were due to the graspingavarice of the bosses. A day or so after he got out Cavard made a tripto the Blair, an independent mine some ten miles up the valley. There hespent the day and part of the night.

  Steve did not learn of this until late in the evening. The informationcaused him to wonder what was going on up the valley. He had no doubtthat something would develop from that visit.

  "I ought to go up there and find out what is going on," he confided toBob.

  "Why don't you?"

  "I cannot leave here. Every loyal man is needed right here every minuteof the day and night. There is no telling at what moment trouble willbreak loose, and when it comes it is going to come thick and fast, if Iam any judge of men. The miners are getting desperate. They are going tobreak out, and with our handful of helpers we shall be powerless to stemthe tide."

  "I reckon you're right. When do you think it is coming?"

  "It is likely to occur at any minute now--to-night, to-morrow, any time.I believe it is a part of Cavard's game to have something like thatoccur."

  "I wish I'd let Segunder finish the fellow while he was about it. Hewould have killed the leader in a minute more."

  "Bob, how _can_ you say such a thing?" chided Rush.

  "Yes; I suppose it is rather a strong statement, but I don't love thatman Cavard one little bit."

  "Neither do I, but that is no excuse for wanting to see him killed. Wewill beat him at his own game, and with his own weapons if we can. Ifnot the company will have to get out of its present situation as best itcan."

  "I guess that will be the answer."

  On the following day Steve set an inquiry going in another direction,having enlisted the services of a man whom he and Bob had sent for fromthe city at their own expense. This man belonged to a private detectiveagency, and Steve had known him before coming
to the mines.

  There was a long conference, that night, at the house of one of theloyal miners, where the detective, Steve and Bob had gone that theymight not be observed. To have met in the boarding house would have beento arouse suspicion, for the strikers had spies in every place of thesort. Cavard saw to it that he was kept well-posted as to all that wasgoing on.

  The conference broke up at a late hour and the boys made their way homethrough back yards and across open lots in order to avoid meeting withstrikers. It was not that they were afraid, but they were acting thepart of prudence. They had set out to achieve by their own efforts whatthe company, with all its resources and money, had not been able toaccomplish, and that was to break the backbone of the strike.

  It was a giant's task, it seemed, for two youngsters to attempt, but theIron Boys were determined that it should be done.

  The next day dawned raw and blustering. The weather, however, did notkeep the strikers within doors. Groups were gathered on every corner,where, while stamping about to keep from freezing, they discussed thesituation. Shortly before noon there was a meeting at Liberty Hall. Ofcourse the Iron Boys were not present.

  When the men came away from that meeting a change had stolen over them.They had ceased their noisy threats. Their faces were sullen and theirwords were few.

  "Look out for trouble!" nodded Steve, as he observed the men from thewindow of a house across the way.

  "Yes; they are loaded for bear," agreed Bob.

  "Something has stirred them up. Probably Cavard has been talking tothem. That man is a fiend in human form. He handles them, makes them hisplaythings, all to serve his own selfish purposes."

  The boys came up with Mr. Penton, who was on his way to the mines fromhis office. Steve stepped up to him, touching his hat.

  "How are you, boys? I have just closed down the shafts for the rest ofthe day. I don't like the looks of things."

  "Neither do I, sir," answered Steve.

  "What is it that you have observed?" questioned the superintendent.

  "The men are loaded for trouble. Practically we are standing in a driftready to be fired, and when the powder goes off the roof of the drift islikely to fall down on our heads and finish us."

  "You are right, Rush. I have found your advice good. What would you doto cope with the situation, were you the superintendent?"

  The superintendent's eyes twinkled.

  "What would I do? Why, I'd take the situation by the nape of the neckand shake all the fight out of it. In the first place, if I did not haveenough men to give the strikers all the fight they wanted, I would askthe authorities for protection. I believe our property will be destroyedif you don't place guards about the mines."

  "I am glad to hear you say what you have said," nodded Mr. Penton. "Ihave urged the sheriff to wire the governor to rush a company of militiahere, and the mining company has backed me up in the request. I disliketo do it, but I must protect our property. I presume it will excite themen to violence, and----"

  "The men cannot be much more excited than they already are, sir. Cavardhas worked them up to the exploding point. With an honest man at itshead, a miner's union might be made of real benefit to the men. It's toobad that they have fallen into the hands of Cavard."

  The boys went on up the street to their boarding house to dinner. Therewas little conversation at the meal, for every man felt that the calmbefore the storm was upon them.

  Shortly after one o'clock the men began strolling toward the "orebridge." This was a structure of steel and concrete that the company haderected across a mountain gorge, and over which the ore was carried bytrain to the lakes. The ore bridge was the key to the situation. Withoutit no ore could be shipped from either the Cousin Jack or the Red RockMines.

  By two o'clock there were more than a thousand men gathered in thevicinity of the bridge. They seemed impervious to the biting cold of thewinter's day. It was not apparent that the men had any particularpurpose in gathering about the bridge, but there was little doubt thattheir leader had put the thought in their minds at the noonday meeting,whether or not they realized that fact.

  Suddenly the men set up a cheer. Cavard, muffled to the ears in anexpensive fur coat, was seen approaching. He was shaking hands with themen right and left as he strolled on toward the bridge.

  The men began cheering. Somehow Cavard's appearance seemed to exert astrange influence over the miners. His sway over them was absolute.

  They began to shout for him to talk to them. Half a dozen men hoistedhim to a stump. The leader waved his cap.

  "Men, you are making a noble fight!" he shouted. "You will yet down thebosses and make them come to your terms. We've got them on the runalready. Their feet are on your necks and on the necks of your families,but you will throw the weight off, and when you do, there will be aterrible retribution. And what a little thing stands between you andthat retribution. For instance, men, that bridge there is the key to theore output. That represents the bosses. Of course we cannot interferewith their property, but that structure of steel and cement was madepossible by the sweat of your brows. It was you who mined the ore forthe steel from which the bridge was constructed. It was you who made itsbuilding a possibility. And now it rises up as if to mock you. Do notmisunderstand me; I warn you against violence, but there are limits toman's endurance, especially if that man have dependent upon him a wifeand children."

  A low murmur ran over the assemblage. The murmur increased in volumeuntil it became a roar.

  "Men, men; I beg of you to be calm!" shouted Cavard.

  "The bridge! The bridge!" thundered the multitude.

  "Down with the bridge!"

  "Down with the bosses!"

  The mob surged toward the structure as one man.

  "Dynamite! Get dynamite. We'll blow it up! We'll teach the bosses alesson that they won't forget!"

  Half a dozen men had started away on a run. After a time, amid theclamor and the shouting, these same six miners were seen crawling up theravine toward the bridge itself.

  "Look! Look!"

  The men above had seen them.

  "They're going to dynamite the bridge!"

  It was true. The great structure that meant so much to the miningcompany seemed doomed to destruction. The ground fairly shook with theroar that arose when those above discovered the purpose of theirfellows. Cavard had disappeared.

  At that moment a lad dashed through the mob and out on to the bridge,running along the ties a hundred feet in the air.

  "Stop! Back, every man of you!" he shouted. "It will be prison for yearsfor every man who has a hand in this affair! Call them off! Stop themwhile there is still time!"

  "Get off the bridge, unless you want to be blown to kingdom come!"roared the crowd.

  "Let him blow up! It's what he deserves."

  "If you destroy the bridge I shall go with it. That will be murder.Those men down there will be hanged for my death. Now, will you callthem off?"

  The mob hesitated.

  "_No!_"

  Every man of the hundreds took up the cry. Steve Rush stood calmly onthe bridge, his attention divided between the men creeping up the ravineand the mob on the surface. He held a piece of railroad iron in hishands, but this was the only weapon he had for his own defence, in casethe men should decide to rush upon him from the end of the structure.

  The dynamiters were nearing the danger spot. Just then a woman fairlyflew down the short incline that led to the bridge. She did not stop,but dashed full speed out to the bridge. Reaching it, she ran with allspeed to where Steve Rush was standing, exhorting the crowd and pleadingand threatening.

  "Miss Cavard!" he gasped. "You must not stay here. Run for your life.Don't you see what the men are going to do?"

  "Yes, I'll run, but I would rather stay. Here!"

  She thrust something toward Steve--something that she had been carryingconcealed under her long, black coat. Steve uttered an exclamation ofjoy. It was a rifle. Passing it quickly to him with a box of cartridges,t
he girl sped on across the bridge to the opposite side.

  None had seen the rifle change hands. Steve waited until she had reacheda place of safety; then he stooped over and pretended to pick the weaponup from the track. This time he made no effort to conceal it.

  "He's got a gun!" roared the miners.

  "Yes, and I'm going to use it," shouted the boy. "Call off yourdynamiters!"

  "Hurry! Fire the powder!" was the answer of the strikers.

  Rush stepped to the edge of the bridge and looked down. The men wereattaching the fuses to the sticks of dynamite as they ran.

  Steve raised the rifle, took careful aim and fired. The foremost mandropped his dangerous burden and uttered a yell. A ball had passedthrough his arm.

  "Back, you hounds; or I'll riddle every man of you."

  Once more the rifle spoke, but the bullet missed its mark. It had theeffect of stopping the man who was trying to reach the bridge to plantthe explosive and touch off the fuse.

  The dynamiters backed off. They had not bargained for this. The men onthe surface made a hostile movement toward Steve, whereupon he threw themuzzle of the rifle about, covering them

  "Come on; come on, if you want some of the same medicine!" he cried.

  Bang!

  A yell floated up from the mountain gorge. The Iron Boy had fired justin time to head off another man of that little party below. Now he keptmenacing them with his weapon. Now and then he would send a shot closeto them when he thought they were getting ready for another charge. Thiscontinued for fully half an hour, when the dynamiters drew back for aconsultation. A man was sent to the surface to urge the miners to rushthe bridge and throw the boy over. But the strikers up there had no mindto face his ready weapon at short range. Jeers, howls and cat-calls werehurled at the plucky boy who stood there in that wind-swept spot ahundred feet in the air with the temperature below zero, unmindful oftaunts, but alert and watchful.

  Five o'clock came, and he was still there. It was getting dark. A fewminutes more and it would be so dark that the men below would haveplenty of opportunity to carry out their desperate plan. Steve had sixcartridges left in his magazine chamber.

  He waited and watched. At last he could no longer see the bottom of thegorge. Aiming his weapon as nearly as he could judge at the spot wherehe had last seen the dynamiters, he began shooting at intervals, varyinghis aim somewhat with each shot. He hoped to hold them off.

  One more shell was left in the gun. Steve was making his last stand. Itwould be a matter of but a short time now before they would haveaccomplished their purpose.

  Suddenly a shout rent the air. There was a new note in it. It was not ashout of triumph, but of anger and alarm. The boy on the bridge did notunderstand it.

  "Run for it. It's the soldiers!" was the shout that was suddenly takenup and passed from lip to lip.

  "Hurrah!" shouted the lad.

  But he had not finished yet. He turned the rifle down into the darkgorge and pulled the trigger again. Whether he had hit anything or nothe did not know.

  "Look out for the soldiers!" bellowed a man, leaning over the edge ofthe precipice. "Run for it!"

  Steve was bounding toward the end of the bridge.

  The soldiers and the sheriff's deputies were coming up at a dog trot.

  "Shell the gorge down there. They're trying to dynamite the bridge!"Rush yelled.

  A moment more and a volley of bullets from the rifles of the guardsmenraked the depths of the gorge with a hot fire.

  The bridge was saved.