"See here, boys, I want you to come over the plant with me and let me show you what some of you strikers have done, and what it will cost us before we can open up." So I tramped over the place with the men, and I pointed out damages to the property that would cost the company over ten thousand dollars to repair. "Now, go home and ask your union if they will stand for that bill?" They thought it was my little joke. They could not understand that a union, if it is to have the power to force a rise in wages, must be responsible also for the damage done by its members. Nor could they see that if the company wasn't making money, they could not make more money out of the company. At last, after talking with the lot of obstinate Poles for three hours, I turned them all away, with the suggestion that they might see a trainload of men coming in from the South in about a week if they didn't come back--for we were going to open on the first of the month. They trotted off to a saloon to talk it over. The superintendent shook his head and talked about a riot if we should try getting in new men. Then he and I went over the place together to see about improvements, and spent another hour looking into every corner of the building. He left me up in the loft of the main building, while he went back for some plans that were in the office. I poked about here and there in the dusty, cobwebbed place. There was only rough scantling for a floor, and below my feet I could see the gaping mouths of the great vats, still filled with dirty, slimy water. Pretty soon I heard the tread of feet coming up the stairs. It didn't sound like the superintendent. He was a light man, and this was a heavy person. I called out to the man to take care, as the light was none too good, and a tumble to the floor below into one of those vats would be no joke. He did not reply, and I was bending over looking down between the boards and trying to make out who it was, when suddenly I felt myself grasped by the neck. I straightened up, and both of us came near tumbling over backward through the loose boarding. "Quit your fooling!" I cried, wondering what had got into the fellow. Then I threw him off a bit and could see that I had to do with one of those men who had been talking with me down below in the office. "So you get some other help, you do, you do?" he began to spit at me. "I know you! I know you!" There was very little light in that loft, for the day was pretty well over. All that could be seen by me was a stocky, short man, with a face covered by a heavy beard. I remembered that I had seen him in the office with the other men, though he had not done any talking. "Well," I said, "what are _you_ after, John?" Considering my position, I thought it was as well to speak good-naturedly. It wasn't just the place for a wrestling match. "I know you!" He came forward again and shook his fist in my face. "You are one of the men who murdered my friends. Yes, you did murder them!"