A Promise for Tomorrow (29 page)

James nodded. “Look, just go back and protect yourself. I’ll come down to the site, business as usual, and when I see what’s going on, I’ll deal with it from there. No one need ever know that you brought me the information.”

“Thank ya,” Kiernan said, barely raising the bill of his cap.

James closed the door and had turned back around when Carolina came out from the shadows. “Are you truly going down there?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. “You heard what he said. Better yet, you know very well the things he
didn’t
say.”

“Strikes and riots seldom lend themselves to reasonable thought,” James rejoined. “The railroad is my responsibility. I am the eyes and ears of my employer. Those contractors for the tunnel are hardly going to be in a position to protest this strike. After all, the money won’t come from them; it will come from the B&O Railroad. And because this is the case, I have to do my part. I have to try to negotiate this conflict to an amicable solution. But I promise you I’ll be careful.” James reached out to take her into his arms.

“I’ll still worry.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t. But perhaps it will ease your mind to know I have no intention of going alone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember the men hired last winter to stand guard along the tunnel site?”

She nodded. “The same ones the contractors let go because they didn’t feel the cost justified their employment?”

“The very same. Most of those men are still in town. I’m going to round them up and put them back on the payroll. I think the contractor is going to have to accept the fact that we’re dealing with a real powder keg here and that in order to keep from allowing someone to light the fuse, we’re going to need to keep guards full time. The B&O should probably help pay for it, and in that way, guarantee each man a secure position.”

“Do you really suppose they’ll go with you this morning?”

“Most of these men are in need of money. I don’t anticipate being turned down. I suppose that for money they will do most anything I ask,” James replied with a grin.

He drew her once again into his arms, and this time he kissed her long and tenderly. Carolina felt the familiar feeling of pleasure wash over her. How she loved this man! She clung to him tightly before letting him go.
Oh, God
, she prayed,
don’t let any harm come to him
.

James rode west from Greigsville and headed to the tunnel site. The early morning mist covered him with a damp chill. The muffled clopping of the horses filled the uncanny silence, and James found the racing of his heart to be an almost audible sound. The men who rode with him hardly seemed concerned. They carried their muskets and bayonets as though they were all a part of a bizarre hunting party rather than a police force going to put down a potential riot.

Three additional men remained in Greigsville to recruit and locate other guards to be hired on for work at the tunnel, while a fourth man rode out in order to get word to Ben Latrobe. He prayed it would be enough to quell any possibility of an actual riot, but in his heart he held serious doubts as to his abilities to negotiate this battle. Kiernan had made it clear that Red was in pursuit of higher wages and better conditions. Neither was something James had the power to grant. He could, of course, listen to the demands and be sympathetic to their needs, but otherwise he was powerless.

As they neared the tunnel site, loud voices carried across the morning air, and from time to time gunshots could be heard. James prayed these were for the purpose of drawing attention and not for killing. He urged his horse forward and rode into the camp just as Red mounted a large rock and shook his fists at the cowering contractors.

“We’re not animals to be pushed around and forced to live in crates and tents. A man can’t give a good day’s work without the comforts of a decent place to live and sleep. The wages ya pay can scarce put food on the table, much less buy the things a man needs elsewise.” A hearty roar of agreement rose up from a group of men crowded around Red. He turned, seeing James enter the camp, and scowled a greeting.

“Red, can we talk?” James called.

“No,” the man shouted back. “I have too much yet to do. I’ve not got the men to understandin’ the need for our strike. Corkmen are a hard lot to reason with.”

The men of Cork were gathered a good distance away, near the mouth of the tunnel. They were clearly outnumbered by the Connaughtmen, and fear clearly etched itself in their expressions. Some of the men had obviously already experienced the physical side of Red’s reasoning. They remembered too well the tragedy of the previous November. They no doubt also realized that Red had managed somehow to distance himself from accountability for those actions.

Sounds of discord rose from inside the tunnel, and Red smiled down at James’ openmouthed expression. “I told ya they’re a hardheaded lot.”

“Red, you can’t go around beating these people into submission simply to suit your desire to strike. I won’t have it,” James said.

“Oh, ya won’t, now? And who do ya suppose will stop me?” the burly Irishman challenged, his green eyes alight with amusement.

James dismounted and drew his weapon. “I suppose I will,” he answered.

Red’s lips broke into a smirking grin. “Did ya hear him, boys? He thinks he can put down a Connaughtman.”

The group around James turned glaring expressions in his direction, but the sound of the other patrolmen taking their places beside him bolstered his courage. “I don’t want to fight any man,” James said. “I don’t think it’s necessary. In fact, I think it’s an act of cowardice to bully unarmed men.”

Red’s smile faded and an open expression of hostility replaced it. “Would ya be calling me a coward?”

“Only if you continue to harass these honest men,” James replied. “But you are a bully, Red. There’s no denying that.”

“We got ’em all,” a man shouted from the opening of the tunnel. He pushed several battered men forward, throwing them off balance and into the dirt. The man waved his musket at Red and added, “I think these Corkians have reconsidered joining us.” The Corkmen stared up in mute silence, blood streaming down the sides of their faces, their eyes even now turning black.

James stoically faced Red. “Hard to fight facts when they stare you in the face.”

“So what?” Red retorted. “I’m the stronger man. Connaughtmen are always the stronger.” A cheer rose up from the men at Red’s side.

“Strength isn’t everything,” James said, trying hard not to appear in the leastwise shaken or unnerved. “Wisdom often takes a man further than might.”

“Flowery words!” Red shouted. “But pretty talk does not a tunnel make. Ya think ya know our plight so well, but ya haven’t lived as we’ve lived. Ya have a fine house, and family, and plenty to put on the table for them to eat. Our families are in Ireland, starvin’ because there isn’t food enough to make a meal. Our houses are tents and shanties that do naught to keep out the cold.”

James nodded. “I agree. Things do need to change. But look around you, man. There is lumber for the taking and resources that have scarcely been tapped. But just as one group or the other manages to put together some kind of shelter, you come along and stir up a war and destroy everything in your path.”

This brought affirmation from the Corkians, who by this time had pressed forward to stand closer to James as he continued. “So instead of acting like a jackeen, why not give yourself over to some reasoning? Tell me where you’ve made things better with your badgering and rioting. You and your fellows burned down half of shantytown last November. I fail to see how your actions propose an improvement in housing.”

“It’s true!” yelled one of the Corkmen.

“Yeah, well, ya deserved worse,” one of the Connaughtmen hollered back.

This brought about a volley of insults from each side until Red called them all to silence. “What’s happened has happened, Baldwin. It don’t change nothin’.”

“Perhaps not,” said James. “Then again, perhaps it changes everything. Maybe the biggest mistake we’ve made at the Baltimore and Ohio is that we’ve hired unreasonable men. Men who can’t abide by the rules. Men who don’t really need the work.”

“Are ya threatin’ me job?”

James considered his question for a moment. To fire Red would be to turn a snake loose in the grass. There was no telling when he might rear up and strike. Still, to allow Red to run the show was unacceptable.

“Is that what it will take to make you get down from your perch and talk sense?” James challenged.

“I don’t cotton to folks threatin’ me,” Red retorted.

“Nor do I,” James replied evenly. “I’m willing to try to make some kind of arrangement toward the needs of these people. What I’m not going to stand for, however, is your threats. These men have come here to work.” James nodded toward the Corkmen. “They have families and needs same as you and the rest of your men. If you kill even one of them, you’ll go to prison, and I’ll see to it that you never work for the B&O again. There will be another hundred men standing in line happy to take the job you’ve just vacated. Think about that for moment, Mr. O’Connor.”

“He’s right, Red,” Kiernan called from the crowd of men. “Nobody cares whether it’s one Mick or another. A Mick is a Mick, and there’ll be plenty to replace us when we’re gone.”

Red looked down to where Kiernan emerged from the crowd. “If I want yar opinion, I’ll be askin’ for it.”

“Then tell me what kind of box ya want to be buried in,” Kiernan replied in a nonchalant manner.

“Ah, go on with ya, boy,” Red answered, refusing to be moved. “We’ve got a right to better ourselves.”

“Of course you do,” answered James. “Just as I have a right to protect what is mine, and that which I represent. If you insist on making this a bloodbath, then yours can be the first blood shed.”

Red eyed him suspiciously for a moment. “Ya’d not have the guts to pull the trigger yorself.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” James had nearly forgotten the gun in his hand. He now aimed it at Red and took his sight. If it saved the lives of all the other men, he’d put a bullet in Red’s leg and incapacitate him for a while.

“Enough!” Kiernan declared, jumping up on the rock, putting himself between James and his brother. “Let’s go speak of this together. Mr. Baldwin needn’t shoot anyone today.”

“Get out of here,” Red growled, trying to push Kiernan aside.

Kiernan held his ground and James lowered his gun. The boy had a fierce loyalty for his brother, even though he had stolen away in the night to tell James of the strike. James admired the courage Kiernan showed, both in his actions then as well as now.

“I’ll not go,” Kiernan replied. “Ya’ll have to kill me first and drag me cold, dead body from this place. I’ll not see ya shot through just because yar too pigheaded to listen to what the man has to say.” Then he turned to face James. “And if ya even try to harm him, I’ll hunt ya down meself.”

James nodded. Kiernan’s anguished look evidenced his torn loyalties. “I don’t want to shoot your brother, Mr. O’Connor. I simply want the work at the tunnel to go on and for us to negotiate an amicable settlement in this matter.”

Kiernan nodded and turned back to Red. “Ya heard the man. Can’t ya give that much? See if ya can get what ya want without shedding any more blood.”

“A peaceable strike, is that it?” Red questioned.

James nodded. “That would be acceptable to me.” Just then ten additional mounted patrolmen appeared on the edge of the camp. “And just to see that it stays that way, I’ve reinstated the guards we had last winter.”

“We can’t afford to pay for those men,” one of the contractors declared, coming from his hiding place. “You can’t force us to hire them on.”

“Mr. Bradley,” James said to the contractor, “unless you want to lose this contract altogether, I’d suggest you accept the facts for what they are. These men are necessary to keep the peace at this time. Mr. O’Connor and his representatives will sit down to discuss matters with you and with me, and hopefully we will iron out an agreement that will meet the needs of all parties. Until then, the B&O will be responsible for the payment made to the guards. Their continued presence will be a matter of negotiation between you and the railroad.”

“Well, I suppose that’s all right, so long as I’m not having to pay it out of my pocket.”

James rolled his eyes. The man clearly cared only for the money. He turned as Red jumped down from the boulder. “So are we agreed to talk?”

“We can talk, but it don’t mean we’ll agree,” Red said, his eyes still ablaze from the excitement of the moment. “And while we talk, we don’t work.”

“Agreed,” James replied.

“So be it,” Red said, lacking any real enthusiasm in his voice.

But James wouldn’t and couldn’t let him off that easy. Without even glancing at the men around him, James spit into his hand and extended it. “Shake on it?”

Red grimaced, looked at his brother momentarily, then nodded. Spitting into his own hand, he reached out to take James’. “Ya drive a hard bargain.”

James grinned in spite of the fact that Red was threatening to squeeze his hand right off his arm.

Relief washed over Carolina as she spied James approaching the house. “You look tired,” she said, putting the sewing aside when he entered the house. “I’ve kept supper warm. Are you hungry?” she asked, leaning up to kiss him.

“Starved.”

When he was seated before his warmed meal, she asked, “So how did it go?”

“Red agreed to talk,” James said. He told her a few more details, then, noting the unusual silence in the house, asked, “Where are the children and Miriam?”

“I sent them down the way to help Mrs. Kaberline.”

“Help her do what?”

“Jordana and Brenton are keeping the Kaberline children occupied while Victoria and Miriam help clean and ready the building next door for the new store. Remember the freighters that are promised to arrive by the middle of March?”

“Oh yes. I suppose I’d forgotten.”

“Well, I haven’t. I hope they bring plenty of everything. I penned a letter to Mrs. Graves and instructed her to crate up enough to fill half a train. There’s so much I miss, and I admit I am anxious for it to be here with us.”