At ten o'clock the strike was to be extended to all connecting lines, the switching yards and stock yards. When the hour arrived the switchmen threw up their caps and quit. Now the different companies made an effort to replace the strikers and trouble commenced. The deputies, who had been aching to get a whack at the strikers for countless cursings which they had received, now used their guns unmercifully upon the unprotected heads of the men, and the police, who disliked and refused to associate with the deputies, used their clubs upon all who resisted them. By eleven o'clock the whole city was in a state of riot and men bruised and bleeding were loaded into wagons and hurried away until the jails were filled with criminals, bums, deputies and strikers. The police courts were constantly grinding out justice, or decisions intended to take the place of justice. Mothers were often seen begging the magistrates to release their boys and wives praying for the pardon of their husbands. These prayers were often unanswered and the poor women were forced to return to a lonely home, to an empty cupboard and a cold hearth. In the midst of the rioting on this wild day came Patsy Daly strolling up the track singing: "_Always together in sunshine and rain Facing the weather atop o' th' train. Watching the meadows move under the stars Always together atop o' th' cars._" "Hello! there!" came from a box car. "Hello to you," said Patsy as he turned out to see what the fellow was in for. "Now, what the divil you doin' caged up in this car?" "I'm hidin' from the strikers," said the man, peeping cautiously out. "Faith, and I'm one of them myself," says Patsy, "and I suppose you're after takin' my place, ye spalpeen; I have a right to swat your face for you, so I have." "You couldn't do it if I was opposed," said the stranger opening the door. "Oh! couldn't I? then let yourself drop to the ground till I take a little of the conceit out of you." "No, I won't fight you," said the man, "I like your face and I want you to help me out." "And I like your nerve; now, what's your pleasure? Have you been working in this strike?" "I started to work this morning only to get something to eat on." "Are you a railroad man?" "I'm a switchman. I was foreman in the yards at Buffalo, had a scrap with the yard-master who had boasted that he would not have a switchman he couldn't curse, an' got fired." "Did you lick him?" "Yes." "Good and plenty?" "Yes." "Go on with your story."