Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 4, 1922 — page 93: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE NIGHT SHIFT. ‘All right,” said Belle; ‘“‘ then we can start with that. But first, your men would rather fight than work; they would rather work than lay idle; they would rather have one big fight than a lot of little ones.” “ Coorse warkin’ is business, whiles a fight is fun.” Davies knew hard-rock psy- chology. “ Well,” said Belle, “that is a chance that I will have to take. Now, I'll tell you what you are to do: You send a message tto Kowalski; tell him that the town of Ho- bart isn’t big enough to hold you both. Only, you don’t believe this should make trouble between miners and smeltermen. Man to man, you offer to fight it out with him—and the man that gets the worst of it leaves the town. He is to hold his men quiet, and you'll do the same. He’s got to take that, or leave it alone. And if he should happen to get the best of it—” Davies raised straightly from his chair; on his face was an air of terrible injury. ‘‘ Happen ee’d get the best o’t—Ah’d be domned glad t’ leave th’ toon myse’n— Ah’m a mon, lass, gin Ah ha’ a’ crackit arm—”’ _ “Not that I think he has any chance for that,” Belle added graciously. ‘ An’ gin Ah canna put ’im aht,” growled Davies, “ this toon will na be healthy for ‘Kowalski nor for ony smeltermon!” “At any rate,” said Belle, “ that would make one big fight, and have it finished.” Davies looked at her darkly, but could dis- cern no hidden imputation of his prowess. “Of course,”’ she added, ‘if he should re- fuse to fight—” “ Fe’ll fight,” said Davies. ‘ Ee’ll need t’ fight gin ’ee stands*oop t’ me!” “ But if he should refuse,” said Belle thoughtfully, “or if he does fight and gets licked—or, anyway—he’ll have the worst of it; and there’ll be no further trouble among the men.” Only then the full nature of Belle’s strategy began to dawn on Davies; his blue eyes sparkled with the flavor of the thing. “¢'Whins!”’ he chuckled. walski’s in a hole! Ye ha’ a heid, Belle, lass, Ah’ll gi’ ye thot!” “We need one, Dave, between the two of us.” And now, having gained her point, “In ony case Ko-— 408 wily Belle could afford to be kind. The next question was asked when she had come around the table and held Davies great blond head between her hands. ‘‘ Then it’s agreed you'll try to hold your men?” “ Ah’'ll try,” promised Davies. “ Ah’ll do more nor try—Ah’ll hold ’em gin Ah ha’ t’ lick ’em a’ myse’n. Ah’ll na spoil ma own hand wi’ Kowalski!” So far Davies saw; no further now. It was just as well for his own peace of mind that the full measure of Belle’s scheming to keep the peace—even while she seemed to foster war—hatched in her feminine brain for the better protection of her man, was not apparent even yet to Davies. It was Belle’s intention it should not be so, not now, or at any future time. Within the hour grave conference was held at Hugh McGregor’s cabin, the roll- call showing Hugh himself, Hopewell Davies, Limpy MacVeigh, who just hap- pened to be there, and William, who lis- tened, and said never a word. It is to be remembered that although every one in Hobart knew now that Willy ” was “ol”? man Biddle’s son,” in this talk of feud and war between these laboring elements, even though in the last contingency company property might be threatened with some loss, neither Hugh nor Davies thought of him as being other than a miner like themselves. Perhaps on this occasion William himself had no other thought, which goes to show the progress he had made. “So,” said Hugh, “ you’re sure the hun- © kies are on the warpath right?” '“ They are,” said Limpy. “I’ve been speirin’ round. That deil, Kowalski, he’s been talkin’ to ’em—the auld tales aboot the hoistin’ accidents an’ a’—an’ they’re feert to death an’ wild at the same time— wi’ oceans o’ drink tae keep their spirits high. Hell wull be a-poppin’ when th’ nicht comes doon, if na before. They’ll follow like sheepies if Kowalski gi’es the word. ’T will na be clean fichtin’, but murder run- nin’ fou’ wi’ a stick o’ giant in each hand,” “* How about your miners?” Hugh asked Davies. “ This begins to look dangerous.” COmMiCLMooks.Gonmn