Death at Pullman by Frances McNamara Page B

rights, then I prefer a strike. There are times when it becomes necessary for a man to assert his manhood. I am free to confess that I do not like the paternalism of Pullman. He is everlastingly saying, ‘What can we do for our poor working-men?’ The interrogation is an insult to the men. The question is not what can Mr. Pullman do for us? It is what can we do for ourselves.” There was a burst of applause at this as if it was the one thing they had been waiting for someone to say. He went on. “Under this system of paternalism in vogue it is only a question of time until they have your souls mortgaged. It will not be ten, nay five, years before they will take you forever under this system. If you will follow Mr. Howard’s advice there is no power on earth to make this strike a failure. Division means defeat and disaster.”
    There was a huge round of applause and hooting as he waved to the crowd, and eventually he hopped down from the table, to be replaced by a more nervous-looking Mr. MacGregor, who urged the men to stay at home and to abstain from drinking whisky. He told them, “The strike will be ended by this time next week. The officials are already growing sick of it, and would be glad to have you go back to work. The receipts of the Pullman Palace Car Company have fallen off one-half since the strike began, evidence that the public means to show its disapproval of the Pullman Palace Car Company’s treatment of its workmen. The dispatch from St. Paul in the Tribune , saying that American Railway Union men would refuse to haul Pullman coaches, is the announcement of the beginning of the end.” This brought another cheer and ended the session on a high note of enthusiasm.
    When I stood to look for Alden and Dr. Chapman, feeling it was time to take a train home, I found Mr. Raoul LeClerc at my elbow. “Mr. LeClerc, will the railroad men really boycott the Pullman cars?”
    He looked around. The other people around us in the stands were already filing down the stairs. “There will be no formal action until the convention next week, but they still want to wave it like a threat at the company. You can be sure, Miss Cabot, that there were at least a dozen Pinkerton men here today, ready to report every word back to the company officials. It’s how they work.”
    My eyes strayed to the departing crowd. It would be impossible to know all of them. I saw my brother and Mr. MacGregor waiting for me at the bottom, so I started down followed by Mr. LeClerc.
    â€œWhat do you think, Emily? Aren’t you glad you came now?” Alden asked.
    â€œMr. Debs is a very good speaker. I hope he’s right and that the men will prevail. From the people I’ve met I’ve learned that conditions are very bad and have been for some time. I only hope we can provide sufficient supplies to relieve the needs of the most desperate here. And I hope desperation will not drive the men to attack the company. Detective Whitbread has been investigating the report of a bomb plot.”
    Mr. MacGregor denied this vigorously. “We are going to protect the property of the company with our lives if necessary. We have one hundred men patrolling the vicinity day and night. If a stranger goes near, he is followed until his business is found out. We are not afraid of our own men, Miss Cabot, but we are afraid of toughs from the city, who may take advantage of the strike. We shall make no effort to prevent the company from putting new men to work if it wishes to.” He noticed Alden taking down his words in a notebook. “Yes. You should print that, young man. We will destroy no property and make no effort to prevent the company from doing as it pleases. We rely on the sympathy of the public and other workingmen to pressure the company. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to the patrols. Thank you again, Miss Cabot.”
    He left, surrounded by a crowd of men asking questions about