at finding herself arguing； pleading； appealing to several women in turn；
fluently； in the language of the industrial revolution。 Somebecause
she was an Americanexamined her with furtive curiosity； others
pretended not to understand； accelerating their pace。 She gained no
converts that morning； but one girl； pale； anemic with high cheek bones
evidently a Slavlistened to her intently。
〃I gotta right to work；〃 she said。
〃Not if others will starve because you work；〃 objected Janet。
〃If I don't work I starve；〃 said the girl。
〃No； the Committee will take care of youthere will be food for all。
How much do you get now？〃
〃Four dollar and a half。〃
〃You starve now；〃 Janet declared contemptuously。 〃The quicker you join
us； the sooner you'll get a living wage。〃
The girl was not quite convinced。 She stood for a while undecided； and
then ran abruptly off in the direction of West Street。 Janet sought for
others； but they had ceased coming； only the scattered； prowling
picketers remained。
Over the black rim of the Clarendon Mill to the eastward the sky had
caught fire。 The sun had risen； the bells were ringing riotously；
resonantly in the clear； cold air。 Another working day had begun。
Janet； benumbed with cold； yet agitated and trembling because of her
unwonted experience of the morning； made her way back to Fillmore Street。
She was prepared to answer any questions her mother might ask； as they
ate their dismal breakfast； and Hannah asked no questions； she longed to
blurt out where she had been； to announce that she had cast her lot with
the strikers； the foreigners； to defend them and declare that these were
not to blame for the misfortunes of the family； but men like Ditmar and
the owners of the mills； the capitalists。 Her mother； she reflected
bitterly； had never once betrayed any concern as to her shattered
happiness。 But gradually； as from time to time she glanced covertly at
Hannah's face； her resentment gave way to apprehension。 Hannah did not
seem now even to be aware of her presence； this persistent apathy filled
her with a dread she did not dare to acknowledge。
〃Mother！〃 she cried at last。
Hannah started。 〃Have you finished？〃 she asked。
〃Yes。〃
〃You've b'en out in the cold； and you haven't eaten much。〃 Janet fought
back her tears。 〃Oh yes； I have；〃 she managed to reply； convinced of the
futility of speech； of all attempts to arouse her mother to a realization
of the situation。 Perhapsthough her heart contracted at the thought
perhaps it was a merciful thing！ But to live； day after day； in the
presence of that comfortless apathy！。。。 Later in the morning she went
out； to walk the streets； and again in the afternoon； and twice she
turned her face eastward； in the direction of the Franco…Belgian Hall。
Her courage failed her。 How would these foreigners and the strange
leaders who had come to organize them receive her； Ditmar's stenographer？
She would have to tell them she was Ditmar's stenographer； they would
find it out。 And now she was filled with doubts about Rolfe。 Had he
really thought she could be of use to them！ Around the Common； in front
of the City Hall men went about their affairs alertly； or stopped one
another to talk about the strike。 In Faber Street； indeed； an air of
suppressed excitement prevailed； newsboys were shouting out extras； but
business went on as though nothing had happened to disturb it。 There
was； however； the spectacle； unusual at this time of day； of operatives
mingling with the crowd； while policemen stood watchfully at the corners；
a company of soldiers marched by； drawing the people in silence to the
curb。 Janet scanned the faces of these idle operatives； they seemed for
the most part either calm or sullen； wanting the fire and passion of the
enthusiasts who had come out to picket in the early hours of the day； she
sought vainly for the Italian girl with whom she had made friends。
Despondency grew in her； a sense of isolation； of lacking any one； now；
to whom she might turn； and these feelings were intensified by the air of
confidence prevailing here。 The strike was crushed； injustice and wrong
had triumphedwould always triumph。 In front of the Banner office she
heard a man say to an acquaintance who had evidently just arrived in
town：
〃The Chippering？ Sure； that's running。 By to…morrow Ditmar'll have a
full force there。 Now that the militia has come； I guess we've got this
thing scotched。。。〃
Just how and when that order and confidence of Faber Street began to be
permeated by disquietude and alarm； Janet could not have said。 Something
was happening； somewhereor about to happen。 An obscure； apparently
telepathic process was at work。 People began to hurry westward； a few
had abandoned the sidewalk and were running； while other pedestrians；
more timid； were equally concerned to turn and hasten in the opposite
direction。 At the corner of West Street was gathering a crowd that each
moment grew larger and larger； despite the efforts of the police to
disperse it。 These were strikers； angry strikers。 They blocked the
traffic； halted the clanging trolleys； surged into the mouth of West
Street； booing and cursing at the soldiers whose threatening line of
bayonets stretched across that thoroughfare half…way down toward the
canal； guarding the detested Chippering Mill。 Bordering West Street；
behind the company's lodging…houses on the canal； were certain low
buildings； warehouses； and on their roofs tense figures could be seen
standing out against the sky。 The vanguard of the mob； thrust on by
increasing pressure from behind； tumbled backward the thin cordon of
police； drew nearer and nearer the bayonets； while the soldiers grimly
held their ground。 A voice was heard on the roof； a woman in the front
rank of the mob gave a warning shriek； and two swift streams of icy water
burst forth from the warehouse parapet； tearing the snow from the
cobbles； flying in heavy； stinging spray as it advanced and mowed the
strikers down and drove them like flies toward Faber Street。 Screams of
fright； curses of defiance and hate mingled with the hissing of the water
and the noise of its impact with the groundlike the tearing of heavy
sail…cloth。 Then； from somewhere near the edge of the mob； came a
single； sharp detonation； quickly followed by anotherbelow the watchmen
on the roof a window crashed。 The nozzles on the roof were raised； their
streams； sweeping around in a great semi…circle； bowled down the rioters
below the tell…tale wisps of smoke； and no sooner had the avalanche of
water passed than the policemen who； forewarned； had sought refuge along
the walls； rushed forward and seized a man who lay gasping on the snow。
Dazed； half drowned； he had dropped his pistol。 They handeuffed him and
dragged him away through the ranks of the soldiers； which opened for him
to pass。 The mob； including those who had been flung down； bruised and
drenched； and who had painfully got to their feet again； had backed
beyond the reach of the water； and for a while held that ground； until
above its hoarse； defiant curses was heard； from behind； the throbbing of
drums。
〃Cossacks！ More Cossacks！〃
The cry was taken up by Canadians； Italians； Belgians； Poles； Slovaks；
Jews； and Syrians。 The drums grew louder； the pressure from the rear was
relaxed； the throng in Faber Street began a retreat in the direction of
the power plant。 Down that street； now in double time； came three
companies of Boston militia； newly arrived in Hampton； blue…taped；
gaitered； slouch…hatted。 From columns of fours they wheeled into line；
and with bayonets at charge slowly advanced。 Then the boldest of the
mob； who still lingered； sullenly gave way； West Street was cleared； and
on the wider thoroughfare the long line of traffic； the imprisoned
trolleys began to move again。。。。
Janet had wedged herself into the press far enough to gain a view down
West Street of the warehouse roofs； to see the water turned on； to hear
the screams and the curses and then the shots。 Once more she caught the
contagious rage of the mob； the spectacle had aroused her to fury； it
seemed ignominious； revolting that human beings； already sufficiently
miserable； should be used thus。 As she retreated reluctantly across the
car tracks her attention was drawn to a man at her side； a Slovak。 His
face was white and pinched； his clothes were wet。 Suddenly he stopped；
turned and shook his fist at the line of soldiers。
〃The Cossack； the politzman belong to the boss； the capitalist！〃 he
cried。 〃We ain't got no right to live。 I say； kill the capitalistkill
Ditmar！〃
A man with a deputy's shield ran toward them。
〃Move on！〃 he said brutally。 〃Move on； or I'll roil you in。〃 And Janet；
once clear of the people； fled westward； the words the foreigner had
spoken ringing in her ears。 She found herself repeating them aloud；
〃Kill Ditmar！〃 as she hurried through the gathering dusk past the power
house with its bottle…shaped chimneys； and crossed the little bridge over
the stream beside the chocolate factory。 She gained the avenue she had
trod with Eda on that summer day of the circus。 Here was the ragpicker's
shop； the fence covered with bedraggled posters； the deserted grand…stand
of the base…ball park spread with a milky…blue mantle of snow； and
beyond； the monotonous frame cottages all built from one model。 Now she
descried looming above her the outline of Torrey's Hill blurred and
melting into a darkening sky； and turned into the bleak lane where stood
the Franco…Belgian HallHampton Headquarters of the Industrial Workers
of the World。 She halted a moment at sight of the crowd of strikers
loitering in front of it； then went on again； mingling with them
excitedly beside the little building。 Its lines were simple and
unpretentious； and yet it had an exotic character all its own； differing
strongly from the surrounding houses： it might have been transported from
a foreign country and set down here。 As the home of that odd；
cooperative society of thrifty and gregarious Belgians it had stimulated
her imagination； and once before she had gazed； as now； through the
yellowed； lantern…like windows