Hal went out on the street again. It was the hour which would have been sunset in a level region; the tops of the mountains were touched with a purple light, and the air was fresh and chill with early fall. Down the darkening streets he saw a gathering of men; there was shouting, and people running towards the place, so he hurried up, with the thought in his mind, “What's the matter now?” There were perhaps a hundred men crying out, their voices mingling like the sound of waves on the sea. He could make out words: “Go on! Go on! We've had enough of it! Hurrah!” “What's happened?” he asked, of some one on the outskirts; and the man, recognising him, raised a cry which ran through the throng: “Joe Smith! He's the boy for us! Come in here, Joe! Give us a speech!”
But even while Hal was asking questions, trying to get the situation clear, other shouts had drowned out his name. “We've had enough of them walking over us!” And somebody cried, more loudly, “Tell us about it! Tell it again! Go on!”
A man was standing upon the steps of a building at one side. Hal stared in amazement; it was Tim Rafferty. Of all people in the world—Tim, the light-hearted and simple, Tim of the laughing face and the merry Irish blue eyes! Now his sandy hair was tousled and his features distorted with rage. “Him near dead!” he yelled. “Him with his voice gone, and couldn't move his hand! Eleven years he's slaved for them, and near killed in an accident that's their own fault—every man in this crowd knows it's their own fault, by God!”
“Sure thing! You're right!” cried a chorus of voices “Tell it all!”
“They give him twenty-five dollars and his hospital expenses—and what'll his hospital expenses be? They'll have him out on the street again before he's able to stand. You know that—they done it to Pete Cullen!”
“You bet they did!”
“Them damned lawyers in there—gettin' 'em to sign papers when they don't know what they're doin'. An' me that might help him can't get near! By Christ, I say it's too much! Are we slaves, or are we dogs, that we have to stand such things?”
“We'll stand no more of it!” shouted one. “We'll go in there and see to it ourselves!”
“Come on!” shouted another. “To hell with their gunmen!”
Hal pushed his way into the crowd. “Tim!” he cried. “How do you know this?”
“There's a fellow in there s............