James Otis - Down the Slope

He had just staggered to his feet when the men arrived upon the scene; but no one paid any particular attention to him, save as one miner remarked with a laugh:

"I reckon here's a lad who didn't know the rules; but it won't take him long to find them out."

Fred was too sore both in mind and body to make any retort, and he limped down the road believing this first attempt to earn a living was already a dismal failure.

He would have kept the story of the attack a secret from his mother, but for the marks of the conflict which could not be hidden, and when questioned represented the affair as of no especial importance.

Mrs. Byram had a fairly good idea of the case, however, when he said despondently:

"I believe it would be better to try some other kind of work. Why can't we go to the city?"

"Because our capital is so limited. To come here it was only necessary to move our furniture three miles, and the promise of needle-work from the superintendent's family assured us sufficient income to meet the absolute cost of living. But you need not go to the breaker again; it may be possible to find employment elsewhere."

"There's little chance of that in this town, mother," Fred replied with a brave attempt at cheerfulness. "I should be worse than a loafer to remain idle while you were working, and by keeping my eyes open that crowd can't do very much mischief."

"Wouldn't it be better to pay your 'footing' as they call it? Once that has been done there can be no excuse for troubling you."

"I won't give them the value of a penny, and I'll stick to my job. Perhaps, by flogging the bully I can teach them to let me alone."

"But you musn't fight, Fred," Mrs. Byram said, in alarm.

"It's better to have one regular battle than to get such a drubbing as this every night. If they make any more fuss I shall take care of myself."

Now that the first sense of injury had passed away, Fred felt as if he had been at fault to allow himself to be so easily overcome, and, distasteful as was the work in the breaker, he had fully resolved to remain and assert his rights in a manly way.

On the second morning Fred did not present himself at the dingy old building until nearly time for the whistle to sound, and those whom he had good cause to look upon as enemies were already at their places by the chute.

"I heard some of the fellers served you out last night," Chunky said, much as if such proceedings were a matter of course.

"They'd better not try it on again," Fred replied, in a tone of determination.

"Are you goin' to fight?"

"I'll protect myself, if nothing more."

"It won't do any good to try."

"Why not?"

"Because there are too many of 'em, an' Skip Miller can down any feller in this breaker."

"Who is Skip Miller?"

"The boss of the crowd who laid for you."

"Then I'll settle matters with him, and when he gets the best of me it will be time to pay my footing; but not before."

"He'll chew you all up."

"I ain't so sure of that. Did you know what they were going to do?"

"I had a mighty strong s'picion."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Then I'd got a thumping. I wanted you to hurry out with me?"

By this time the work had begun, and the noise was so great that conversation could be indulged in only at the expense of considerable shouting. Fred's hands, sore from the previous day's labor, were cut anew in many places, and more than one piece of slate was marked with his blood as he threw it among the refuse.

The "gang," as Fred termed his enemies, gave no sign of carrying the threat previously made into execution. The watchful eyes of the breaker boss prevented them from idling, and nothing occurred to arouse the new boy's suspicions until just before the noon-day whistle sounded, when a piece of board, thrown while Donovan was not looking, fell at Fred's feet.

At first he believed the intention was to hit him with the missile; but when the stream of coal ceased to flow through the chute, Chunky said as he picked up the board:

"The warnin' has come."

"What do you mean by that?"

For reply Chunky handed his mate the piece of lumber on which was printed in scrawling characters with red chalk:

"PAy OR SkiP.

WE MEAN BiSNEss.

No SNEAkS LoWED HEAR.

ToNiTE iS THE LASt CHANcE.

THE BREAkER REGulATERs."

"So they call themselves regulators, eh?" Fred said, half to himself, as he deciphered the message after considerable difficulty.

"That's some of Skip's doings. He's started a reg'lar s'ciety, an' fellers what don't join have to step round mighty lively sometimes."

"Do you belong?"

Chunkey hesitated an instant as if ashamed of the fact, and then replied:

"It don't pay to keep out, 'cause they run things to suit therselves, an' a feller can't hold his job very long when they're down on him."

"According to that I shan't be here a great while unless this command is obeyed?"

"That's what I'm afraid of. Why not come up with a little treat, an' settle the whole thing that way? You can't do anything by fightin', for there are so many."

Fred hesitated an instant as if considering the matter, and then replied angrily:

"I won't be forced into anything of the kind! If you belong to the gang tell them that I shall protect myself the best I know how, and somebody will get hurt when there's another row."

Chunky had an opportunity to repeat the message at once, for Fred had but just ceased speaking when Skip beckoned for him to come to the other side of the building, and a command from the chief of the regulators was not to be disobeyed with impunity.

Fred was watching the movements of his enemies narrowly when Donovan approached on his way to the water casks.

"Have the boys been tryin' to make you pay your footing?" the breaker boss asked.

"Yes, sir, and it looks as if they didn't intend to let me stay very long," Fred replied, as he held up the notification to quit.

"What are you going to do about it?" and the man looked curiously at the boy.

"Stay where I am until they get the upper hand. I can't treat, for I haven't the money, and I may be able to show that the regulators are not the bosses here."

"I like your pluck, my lad, and can, perhaps, give you a lift. Skip shall have a flea in his ear before the whistle sounds again; but, of course, it's none of my business what happens after working hours."

"I don't expect any assistance, sir, and if they down me it can't be helped."

"You've taken a pretty big contract; but between us both I reckon it can be carried out."

Then Donovan continued on, and, looking up, Fred saw that all his enemies had been watching the interview closely.

"They may conclude it isn't best to tackle me, if he is going to take a hand," he thought, and at this moment Chunky returned.

"Now you have got yourself in a scrape!"

"How so?"

"Skip and all the fellers saw you talkin' to Donovan, an' they know you showed him the message from the regulators."

"What of that?"

"They don't 'low anything of the kind, an' you've got to take a thumpin', even if you do treat."

"So I'm to get a double dose, eh?"

"That's about the size of it. Skip says you'll be laid up for a week when the s'ciety gets through with you."

"I'm much obliged for the promise; but don't believe quite all he says."

Chunky shook his head as if to intimate that the case was a desperate one, and then the nooning had come to an end. The clouds of coal dust which had but just settled rose again as the machinery was put in motion, and all was activity once more.

Although Fred had spoken so bravely he felt seriously disturbed, and during the remainder of the day his mind was fully occupied with thoughts of how he might successfully resist his enemies.