Page images
PDF
EPUB

was not a pretty woman, except so far as youth and delicacy are pretty. Indeed, she was too thin, too pallid, and too careworn for beauty; but she had honest, kind blue eyes, and her lips were sensitive and daintily cut. She wore a decent, faded brown stuff gown and a jacket too thin for the bitter weather outside. At intervals, warm as the intolerable atmosphere of the car was, she shivered. Yet she pressed her face the closer to the pane, while a tremor of some strong emotion stirred every line.

"Something is the matter with that woman," said the man in black.

Asphyxiation!" retorted the stout man. "I feel it myself. I don't blame the railway for not running a Pullman on this train, but they might give us airthat's no expense to them !"

Meanwhile, the woman, who had heard every word, was thinking drearily to her self how the rich made troubles out of such trivial matters. "If that man with the fur collar once was in Pete's place," thought Nellie Bates, "he'd think this car was heaven! Oh, poor Pete! poor Pete!" The tears welled in her eyes, but she dashed them away, hoping no one saw the motion. "He told me I must be careful and look cheerful," she remembered, and struggled to force a smile at a small toddler who was trying to break his head against the chairs, as he staggered down the aisle.

The mother, a careworn farmer's wife, jerked him off his feet into her arms, and sank into a seat without a glance at Nellie. Nellie would have been glad had she sat beside her, and had moved her shabby valise off the next chair. with that purpose. "If somebody was here, I'd maybe get my mind off Pete for a minnit," she had thought, "and she didn't look so proud as the rest of the ladies in the car. Maybe she'd have been willing"--Nellie broke off with a sigh that almost made itself into a groan. She pressed her face closer to the glass, the mounting terror in her straining at her throat. She couldn't see anything, and the terrible shrieking pound of the wheels tore every other sound to pieces. She tried to force her mind off the terror even if it flew back to old sorrows. She thought of their hard year in Fairport, of the "friend" to whom Pete had lent a hundred dollars once, be

cause he was likely to lose his home that he was buying on the installment plan; and it was when Pete was going to get married, too, and he had it saved up to buy the furniture. She had money saved, too, for she had been a "second girl" for three years; and when Pete told her he'd have to wait before they were married, and felt so bad, she showed him her savings-bank book, and how proud he was of her! Well, there was one thing, Pete and she had never had any mean times; there never was such a kind man as Pete; and they were so happy till the plowworks shut down and Pete went to Fairport, hearing of a job there. But there wasn't any job in the plow-works, so he went into the steel-mill and got a job there; and they saved a bit of money and bought the little shelter in Fairport. She shut her eyes and seemed to see the little room on which they had spent so much time. There was the table Pete made himself, borrowing Johnny Durgan's tools. And she had felt so cross at Johnny because he came in upon the table proudly displayed in the center of the room and laughed and hollered out, "Say, Pete, what makes your fine table so pigeontoed?" But the legs did turn in a little, though that didn't make it the least bit worse to stand. The money for the brass lamp she made by going out to help a lady with a dinner. The curtains were so pretty, too. And now everything was gone, and the baby was dead, and Peteshe choked down the sob in her throat. If only there was some one she could ask to help her! At this thought she looked at the people on the chairs. The farmer's wife had given the child a large brown cooky, and he was making a depressing spectacle of himself without let or hindrance, while she read from the pile of books that the newsboy had deposited on the chair in front of her. Nellie did not dare address her. Neither did she dare speak to the stout lady in a wonderful black velvet hat, magnificent with plumes and crimson roses. This personage had been assisted on to the train at a small station by two stout sons and the brake

man.

She had so many packages that she had called to the conductor: "You'll have to help me out, or I'll have to stay on the car all night;" and when the conductor laughed, and she laughed also, in

a mellow, musical peal, Nellie had gazed wistfully at her and almost determined to speak to her; but as she saw her wave the newsboy's nuts and candies and enticing gum sternly away, her heart failed her. And, certainly, she should not dare intrude on the peevish invalid smothered in his greatcoat, who swore at the porter for opening the ventilators; while those rich men on the chairs behind her only frightened her. No, the whole world was against poor people. The best of the rich people didn't care, and the mean rich people were just like the men in that picture Pete bought, called The Shipwreck, where the men were pushing and shoving the other men off a raft, and one poor little boy was just drifting off to drown. never had liked that picture; it gave her a bad dream once; but Pete bought it because of the beautiful gilt frame and its being only a dollar and sixty-nine cents, marked down from five dollars. Now, they were like those men on the raft; and the waters were over them.

She

Never in her whole hard-working, selfdenying life had Nellie hated other people, or grudged those who had better things and softer lives than she their great r riches; but at this moment her heart was hot with the unreasoning anger of pain. "I'd be better off, and Pete'd be better off, if we'd stole and cheated; it ain't any better than stealing and cheating they've done to us!" Thus she thought bitterly; straining her ears for some other sound than the rumble of the train and the incessant pound of the trucks. The talk of the two men behind came to her, and she tried to listen. She felt that she could not much longer control her fears; and Pete had warned her to look cheerful.

"They talk about the workingman suffering -it was Thorne who was speaking" and there's no question, the workingman out of a job is suffering like the mischief. The workingman with a job, a steady job, never was so well off, for his wages haven't been reduced in anything like the proportion of other things. But the trouble is, the man with a job is often working eight hours or halftime. He'd be better off if he were working for less wages and working full time. The worst of the situation to my mind is that, low as manufacturing products are, they will have to come lower yet to reach

the level of the agricultural products. Yet the workingmen would fight that."

"You see," said the other, "they naturally fight a reduction because it is so hard to raise wages again."

"And right they are, usually," said Thorne, wondering casually whether that little woman in front really had turned her head side wise to listen; she might be a workingman's wife by her appearance-a workingman out of a job. "I say they are right when the cause is a transient one, a mere tumble-and-get-up-again drop in prices; but when the trouble is a perma nent reason for depressing prices, then they aren't right, they are as wrong as possible! Look at the cruel irony of the situation!

Here are our socialist friends howling the roof off because labor doesn't get the fair share of its product. Marx, you know, wasn't too modest; he claimed that labor ought to have all the product. Interest was the crime of the centuries. Well, to-day, in every business-and the Lord knows there are enough of them— that isn't more than paying expenses, or that is running at a loss, labor is getting it all! And the more labor gets, the worse the times are, and the worse labor really is off. I tell you, David, we're partners; and we can't cheat our partners and wreck a business and make money in the end. Not often. And to-day the manufacturer and the merchant and the retail man are catching as bad a blow as the workingman; and the capitalist, the fellow with money to lend, is getting it worst of all and is the sickest of the crowd. Think of mortgages; even farm lands in good, honest, middle Western States are shriveled all up, and stocks and bondsoh, we're all catching it, this storm. But I believe the manufacturer is the hardest hit of the lot. If I ever pull through this year and get to a time when I don't have to lie awake night thinking how I can meet the competition of the fellows who have sliced off wages, without slicing mine, and don't dream of the faces of men we have to turn off when they are only seeking work, and can run my shops on full time with good wages-whew! I shall go down on my uninitiated knees and thank the good Lord, and promise to try to be a better man! You needn't laugh, you cynical clergyman !"

"I'm not a clergyman, I'm only a min

ister," returned the man that he called David, "and I assure you that in my soul I am very far from laughing-it's only your grotesque form of earnestness, Thorne. Yes, I suspect that reducing wages is a painful thing, light as some people make of it."

"Did you take the man's name?" said the minister.

[ocr errors]

"Yes; his name was Peter Bates". the woman shut her lips a little t ghtervery decent fellow and a good workman; machinist, not a regular iron workerhelped about repairing the rolls. I took the pains to go around to his address, but I had to go out of town that night, and it was a week before I got back; and, do you believe, the poor beggar had been sold out in the meanwhite. He had a little three-roomed house, owned it himself, on one of the streets the city has just paved with brick; and the taxes came to more than the poor little place was worth, so they lost it; and as they had put a chattel mortgage on the furniture to enable them to pay up clean on the house, it did look bad for the poor creatures. But they were gone, and I couldn't find them."

"Painful! It's like drawing teeth to a man who has a human heart in him; and most manufacturers haven't hearts of stone, though I admit the most of us don't see as much as we ought of our men and don't keep enough in touch with them. But I'll tell you something as bad if not worse than reducing wages-that is, to have to reduce your force. I had to. It was sickening. The worst of it was I had to drop into the office at the bad time, and hear one man talking to our superintendent. We laid off the unmarried men and a few of the younger married men. This man was a young fellow; he didn't look much more than a boy, but he was married. But Balcom told me he was one of the new men. I over"Looked like that to me, but they heard him, with that pitiful attempt at argued that the value of the property nonchalance they always make, you know, would be increased by the pavement. saying to Balcom, 'Say, I wouldn't like Seems to me it was rather like throwing to have it generally known, but if you'd a pay me a dollar a day, I'd be willing to stay for a while;' and, as Balcom shook his head, the poor fellow's voice changed in a queer kind of a way, with a break in it, and a kind of quiver all over his face, for all the world like a child's, and says he, quickly, 'If you jest keep me on two weeks longer my baby's dead and my wife's terrible sick I wanted to chip in and get near enough to tip the wink to Balcom; but that moment somebody fell on me with a telegram, and when I came back the poor fellow was gone. I asked Balcom, and he said he couldn't keep him on, but he put him first on the list when we take on more men. But, confound it! I can't get the look of that man's back out of my head; his shoulders had such look of dejection, and his trousers had been patched in so many places, and so neatly --so blamed neatly. I don't know why that should have made me pity him more, but it did."

"But that was unjust on the part of the city; it wasn't taxation, it was confiscation."

He had forgotten all about the woman in front, who was resting her head wearily on the chair; nevertheless, she heard every word. listening with an indescribable eagerness.

man into deep water who could not swim he'd learn to swim-if he didn't get drowned! But municipalities do queer things. Ours, besides frightening all the poor property-owners into fits, because several small property-owners actually have lost or will lose their holdings on account of the big tax, ran a brick pavement through a stone quarry; bless your soul, when they came to that stone roadbed they didn't turn a hair-just piled on the assessment onto the abutting property

which belonged to some one out of the State and was fair game-and ran their road straight through, quarried it out and laid a course of brick, as the specifications demanded-put a brick roadway on top of

the stone!"

"I call it atrocious-are we going to

stop?"

The train was jarring and making a shuddering purr as its speed slackened. Nellie threw up her head, clenching her fists unconsciously in a horrible fear. Why should they stop? She could see through the blurred windows only a winter-stung prairie, bare of any human sign except fences and dead corn-fields. She pressed her face closer to the pane

[merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors]

She turned her head. "If you please, sir," said she, her voice trembling in spite of her, "what time do we get to Kansas City?"

"Half-past nine, madam," answered Thorne, courteously.

Nellie caught her breath. There was no color to ebb out of her white face; but a blue shadow settled about her mouth. "I thought it would be sooner," she said. "Please, sir, how much is the fare to Kansas City from here?" "About six dollars, I think." She tried to speak, but could not keep her mouth from quivering.

"Haven't you bought your ticket?" said Thorne, kindly.

66

Yes, sir-oh yes, sir; it ain't for me." She slipped her hand under her collar and drew forth a gold locket, then from her left hand she pulled off a slender wedding-ring. "The ring's solid gold, sir," she said, her imploring eyes on his face; "the locket's jest plated, but the man said it would wear for twenty years, and it was a very stylish design. Will you would you give me six dollars for the two?"

Thorne drew back; she misunderstood his motion, and added, quickly, “If you will take them and lend me the money on them, I'll pay it back. I ain't quite exactly a stranger to you. My husband, Peter Bates

"Excuse me," interrupted Thorne; "I want to get up and come into your seat; will you permit me?" He had suited his ac ion to his words and was sitting in the next chair before the train stopped.

"Now," said he, "what do you want to sell your wedding-ring for; and isn't that hair in the locket?"

"Yes, sir; it's Pete's and-and Baby's. But I would take the hair out. I'll surely pay it back if you'll buy it; and if you'd give me the money now, so I could get the ticket."

"Whom do you want the ticket for?" "For Pete, sir." She spoke almost in a whisper.

"Is he stealing a ride?"

She looked at him in an agony.

[ocr errors]

"Don't be frightened; I won't give him away."

"Yes, sir; and it's getting so awful cold. I've got out every station to see he was all right, till he told me I mustn't they'd suspect something. I gave him some lunch; but it wasn't much, only what a neighbor lady gave me--a couple of biscuits and a sausage, and I'd ten cents I got him a cup of coffee with. You won't, please, say anything to the conductor 'bout it. We never did a cheating thing before, Pete or me; but Pete, when he lost his job with you, he couldn't git another, though he'd go every day with his shovel, that he bought, to the Street Commissioner; and before we lost our shelter, just like you said, sir, Pete he begged the Street Commissioner jest to give him work and let him work it out. It seemed like he ought to give him work when he'd paid taxes and when we got to pay such a big tax; but he said there was men in worse need than we. God knows how that could be, for Pete made the baby's coffin himself, when it died, and we--we couldn't even hire a covered carriage; but that's what he said. And it looked like we'd starve, when a friend of Pete's that he'd lent money to a good bit back, he got a job for Pete in Kansas City and sent him the money. And then Pete didn't know what to do. I was so weak with my sickness I couldn't wash, nor go out, nor I didn't know anybody where to go; and we knew we could go to his friend's for a day and get trusted, if we could only get to Kansas City. So Pete he told me not to worry, and he come back smiling and give me the ticket he'd bought, and he told me he'd fixed it he could ride free; and for me to not worry, he'd meet me in the Kansas City depot. And I did get on; but I got out to maybe catch a glimpse of him; and found how he was riding free!" Her words choked her; the blue eyes fixed on Thorne wavered and shrunk away.

"Where was he?"

"He was riding on the bumpers, sir— the third car back-"

The chair that held the stout lady in the plumed hat suddenly whirled round. "Do you mean to tell me that your husband's outside, in this sleet, riding on the trucks, and that's what's made you get out at 'most every station and act like you

have? I thought, twice, you were crying, but when I looked round you were pretending to be cheerful-"

"He told me I must look cheerful. Oh, Missis, you won't tell on him-"

The stout lady turned on Thorne: "Are you going to find the conductor and get that man off, or am I?”

"I think you would better let me," said Thorne. "Now, Mrs. Bates, don't worry any more; we'll have your husband here in a minute."

"Yes, don't you worry," added the minister, who had risen as well as Thorne. "We'll get him."

"You let me come in there," said the stout lady, with decision. "You look after him and I'll attend to her. And the quicker you are the better."

Anybody could see that the stout lady was a woman of power, accustomed to command. In her own village no doubt she was the President of the Woman's Club, a massive pillar of the church, and one to whom distress of any sort applied naturally for aid, and from whom it would take reproof with meekness.

Thorne and the minister did her bidding as readily as if they had been under her sway for years. They hurried out of the car. At the same moment, two or three men in other parts of the car, aroused by the stir, came forward; and the invalid in the greatcoat met them.

"What's the matter?" repeated the stout lady in a fine, sonorous voice that had often, in the Woman's Club, drowned a dozen shrill feminine pipes with its organ-like tones. "The matter is that, rather than leave his wife behind to starve alone, this woman's husband is riding on the trucks, clinging to them, half frozen, from Fairport to Kansas. City; and she's try ing to sell her wedding-ring to get a ticket for him!"

"And I'm taking up a collection," added the invalid, flinging a dollar into his own hat before he passed down the aisle.

"That's right, sir," exclaimed the stout lady, her own purse out with her word.

Nellie sat in a daze, relinquishing herself to the new guidance, with a faint comfort stealing like oil over her tumult of fears. But the train had stopped now, and her one overwhelming emotion was the dread lest Pete should not have been

able to keep his hold. Yet, even through her terror, a perception of the kindness of all these people, whom she had thought so far from kind, was threading its way to her bewildered soul.

She saw the woman with the child slip a piece of silver into the hat before she came across the aisle, satchel in hand.

66

'Say, I heard it all," she cried. "I've got some luncheon here and some coffee, and I've got a tin cup, and I'm going to set it right on the coals and warm it for you. Do you like your coffee pretty sweet?"

"I can't eat," said Nellie, "I'mthere's something in my throat! Oh, do you think he's helt on ?"

"Of course he's held on," said the lady in the hat, firmly. "We should have bumped if he hadn't. I know you can't eat; but you can drink. And he'll be wanting some good hot drink-that's the best thing you can do! And this lady here"-calmly impressing a young girl who had come down the aisle to join the little crowd clustered about the seat"this lady, here, will mind your little girl while you're doing it!"

"Oh, you're so kind!" Nellie stammered; and then something seemed to break in her throat, and she burst into

tears.

The woman beside her wrapped a strong, kind arm about her. "There, there," she soothed; "you don't want him to find you crying!"

Nellie strangled her sobs instantly; and if anything had been needed (which it was not) to clutch the grip of the stout lady's will on the obedience of the passengers in that car, this proof of capacity would have done the trick.

"It's only because you-you are all so awful good and kind, and—and we thought there wasn't no more kind folks in the world," sobbed Nellie, almost breaking down again.

"Folks are kind enough if they only know," said the stout lady, in her assured manner. Now, you look cheerful, for—”

66

But even the stout lady's cheerful voice halted in a thrill of fear at the sight of Thorne's compassionate face in the doorway and the grave faces behind him; Nellie staggered to her feet with a dreadful face of anticipation. But it was hardly a second, hardly the smother of a heart-beat, before her companion's voice

« PreviousContinue »