In the Shadow of the HillsShedd, George C. (George Clifford)
General
In the Shadow of the Hills
Shedd, George C. (George Clifford)
Fiction
"I told you about some one giving the men booze last night," the
engineer addressed his remaining companion. "We found the place off
south along the hills where that business happened, and stationed a
man there to warn us if another attempt was made to use the spot. But
I shouldn't be surprised if this is the location used for to-night;
it has all the signs. We suspected that this evening would be the real
blow-out and if the men are going there I shall send down the foremen
and engineers to break it up. Vorse's owning this house and his being
the source of the liquor is almost proof. I met Atkinson returning to
the dam when you sent him back from town and he'll know something is
up if the workmen have been melting away from camp. This is simply
another damnably treacherous move of the gang against us to interfere
with our work, starting a big drunk and perhaps a row. We'll stop it
right at the beginning."
"Are the officials of this county so completely under Sorenson and his
crowd's thumbs that they won't move in a case like this?" Pollock
questioned.
"Yes."
"Then we must act on our own initiative, as you say."
"That's our only recourse. Giving whiskey isn't actually an illegal
act--and they're giving it away, not trying to sell it here without a
government licence."
"The thing's illegal if it's part of a conspiracy to disrupt our work,
and if we can secure proof that such is the fact it will but add one
more item to the score to be settled with these San Mateo outlaws."
"There are more men going there. See them?" Weir asked. "You hear them
on the road ahead of us. They're ducking through the fence and
crossing to the house. Our workmen. The thing's plain now; they had
word there would be another 'party' to-night, but they didn't know
just where until they received word this evening. I suppose the whole
camp except a few men will be here."
"Won't they turn ugly if you interfere?"
"Can't help that. I'll send men down with axes and when the booze is
poured on the ground it makes no difference then; the men will be kept
sober. If they are stubborn, I'll run a new bunch in and fire these
fellows. But I don't imagine they will quit work, however surly, for
they know whiskey's no excuse. Men usually cool down after a night's
sleep."
From where they sat and since Weir had turned out his car lamps, they
could see the steady string of men emerging from the darkness of the
field and approaching the house, to quickly dissolve in the gathering
already there. In their lively steps, as well as in the eager voices
occasionally raised along the dark road, the men's desire to join in
the debauch was apparent.
With the swelling of the crowd the scraping of the fiddles became
louder, the dancing more furious, shouts and yells more frequent,
while a dense line of men passing and jamming in and out of the door
pointed only too plainly that inside the house liquor flowed. This
would be no matter of a few drinks per man, but a big drunk if not
stopped.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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