“We demand that Bassett be reinstated at once.” “And we unqualifiedly refuse.” “Very well, sir. You know, I suppose, that there is then only one course open to us?” “I suppose you mean you’ll call a strike?” “Much as we regret to do so,” said the delegate with unction, “that is what we shall have to do.” “I have a picture of your regret,” said Mr. Schofield, grimly. “I’m going to have it framed. When will the strike begin?” “At noon to-morrow,” answered the delegate. “You’ve figured this thing out? You know what it will mean to the men?” “What will it mean?” “It will mean that they’ll have to begin at the bottom again, so far as this road is concerned. They’ll never get their old places back.” “Is that a threat?” asked the delegate, flushing. “No; it’s a statement of fact.” “Well, I guess we can take the consequences. Of course, you’ve figured it out from your side?” “Thoroughly,” Mr. Schofield answered. “You say the strike begins at noon to-morrow?” “Yes.” “All trains on the road, I suppose, will be taken on to their destinations?” “They will be taken to the terminus of the division.” “And there will be no disorder or attempt to interfere with the operation of the road?” “Not if we can help it,” replied the delegate, smiling grimly. “The brotherhood is always on the side of law and order. Come on, boys,” and he led the committee from the room. Two minutes later, Mr. Schofield had Mr. Round on the wire. “I was just notified,” he wired, “that the strike will be called at noon to-morrow.” “All right,” flashed back the general manager. “We’ll be ready for them. Will get orders forward to you soon as possible.” “O. K.,” clicked Mr. Schofield. Then he sent his stenographer to summon Mr. Plumfield and Allan West, and devoted the few minutes before they appeared to the study of the time-card. “Well, boys,” he began, when they were seated, “I suppose you know there’s going to be a strike.” “Yes,” nodded Mr. Plumfield, “it’s all over the place.” “It starts at noon to-morrow. The engineers will go out and I suppose the firemen will, too, right away. But how about the conductors and brakemen?” “I don’t believe the conductors will go out without orders from headquarters,” said the train master reflectively. “And maybe they won’t get orders. You know they have been mighty careful recently about engaging in any sympathy strikes.” “Yes, I know they have, and I suppose the brakemen will stay as long as the conductors do. But it’s going to be quite a job to get engineers and firemen to move our trains. We’ve got a total of sixty-two regular trains in both directions every day, and thirty-eight of them are passengers.” “But a lot of them are suburban trains running between Cincinnati and Loveland,” put in Allan.