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Updated: June 28, 2025
But with all John's absorbing interest in his work and in the general industrial situation of Millsburgh, which under the growing influence of Jake Vodell was becoming every day more difficult and dangerous, the general manager could not escape the memories of that happy evening at the Martin cottage.
I shall have all Millsburgh so that not a wheel can turn anywhere. The mills the factories the builders the bakeries everything will be in our hands and then, my comrade, then!"
Upon the answer of John Ward's employees to the demands of the agitator for a sympathetic strike depended the success or failure of Jake Vodell's Millsburgh campaign. It was evening. The Interpreter was sitting in his wheel chair on the balcony porch with silent Billy not far away. Beyond the hills on the west the sky was faintly glowing in the last of the sun's light.
"John says everybody is expecting it. And Mr. McIver is so sure that he is already preparing for it at his factory. He says it will be the worst industrial war that Millsburgh has ever experienced that it must be a fight to the finish this time that nothing but starvation will bring the working classes to their senses." "Yes," agreed the Interpreter, thoughtfully, "McIver would say just that.
You appeal to the same class intolerance and hatred. You and Jake Vodell have together brought about this industrial war in Millsburgh. The community itself labor unions and business men alike is responsible for tolerating the imperialism that you and this alien agitator, in opposition to each other, advocate. The community is paying the price." The factory owner flushed.
When the Interpreter was silent, his guest demanded, harshly, "They are all right, heh? You are a friend to the workingman? Tell me, is it so?" The old basket maker spoke with quiet dignity. "For twenty-five years Millsburgh has been my home, and the Millsburgh people have been my friends. You, sir, have been here less than a month; I have known you but a few minutes."
Pete Martin and Charlie, the ringleaders of the Mill workers' union, are only his active lieutenants. I haven't a doubt but that he is responsible for this agitator Jake Vodell's coming to Millsburgh. That miserable shack on the cliff is the real headquarters of labor in this part of the country. Your Interpreter is a fine one for me to go to for advice.
At a meeting of the Millsburgh Manufacturing Association, McIver endeavored to pledge the organization to a concerted effort against the various unions of their workmen. John Ward refused to enter into any such alliance against the workmen, and branded McIver's plan as being in spirit and purpose identical with the schemes of Jake Vodell.
Meanwhile, the efforts of the police to find the assassin were fruitless. The most careful search revealed nothing in the nature of a clew. Millsburgh had been very proud of Captain Martin and the honors he had won in France, as Millsburgh was proud of Adam Ward and his success only with a different pride.
"But it is all very different now, John," said Charlie, slowly. "Millsburgh is not France and the Mill is not the United States Army." "No," returned John, "and yet there is not such a lot of difference, when you come to think it out." "We can't disguise the facts," said Captain Martin stubbornly. "We are not going to disguise anything," retorted John.
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