Death at Pullman by Frances McNamara

argue with my ever-energetic brother. I sighed. “I admit it, Alden, I don’t know what you are talking about.”
    â€œDebs,” he said with a self-satisfied air. “Eugene V. Debs of the American Railway Union. He’s downstairs and he brings with him the aura of success.”

NINE
    Â â€œDebs organized the American Railway Union,” Alden told me, “but more importantly he led it to a major victory in April. There was a strike on the Great Northern Railway up in Minnesota. James J. Hill is the owner and he’s a tough one. But Debs went up and negotiated. They were out eighteen days and they got the wage increases in the end. Everybody thinks he’ll do it again here. And if he does, every man, woman and child connected to any railroad is going to join the ARU. He’s here, downstairs in a secret committee meeting.”
    I’d heard of James Hill but, unlike George Pullman, I had never met him. From what Alden was saying, Debs had been able to deal with one wealthy industrialist, so perhaps could manage another. I only hoped he would have better success than Miss Addams and Mr. Safer. I couldn’t believe in it, however.
    â€œThere is supposed to be a general meeting. That’s what I’ve been waiting for,” Alden told me. “But the crowd is getting so big, they may have to move it out of Turner Hall. There’s a grandstand on the other side of Pullman. It’s on what they call Athletic Island. I’m just waiting to hear when the meeting will be and where.” He looked around at all the boxes. “Of course, I would have helped if you needed it. With the boxes, I mean.” He looked up at the crates around us. “You’ve got to leave this and come, Emily. You don’t want to miss seeing it.”
    Looking at my little brother, I realized that I would always think of him as the child I had followed around when he was just learning to walk. I would never be able to see him clearly as the young man he was now, when I always had that picture of a toddler superimposed on the figure before me. I had a hard time thinking of him as a newspaper reporter.
    â€œAlden, how is Clara? Have you seen her?”
    His eyes widened and I thought he flinched. “She’ll be returning to Kentucky soon. Then she goes to Woods Hole for the summer. She’s finishing her classes.”
    Clara was a tall, striking woman I’d befriended during my first year at the university. She came from a wealthy family in Louisville and was pursuing graduate studies in chemistry. Blinded by my own prejudices, it had been a shock for me to realize that a mutual affection had grown up between her and Alden. But the deaths of our parents left us very poor. I sensed that he saw that discrepancy in fortune as a great impediment. “She sent a note about the date of her departure, but I was given this assignment and I had no time to see her off.”
    â€œOh, Alden.”
    â€œShe’ll be gone to the East soon enough. Chapman is supposed to go, too, you know. I heard he got a fellowship to work in the laboratory at Woods Hole.”
    There was a whistle from the stairwell and Alden jumped down from the crate on which he’d perched. “That’s it. I posted one of the boys outside the meeting, to warn me when they were done. Come on, Em. They must be leaving for the Athletic Island.”
    He disappeared through the door and I looked around for more organizing to do, but decided Alden was right this time. I really did need to hear what Mr. Debs had to say. So I put away the ledger and locked up, then followed my brother down to the floor below where half a dozen men were just filing out of the meeting room. We followed them down to the street where a large number of people had gathered, just as Alden had told me. The committee began to lead them all in an impromptu parade across the town of Pullman. Alden had his notebook open and he skipped