it is criminal, I apologize,” said Carnac.
“You must apologize for its offensiveness, or you will be arrested, sir.”
This nettled Carnac. “I will not apologize for its offensiveness,” he said firmly.
“Constable, arrest this man,” said the Coroner, and the constable did so.
“May I be released on bail?” asked Carnac with a smile.
“I am a magistrate. Yes, you may be released on bail,” said the Coroner.
Carnac bowed, and at once a neighbour became security for three thousand dollars. Then Carnac bowed again and left the Court with—it was plain—the goodwill of most people present.
Carnac returned to his office with angry feelings at his heart. The Belloc man ought to have been arrested for manslaughter, he thought. In any case, he had upheld the honour of John Grier’s firm by his protest, and the newspapers spoke not unfavourably of him in their reports. They said he was a man of courage to say what he did, though it was improper, from a legal standpoint. But human nature was human nature!
The trial took place in five days, and Carnac was fined twenty-five cents, which was in effect a verdict of not guilty; and so the newspapers said. It was decided that the offence was only legally improper, and it was natural that Carnac expressed himself strongly.
Junia was present at the trial. After it was over, she saw Carnac for a moment. “I think your firm can just pay the price and exist!” she said. “It’s a terrible sum, and it shows how great a criminal you are!”
“Not a ‘thirty-cent’ criminal, anyhow,” said Carnac. “It is a moral victory, and tell Fabian so. He’s a bit huffy because I got into the trouble, I suppose.”
“No, he loathed it all. He’s sorry it occurred.”
There was no further talk between them, for a subordinate of Carnac’s came hurriedly to him and said something which Junia did not hear. Carnac raised his hat to her, and hurried away.
“Well, it’s not so easy as painting pictures,” she said. “He gets fussed over these things.”
It was later announced by the manager of the main mill that there was to be a meeting of workers to agitate for a strike for higher pay. A French-Canadian who had worked in the mills of Maine and who was a red-hot socialist was the cause of it. He had only been in the mills for about three months and had spent his spare time inciting well-satisfied workmen to strike. His name was Luc Baste—a shock-haired criminal with a huge chest and a big voice, and a born filibuster. The meeting was held and a deputation was appointed to wait on Carnac at his office. Word was sent to Carnac, and he said he would see them after the work was done for the day. So in the evening about seven o’clock the deputation of six men came, headed by Luc Baste.
“Well, what is it?” Carnac asked calmly.
Luc Baste began, not a statement of facts, but an oration on the rights of workers, their downtrodden condition and their beggarly wages. He said they had not enough to keep body and soul together, and that right well did their employers know it. He said there should be an increase of a half-dollar a day, or there would be a strike.
Carnac dealt with the matter quickly and quietly. He said Luc Baste had not been among them a long time and evidently did not know what was the cost of living in Montreal. He said the men got good wages, and in any case it was not for him to settle a thing of such importance. This was for the head of the firm, John Grier, when he returned. The wages had been raised two years before, and he doubted that John Grier would consent to a further rise. All other men on the river seemed satisfied and he doubted these ought to have a cent more a day. They were getting the full value of the work. He begged all present to think twice before they brought about catastrophe. It would be a catastrophe if John Grier’s mills should stop working and Belloc’s mills should go on as before. It was not like Grier’s men to do this sort of thing.
The men seemed impressed, and, presently, after one of them thanking him, the deputation withdrew, Luc Baste talking excitedly as they went. The manager of the main mill, with grave face, said:
“No, Mr. Grier, I don’t think they’ll be satisfied. You said all that could be said, but I think they’ll strike after all.”
“Well, I hope it won’t occur before John Grier gets back,” said Carnac.
That night a strike was declared.
Fortunately, only about two-thirds of the men came out, and it could not be called a complete success. The Belloc people were delighted, but they lived in daily fear of a strike in their own yards, for agitators were busy amongst their workmen. But the workers waited to see what would happen to Grier’s men.
Carnac declined to reconsider. The wages were sufficient and the strike unwarranted! He kept cool, even good-natured, and with only one-third of his men at work, he kept things going, and the business went on with regularity, if with smaller output. The Press unanimously supported him, for it was felt the strike had its origin in foreign influence, and as French Canada had no love for the United States there was journalistic opposition to the strike. Carnac had telegraphed to his father when the strike started, but did not urge him to come back. He knew that Grier could do nothing more than he himself was doing, and he dreaded new influence over the strikers. Grier happened to be in the backwoods and did not get word for nearly a week; then he wired asking Carnac what the present situation was. Carnac replied he was standing firm, that he would not yield a cent increase in wages, and that, so far, all was quiet.
It happened, however, that on the day he wired, the strikers tried to prevent the non-strikers from going to work and there was a collision. The police and a local company of volunteers intervened and then the Press condemned unsparingly the whole affair. This outbreak did good, and Luc Baste was arrested for provoking disorder. No one else was arrested, and this was a good thing, for, on the whole, even the men that followed Luc did not trust him. His arrest cleared the air and the strike broke. The next day, all the strikers returned, but Carnac refused their wages for the time they were on strike, and he had triumphed.
On that very day John Grier started back to Montreal. He arrived in about four days, and when he came, found everything in order. He went straight from his home to the mill and there found Carnac in control.
“Had trouble, eh, Carnac?” he asked with a grin, after a moment of greeting. Carnac shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing.
“It’s the first strike I ever had in my mills, and I hope it will be the last. I don’t believe in knuckling down to labour tyranny, and I’m glad you kept your hand steady. There’ll be no more strikes in my mills—I’ll see to that!”
“They’ve only just begun, and they’ll go on, father. It’s the influence of Canucs who have gone to the factories of Maine. They get bitten there with the socialistic craze, and they come back and make trouble. This strike was started by Luc Baste, a French-Canadian, who had been in Maine. You can’t stop these things by saying so. There was no strike among Belloc’s men!”
“No, but did you have no trouble with Belloc’s men?”
Carnac told him of the death of the Grier man after the collision, of his own arrest and fine of twenty-five cents and of the attitude of the public and the Press. The old man was jubilant. “Say, you did the thing in style. It was the only way to do it. You landed ’em with the
