When he had at last reached downtown after his late breakfast, Keith found
it in a fair turmoil. Knots of men stood everywhere arguing, sometimes very
heatedly. Eureka members were openly expressing their anger over what they
called Taylor's "dirty trick" in putting hirelings on the brakes, men who
did not belong to the Monumental organization at all. If it had not been
for that the Monumentals could never have "sucked" at all. On the other
hand, the Monumentals and their friends were vehemently asserting that they
were well within their rights. Fists were brandished. Several fights
started, but were stopped before they had become serious.
Keith avoided these storm centres, waving a friendly hand, but smilingly
refusing to be drawn in. Near the Merchants' Exchange, however, he came on
a quieter, attentive group, in the centre of which stood Calhoun Bennett.
The Southerner's head was thrown back haughtily, but he was listening with
entire courtesy to a violent harangue from a burly, red-faced man in rough
clothes.
"And I tell you that sort of a trick won't go down with nobody, and the
story of why you were washed won't wash itself. It's too thin."
"I have the honah, suh," said Bennett formally, "to info'm yo' that yo' do
not know what yo' are talkin' about."
Without haste Calhoun Bennett rapped the man across the face with his light
rattan cane. Venting a howl of rage, the Eureka partisan leaped forward.
Calhoun Bennett, quick as a flash, drew a small derringer and fired; and
the man went down in a heap. Superbly nonchalant, Bennett, without a glance
at his victim, turned away, the ring of spectators parting to let him
through. He saw Keith, and at once joined him, drawing the young man's arm
through his own. Keith, looking back, saw the man already sitting up,
feeling his shoulder and cursing vigorously.
Bennett was fairly radiating rage, which, however, he managed to suppress
beneath a well-bred exterior calm.
"These hounds, suh," he told Keith, "profess not to believe us, suh! They
profess, suh, that our explanation of how we were washed is a fabrication.
You will oblige me, suh, by profferin' yo' personal testimony in the case."
He faced Keith resolutely toward the Eureka engine house. Keith spared a
thought to wonder what he was being let in for by this handsome young fire-
eater, but he went along unprotesting.
Around the Eureka engine house was a big crowd of men. These fell silent as
Bennett and Keith approached. The Eurekas represented quite a different
social order from the Monumentals. Its membership was recruited from those
who in the East had been small farmers, artisans, or workingmen in the more
skilled trades; independent, plain, rather rough, thoroughly democratic, a
trifle contemptuous of "silk stockings," outspoken, with little heed for
niceties of etiquette or conduct. Bennett pushed his way through them to
where stood Carter, the chief, and several of the more influential. Keith,
looking at them, met their eyes directed squarely into his. They were
steady, clear-looking, solid, rather coarse-grained, grave men.
"I have brought Mr. Keith here, who was an eyewitness, to give his
testimony as to the events of last evenin'," said Bennett formally.
Keith told his story. It was received in a blank noncommittal silence. The
men all looked at him steadily, and said nothing. Somehow, he was
impressed. This silence seemed to him, fancifully, more than mere lack of
words--it conveyed a sense of reserve force, of quiet appraisal of himself
and his words, of the experiences of men who have been close to realities,
who have done things in the world. Keith felt himself to be better
educated, to own a better brain, to have a wider outlook, to be possessed,
in short, of all the advantages of superiority. He had never mingled with
rough men, and he had always looked down on them. In this attitude was no
condescension and no priggishness, Now he felt, somehow, that the best of
these men had something that he had not suspected, some force of character
that raised them above his previous conception. They might be more than
mere "filling" in a city's population; they might well come to be an
element to be reckoned with.
When he had quite finished his story, there ensued a slight pause. Then
said Carter:
"We believe Mr. Keith. If Mr. Ward and Frank Munro were there, of course
there can be no doubt." Somehow Keith could not resent the implication; it
was too impersonally delivered. Carter went on with cold formality and
emphasis; "Mr. Keith had a very narrow escape. It was lucky for him that
your hired men had 'sucked' your waterbox. In view of that we can, of
course, no longer regret the fact."
"It was a dirty trick just the same!" growled a voice out of the crowd.
Carter turned a deliberate look in that direction, and nothing more was
said. Bennett ignored the interruption, bowed frigidly, and turned away.
The Eureka leaders nodded. In dead silence Keith and Bennett withdrew.
"That settles that!" observed Bennett, when at a little distance. "A lot
of cheap shopkeepers! It makes me disgusted every time I have anythin' to
do with them!"
As they walked away, one of the hangers-on of the police court approached,
touching his hat.
"For you, Mr. Bennett," he said most respectfully, proffering a paper.
"Me?" observed Bennett, surprised. He unfolded the paper, glanced at it,
and laughed. "I'm arrested for wingin' that 'shoulder-striker' up the
street a while back," he told Keith.
"Not a thing, thank you. There'll be no trouble at all--just a little
nuisance. May call you for a witness later."
He went away with the officer, but shortly after Keith saw him on the
street again. The matter had been easily arranged.
Keith went to his office. In spite of himself he could not entirely take
Bennett's point of view. Several of the men at Eureka headquarters looked
interesting--he would like to know them--perhaps more than interesting, the
potentiality of a reasoning and directed power.