At the close of the third week of the strike the Congress of Federated Trades assembled and declared a boycott against all members of the Builders’ and Manufacturers’ Union, and against all who should violate the boycott; the boycott to run also against any railway or steamship line that should accord them or their families transportation out of San Francisco. It was expected that this last and most drastic measure would bring the capitalists to terms, for its enforcement would deprive them and their families of the necessities of life. Their employes left them under the pressure, and their offices and places of business were closed. Their house servants departed, and they were unable to obtain substitutes even among the Chinese, for the Celestial who should labor for a boycotted household was given his choice between exile and death. Hotel proprietors were compelled to refuse a boycotted person as a guest, or lose their own waiters, cooks, and chambermaids. The restaurant proprietor who should serve one of them with a meal would be compelled to close his doors for the want of help; and the grocer, fruiterer, butcher, baker, or provision dealer who sold supplies for their use, would be posted, and lose his other customers, for the boycott was declared against all who violated the boycott. Mr. French was equal to the exigency. He caused representations to be made, and influence exerted at Washington, and the United States steamer _Charleston_ was detailed for special service. The members of the Builders’ and Manufacturers’ Association, with their families, were taken on board of the war-ship, guarded by the Pinkerton men, and carried to Vancouver, where they were dispatched East over the Canadian Pacific Railroad. Lorin French, with a few of his fellow-members, refused to go, but, establishing themselves comfortably on the upper floor of the building No. 1099 Market Street, they managed to provision themselves and their guards, despite the boycott, and announced their determination to see the contest out. It was the last week in April, 1894, and the tenth week of the great strike. Business was almost suspended in San Francisco. Thousands of the strikers had wandered out into the country, and every farmhouse within a hundred miles of San Francisco was besieged by men glad to work for food and shelter, while the highways were crowded with tramps. In the city the streets were filled with idle thousands, and at the daily meeting at the sand lots twenty or thirty thousand auditors were addressed by favorite speakers.