CHAPTER XI.

A TRAGEDY OF THE STRIKE.

“Stop where you are!”

This harsh order came from the barricade, and at the same time a number of heads appeared in view over the top of the heavy planks forming the stockade around the buildings of the cement works.

It did not need the sight of the Winchester rifles in the hands of these men to tell Hugh they must be the guards who were responsible for the shooting. He knew that in the main these men were hardened, desperate fellows, who possibly made it their business to hire out to companies needing such kind of help, for it always brought big pay, and a certain sort of excitement which they craved.

Of course Hugh obeyed immediately. He did not want to dare them to fire on him or take unnecessary chances simply because he was carrying a flag of truce. Besides that he was now close up to the heavy barricade, and in a position to do what little talking he had in view.

As he ran his eye along the top of the fence he concluded that there must be some sort of platform on the other side, built so that the guards could crouch behind the shelter, and at the same time be in a position to suddenly show themselves in case they felt that it was necessary to shoot.

Hugh also decided that the man near the middle must be the one whose gruff voice had uttered that significant command. Yes, there was that about him to designate the big man a leader. Even as Hugh was making up his mind as to this he heard once more the booming of the heavy voice that rasped unpleasantly on his ears.

“Now, who are you, and what d’ye want here, anyway?”

“We are Boy Scouts from Oakvale,” the boy immediately hastened to tell him, “and we happened to be in camp only a couple of miles away. When we heard the shooting we hurried over, thinking that we might be of some assistance, that’s all.”

“As how?” demanded the captain of the armed guards, harshly.

“Why, you see, all scouts are taught the first principles of taking care of the wounded; and prompt action in that way often saves a person from bleeding to death. Some of my comrades are busy right now over in the settlement, and we’ve come here to ask if you have any objections to our carrying off any others who have been hurt, and are lying helpless close by.”

Hugh said this without trying to give any offense. He could easily guess that he was speaking to a man with very little or no feeling in his heart for the ignorant foreigners who had rebelled against a reduction in pay, and were making trouble for the rich owner of the works. To this captain of the guards, they were only so many “dagoes” and he believed in treating them pretty much as animals.

Still the law might choose to investigate this shooting, and it would be apt to go hard with him if he were accused by these boys of having refused to let them assist those unfortunates who were bleeding to death.

The man was shrewd enough to see that, which fact doubtless made him answer Hugh as he did.

“Oh! so far as that goes none of us here have any objections to you carrying ’em off, and fixin’ ’em up the best way you can,” he called out, with a short, nervous laugh. “They would have it, and forced us to fire. It was our lives or theirs. They rushed the gate with guns and knives flourishing. We had to fire, or it would have been all over with the lot of us. You hear what I’m saying, don’t you, boy?”

Hugh thought it wise to repress his feelings of indignation. It would never do for him to boldly tell this man, that as far as he had seen, all of the wounded had been shot from the rear, which would indicate that they were in flight at the time of being injured.

“Yes, I hear you, sir,” the scout master replied; “and I thank you for giving us permission to do what we can for these poor fellows.”

“Oh, that’s all right, boy!” continued the man, “and I hope you’ll warn ’em not to come near this works again if they know what’s good for ’em. The men that are in here want to work at the wages the strikers refused. They threw up their jobs, and if they try to trespass on the company’s property, they do it at their peril. We’ve got the law back of us, and you tell ’em so, kid, hear that?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Hugh, though he certainly did not mean to be made the mouthpiece of this bragging guard leader.

“My men had orders to shoot low, and I don’t reckon that any of the poor fools have been killed; but it’s their own fault, anyway. When a mob of hundreds of wild men and women rush a little party of a dozen men, it ain’t no time for being over-particular where you send your lead. Go on, then, and do what you want. I’ve heard a heap about you scouts; let’s see if you do know anything about taking care of the wounded.”

Hugh waited for no more. With that permission he was satisfied none of them would be fired on by the guards in hiding behind the stockade.

Turning, he immediately hurried back to where he had left the other fellows. They had done what they could to staunch the blood that had been flowing from a nasty wound. The woman was weak and, Hugh feared, in a bad way.

As soon as the scout master arrived he examined to see what the others had done, for neither Bud nor Alec pretended to have had anything like the practical experience that Hugh did in this first aid to the injured business.

“We can better that some,” he told them, “and I think it would be wise to go at it before you try to carry her to the field hospital, where Arthur can get busy.”

Both of the other scouts were only too willing to do what they could; and making all the speed possible, Hugh soon had matters fixed to his satisfaction.

“Now, since you’ve already placed her on the stretcher, see if you can lift and carry her, boys. I’ll stay here and try to do what I can for the others.”

It required a considerable effort to raise the woman, for she was quite stocky in build, though short of stature, as is usually the case with natives of certain parts of Italy. Fortunately, however, Alec and Bud were sturdily constructed boys, and prided themselves on their muscular ability; so that they presently managed to stand erect, each holding an end of the poles forming the sides of the litter.

“Be as quick as you can, fellows!” Hugh called out after them as they started off. “If you feel too tired, send a couple of the others in your place.”

Immediately Hugh started to see what next could be done. He had never before been thrown in close contact with so much human suffering and misery, and it was little wonder that his heart throbbed with pity as he saw that there were still several more forms lying there on that terrible field where they had fallen.

One man seemed to be huddled up as though he might be actually dead. Hugh hardly dared look toward him, for up to that time the boy had never been brought face to face with the grim reality of death.

There were two others, however, who were moving, and toward these he hurried. One was holding himself up with his arms, and seemed to be anticipating relief. Perhaps he may have seen that the poor woman had been carried away on a stretcher; and he hoped for the same treatment himself. He looked from time to time in deadly fear toward the stockade from whence that murderous fire had leaped out, under which he had fallen.

It turned out that he was terribly injured about the legs. Hugh immediately jumped to the conclusion that scattering buckshot fired from a riot gun must have been responsible for those many ugly wounds. He remembered what the captain of the guards had said about giving orders to “shoot low”; and Hugh decided that this fact alone accounted for the many injuries to the lower extremities of the strikers.

He bent over the man and tried to see if there was anything that could be done then and there to help him. Finding that none of his wounds looked very serious, and deciding that fright and the sight of blood combined to make him weak, Hugh felt that he could leave him and hurry on to the next victim.

“They will be back soon and carry you to the shacks,” he told the man, at the same time giving him a reassuring nod and a smile, which doubtless did more to buoy up his spirits than any spoken words, which he may not have understood at all.

The next man, who lay there on the ground groaning, Hugh found to be in a serious way indeed. He had been shot in the back, though just how near the bullet had gone to a vital part could only be found out by a careful examination later on.

These boys were hardly fitted to undertake any such serious job as this. Their knowledge of surgery was confined to setting broken limbs or binding up wounds; they knew exactly how to go about stopping the flow of blood in case anyone happened to cut themselves with an ax or a knife; they could resuscitate a comrade who had come within an ace of being drowned; they could undertake to assuage the pain caused by colic or ptomaine poisoning, and all such things; but when they came upon a case where a bullet had passed through a man’s body, it was time to wait for the arrival of a regular surgeon.

Hugh now began to look anxiously for the return of the two scouts with the handy, if crude stretcher. He believed they had had ample time to go all the way to the foreign settlement and be well on the road back.

To his satisfaction he caught sight of them on the run; and evidently Alec and Bud did not mean to turn their office over to any of the others, for they had taken it upon themselves to return in person.

Hugh hardly knew which of the two men should be carried off first. They were both seriously hurt, and it was a toss-up which one needed attention more than the other.

So Hugh decided to send the man whose legs had been so badly peppered by the scattering buckshot. Arthur could do all that was necessary for him, whereas Hugh feared that the other man would have to wait until some help came from town. They could carry him to where he would not be lying in the glaring sunlight; so that he could be given a drink of water, or something to keep his strength up.

“Here, help me lift this man on your stretcher, boys,” said Hugh, as he beckoned them over.

“How about those other two we see yonder?” asked Alec.

“One is badly hurt, shot through the body somewhere,” replied the scout master; “and the other has not stirred, so far as I have seen.”

“Oh, my stars! do you think that he’s really dead?” asked Billy, who was not as rosy-cheeked as usual, Hugh noticed, though not wondering at all that this should be the case.

“I don’t know, but I’m afraid of the worst,” Hugh told him. “I haven’t been over to him so far, but expect to go as soon as you get started. Now, take hold, and be easy, boys, with this poor chap.”

The man groaned as they moved him, but he bravely tried to smile back when he saw Hugh nodding to him in that friendly and comforting way. Then the litter was once more raised with an effort, and away the burden-bearers went as fast as they could.

“Keep in step, both of you!” called out Hugh. “It makes the going a whole lot easier for you!”

After they were well on their way, Hugh cast a comprehensive glance around him. He heaved a genuine sigh of relief when he made sure of the fact that except for the striker who had been shot through the body, and the other still form, the open field seemed to be clear of all evidences of the harvest that had followed the sowing of the seed of strife.

The boy shut his teeth hard together. He disliked going over to find out the condition of that motionless, huddled figure; but duty was a thing Hugh Hardin never allowed himself to disregard, no matter what pangs it might bring in its train. So he started straight toward the object of his solicitude, determined to know the worst, no matter what the cost was to his feelings.