_ CHAPTER XIII. MR. UNDERWOOD "STRIKES" FIRST
The ensuing days were filled with work demanding close attention and concentration of thought, but often in the long, cool twilight, while Darrell rested from his day's work before entering upon the night's study, he recalled his visit to The Pines with a degree of pleasure hitherto unknown. He had found Kate Underwood far different from his anticipations, though just what his anticipations had been he did not stop to define. There was at times a womanly grace and dignity in her bearing which he would have expected from her portrait and which he admired, but what especially attracted him was her utter lack of affectation or self-consciousness. She was as unconscious as a child; her sympathy towards himself and her pleasant familiarity with him were those of a warm-hearted, winsome child.
He liked best to recall her as she looked that evening seated by the fireside: the childish pose, the graceful outlines of her form silhouetted against the light; the dreamy eyes, with their long golden lashes curling upward; the lips parted in a half smile, and the gleam of the firelight on her hair. But it was always as a child that he recalled her, and the thought that to himself, or to any other, she could be aught else never occurred to him. Of young Whitcomb's love for her, of course, he had no recollection, nor had it ever been mentioned in his hearing since his illness.
Day by day the work at the camp increased, and there also began to be indications of an approaching outbreak among the men. The union boarding-house was nearing completion; it was rumored that it would be ready for occupancy within a week or ten days; the walking delegates from the union could be frequently seen loitering about the camp, especially when the changes in shifts were made, waiting to get word with the men, and it was nothing uncommon to see occasional groups of the men engaged in argument, which suddenly broke off at the appearance of Darrell, or of Hathaway, the superintendent.
So engrossed was Mr. Underwood with the arrangement of details for the inauguration of the new firm of Underwood & Walcott that he was unable to be at the camp that week. On Saturday afternoon Darrell, having learned that Hathaway was to be gone over Sunday, and believing it best under existing circumstances not to leave the camp, sent Mr. Underwood a message to that effect, and also informing him of the status of affairs there.
Early the following week Mr. Underwood made his appearance at the camp, and if the union bosses had entertained any hope of effecting a compromise with the owner of Camp Bird, as it was known, such hope must have been blasted upon mere sight of that gentleman's face upon his arrival. Darrell himself could scarcely restrain a smile of amusement as they met. Mr. Underwood fairly bristled with defiance, and, after the briefest kind of a greeting, started to make his usual rounds of the camp. He stopped abruptly, fumbled in his pocket for an instant, then, handing a dainty envelope to Darrell, hastened on without a word. Darrell saw smiles exchanged among the men, but he preserved the utmost gravity until, having reached his desk, he opened and read the little note. It contained merely a few pleasant lines from Kate, expressing disappointment at his failure to come to The Pines on the preceding Saturday, and reminding him of his promise concerning the violin; but the postscript, which in true feminine style comprised the real gist of the note, made him smile audibly. It ran:
"Papa has donned his paint and feathers this morning and is
evidently starting out on the war-path. I haven't an idea whose
scalps he intends taking, but hope you will at least preserve your
own intact."
At dinner Mr. Underwood maintained an ominous silence, replying in monosyllables to any question or remark addressed to him. He soon left the table, and Darrell did not see him again till late in the afternoon, when he entered the laboratory. A glance at the set lines of his face told Darrell as plainly as words that his line of action was fully determined upon, and that it would be as fixed and unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians.
"I am going home now," he announced briefly, in reply to Darrell's somewhat questioning look; "I'll be back here the last of the week."
"What do you think of the outlook, Mr. Underwood?" Darrell inquired.
"It is about what I expected. I have seen all the men. They are, as I supposed, under the thumb of the union bosses. A few of them realize that the whole proposition is unreasonable and absurd, and they don't want to go out, but they don't dare say so above their breath, and they don't dare disobey orders, because they are owned, body and soul, by the union."
"Have any of the leaders tried to make terms?"
"I met one of their 'walking delegates' this morning," said Mr. Underwood, with scornful emphasis; "I told him to 'walk' himself out of the camp or I'd boot him out; and he walked!"
Darrell laughed. Mr. Underwood continued: "The boarding-house opens on Thursday; on next Monday every man not enrolled in that institution will be ordered out."
"It's to be a strike then, sure thing, is it?" Darrell asked.
"Yes, there'll be a strike," Mr. Underwood answered, grimly, while a quick gleam shot across his face; "but remember one thing," he added, as he turned to leave the room, "no man ever yet got the drop or the first blow on me!"
Matters continued about the same at the camp. On Friday favorable reports concerning the new boarding-house began to be circulated, brought the preceding evening by miners from another camp. Some of the men looked sullen and defiant, others only painfully self-conscious, in the presence of Darrell and the superintendent, but it was evident that the crisis was approaching.
Late Friday night a horseman dismounted silently before the door of the office building and Mr. Underwood walked quietly into Darrell's room.
"How's the new hotel? Overrun with boarders?" he asked, as he seated himself, paying little attention to Darrell's exclamation of surprise.
"Chapman's men--about fifty in all--are the only ones there at present."
"Chapman!" ejaculated Mr. Underwood; "what is Chapman doing? He agreed to stand in with the rest of us on this thing!"
"He told Hathaway this morning he was only doing it for experiment. The boarding-house is located near his claims, you know, and he has comparatively few men. So he said he didn't mind trying it for a month or so."
"Confound him! I'll make it the dearest experiment ever he tried," said Mr. Underwood, wrathfully; "he was in our office the other day trying to negotiate a loan for twenty-five thousand dollars that he said he had got to have within ten days or go to the wall. I'll see that he doesn't get it anywhere about here unless he stands by his word with us."
After further conversation Mr. Underwood went out, saying he had a little business about the camp to attend to. He returned in the course of an hour, and Darrell heard him holding a long consultation with Hathaway before he retired for the night.
The following morning the mill men of the camp, on going to their work, were astonished to find the mill closed and silent, while fastened on the great doors was a large placard which read as follows:
NOTICE.
The entire mining and milling plant of Camp Bird is closed down for
an indefinite period. All employees are requested to call at the
superintendent's office and receive their wages up to and including
Saturday, the 10th inst.
D. K. UNDERWOOD.
The miners found the hoist-house and the various shaft-houses closed and deserted, with notices similar to the above posted on their doors.
Darrell, upon going to breakfast, learned that Mr. Underwood and the superintendent had breakfasted at an early hour. A little later, on his way to the mill, he observed groups of men here and there, some standing, some moving in the direction of the office, but gave the matter no particular thought until he reached the mill and was himself confronted by the placard. As he read the notice and recalled the groups of idlers, certain remarks made by Mr. Underwood came to his mind, and he seemed struck by the humorous side of the situation.
"The old gentleman seems to have got the 'drop' on them, all right!" he said to himself, as, with an amused smile, he walked past the mill and out in the direction of the hoist. The ore-bins were closed and locked, the tram-cars stood empty on their tracks, the hoisting engine was still, the hoist-house and shaft-houses deserted. After the ceaseless noise and activity to which he had become accustomed at the camp the silence seemed oppressive, and he turned and retraced his steps to the office.
A crowd of men was gathered outside the office building. In single file they passed into the office to the superintendent's window, received their money silently, in almost every instance without comment or question, and passed out again. Once outside, however, there they remained, their number constantly augmented by new arrivals, for the men on the night shift had been aroused by their comrades and were now streaming down from the bunk-houses. A few laughed and joked, some looked sullen, some troubled and anxious, but all remained packed about the building, quiet, undemonstrative, and mute as dumb brutes as to their reason for staying there. They were all prepared to march boldly out of the mill and mines on the following Monday, on a strike, in obedience to orders; even to resort to violence in defence of their so-called "rights" if so ordered, but Mr. Underwood's sudden move had disarmed them; there had been no opportunity for a conference with their leaders, with the result that they acted more in accordance with their own individual instincts, and the loss of work for which they would have cared little in the event of a strike was now uppermost in their minds.
They eyed Darrell furtively and curiously, making way for him as he entered the building, but still they waited. For a few moments Darrell watched the scene, then he passed through the office into the room beyond, where he found Mr. Underwood engaged in sorting and filing papers. The latter looked up with a grim smile:
"Been down to the mill?"
"Oh, yes," Darrell answered, laughing; "I went to work as usual, only to find the door shut in my face, the same as the rest."
"H'm! What do you think of the 'strike' now?"
"I think you are making them swallow their own medicine, but I don't see why you need give me a dose of it; I haven't threatened to strike."
Mr. Underwood's eyes twinkled shrewdly as he replied, "You had better go out there and get your pay along with the rest, and then go to your room and pack up. You may not be needed at the mill again for the next six months."
"Will it be as serious as that, do you think?" Darrell inquired.
Before Mr. Underwood could reply the superintendent opened the office door hastily.
"Mr. Underwood," he said, "will you come out and speak to the men? They are all waiting outside and I can't drive them away; they say they won't stir till they've seen you."
With a look of annoyance Mr. Underwood rose and passed out into the office; Darrell, somewhat interested, followed.
"Well, boys," said Mr. Underwood, as he appeared in the doorway, "what do you want of me?"
"If you please, sir," said one man, evidently spokesman for the crowd, and whom Darrell at once recognized as Dan, the engineer,--"if you please, sir, we would like to know how long this shut-down is going to last."
"Can't tell," Mr. Underwood replied, shortly; "can't tell anything about it at present; it's indefinite."
"Well," persisted the man, "there's some of us as thought that mebbe 'twould only be till this 'ere trouble about the meals is settled, one way or t'other; and there's some as thought mebbe it hadn't nothing to do with that."
"Well?" said Mr. Underwood, impatiently.
"Well, sir," said Dan, lowering his voice a little and edging nearer Mr. Underwood, "you know as how the most of us was satisfied with things as they was, and didn't want no change and wouldn't have made no kick, only, you see, we had to, and we felt kinder anxious to know whether if this thing got settled some way and the camp opened up again, whether we could get back in our old places?"
"Dan," said Mr. Underwood, impressively, and speaking loudly enough for every man to hear, "there can be no settlement of this question except to have things go on under precisely the same terms and conditions as they've always gone; so none of your leaders need come to me for terms, for they won't get 'em. And as to opening up the mines and mill, I'll open them up whenever I get ready, not a day sooner or later; and when I do start up again, if you men have come to your senses by that time and are ready to come back on the same terms, all right; if not," he paused an instant, then added with emphasis, "just remember there'll be others, and plenty of 'em, too."
"Yes, sir; thank ye, sir," Dan answered, somewhat dubiously; then one and all moved slowly and mechanically away.
Mr. Underwood turned to Darrell. "Get your things together as soon as you can. I'm going to send down three or four of the teams after dinner, and they can take your things along. And here's the key to the mill; go over and pick out whatever you will want in the way of an assaying outfit, and have that taken down with the rest. There's no need of your going to the expense of buying an outfit just for temporary use."
By two o'clock scarcely a man remained at the camp. Mr. Underwood and Darrell were among the last to leave. Two faithful servants of Mr. Underwood's had arrived an hour or so before, who were to act as watchmen during the shut-down. Having taken them around the camp and given them the necessary instructions, Mr. Underwood then gave them the keys of the various buildings, saying, as he took his departure,--
"There's grub enough in the boarding-house to last you two for some time, but whenever there's anything needed, let me know. Bring over some beds from the bunk-house and make yourselves comfortable."
He climbed to a seat on one of the wagons, and, as they started, turned back to the watchmen for his parting admonition:
"Keep an eye on things, boys! You're both good shots; if you catch anybody prowling 'round here, day or night, wing him, boys, wing him!"
The teams then rattled noisily down the canyon road, Darrell, with Trix, bringing up the rear, feeling himself a sort of shuttlecock tossed to and fro by antagonistic forces in whose conflicts he personally had no part and no interest. However, he wasted no moments in useless regrets, but rode along in deep thought, planning for the uninterrupted pursuit of his studies amid the new and less favorable surroundings. Thus far he had met with unlooked-for success along the line of his researches and experiments, and each success but stimulated him to more diligent study.
On their arrival at Ophir, Mr. Underwood gave directions to have the assaying outfit taken to the rooms in the rear of his own offices, after which he and Darrell, with the remaining teams, proceeded in the direction of The Pines. Trix, on finding herself headed for home, quickened her steps to such a brisk pace that on reaching the long driveway Darrell was considerably in advance of the others. He had no sooner emerged from the pines into the open, in full view of the house, than Duke came bounding down the driveway to meet him, with every possible demonstration of joyous welcome. His loud barking brought the ladies to the door just as Darrell, having quickly dismounted and sent Trix to the stables, was running up the broad stairs to the veranda, the collie close at his side.
"Just look at Duke!" Kate Underwood exclaimed, shaking hands with Darrell; "and this is only the second time he has met you! You surely have won his heart, Mr. Darrell."
"You are the only person outside of Katherine he has ever condescended to notice," said Mrs. Dean, with a smile.
"I assure you I feel immensely flattered by his friendship," Darrell replied, caressing the collie; "the more so because I know it to be genuine."
"He won't so much as look at me," Mrs. Dean added.
"That is because you objected at first to having him here," said Kate; "he knows it, and he'll not forget it. But, Mr. Darrell, where is papa?"
"He will be here directly," Darrell answered, smiling as he suddenly recalled the little note within his pocket; "he is returning from the war-path with the trophies of victory."
Kate laughed and colored slightly. "Your own scalp has not suffered, at any rate," she said.
"But he has brought me back a captive; here he comes now!"
The wagon loaded with Darrell's belongings was just coming slowly into view, with Mr. Underwood on the seat beside the driver, the other teams having been sent to the stables by another route.
Darrell noted the surprise depicted on the faces beside him, and, turning to Mrs. Dean, who stood next him, he said, in a low tone,--
"I have come back to the old home, mother, for a little while; is there room for me?"
Mrs. Dean looked at him steadily for an instant, while Kate ran to meet her father; then she replied, earnestly,--
"There will always be room in the old home for you. I only wish that I could hope it would always hold you." _