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Updated: May 4, 2025
There will be an attack made on those men at Riverley to-morrow which will melt them like an iceberg in Tartarus." Mr. Temple was not classical, and, of course, did not say Tartarus. Farnham was left alone. The reaction from the excitement of the last few hours was settling upon him. The glow of the fight and his success in it were dying away.
"Have you heard the news?" The man's face was flushed with pleasure at having something to tell "The firemen and stokers have all struck, and run their engines into the round-house at Riverley, five miles out. There won't be a train leave or come in for the present." "Is that all?" "No, that ain't a start. The Model Oil men have struck, and are all over the North End, shutting up the other shops.
Temple, at whose counting-room he had called, as usual, for news. Mr. Temple greeted him with a volley of exulting oaths. "It's all up. You know what I told you last night about the attack that was preparing on Riverley. I went out there myself, this forenoon. I knew some of the strikers, and I thought I would see if the would let me send my horse Blue Ruin through to Rochester to-morrow.
They're camped all along Delaware street, every man with a pair of revolvers and a musket." "You don't say so!" said the schneider, turning a shade more sallow. "I'd better telegraph my wife to come home." "I wouldn't hurry," was the impassive response. "You don't know where we'll be to-morrow. They have been drilling all day at Riverley, three thousand of 'em.
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