A meeting of the lumber employés was held yesterday at the Black Road to appoint a committee to wait on the committee of the owners and present the demands agreed upon. It was an immense meeting. Several speeches were made in English, German and Polish. Finally Mr. Spies was introduced, when a Pole cried, “That is a Socialist,” and great disapprobation was expressed, but the speaker continued, telling them that they must realize their strength, and must not recede from their demands; that the issue lay in their hands, and needed only resolution on their part. At this point some one cried, “On to McCormick’s! Let us drive off the scabs,” and about two hundred ran toward McCormick’s. The speaker, not knowing what occurred, continued his speech, and was appointed afterwards a member of the committee to notify the bosses of the action. Then a Pole spoke, when a patrol wagon rushed up to McCormick’s, and the crowd began to break up. Shortly shots were heard near McCormick’s factory, and about seventy-five well-fed, large and strong murderers, under command of a fat police lieutenant, marched by followed by three more patrol wagons full of law and order beasts. Two hundred police were there in less than ten minutes, firing on fleeing workingmen and women. The writer hastened to the factory, while a comrade urged the assembly to rescue their brothers, unavailingly. A young Irishman said to the writer: “What miserable (—— ——) are those who will not turn a hand while their brothers are being shot down in cold blood! We have dragged away two. I think they are dead. If you have any influence with the people, for Heaven’s sake, run back and urge them to follow you.” The writer did so in vain. The revolvers were still cracking; fresh policemen arriving; and the battle was lost. It was about half-past three that the little crowd from the meeting reached McCormick’s factory. Policeman West tried to hold them back with his revolver, but was put to flight with a shower of stones and roughly handled. The crowd bombarded the factory windows with stones and demolished the guard-house. The scabs were in mortal terror, when the Hinman Street patrol wagon arrived. They were about to attack the crowd with their clubs, when a shower of stones was thrown, followed the next minute by the firing by the police upon the strikers. It was pretended subsequently that they fired over their heads. The strikers had a few revolvers and returned the fire. Meantime, more police arrived, and then the whole band opened fire on the people. The people fought with stones, and are said to have disabled four policemen. The gang, as always, fired upon the fleeing, while women and men carried away the severely wounded. How many were injured cannot be told. A dying boy, Joseph Doebick, was brought home on an express wagon by two policemen. The crowd threatened to lynch the officer, but were prevented by a patrol wagon.