The Union Read Online Free PDF

assembly. Bleak, weary frustration painted the faces of a hundred idle miners with too much time to think and too little sense to do so critically. That was Dietz's impression as he strode out of the assembly hall into the street joining   the crowd that wove toward O'Malley's Tavern.
    Scruffy beards, faded denim pants, weathered skin, work shirts. The description fit almost every man within sight. When had things become desperate? What had driven these men to mob mentality, to trust violence to solve their problems?
    Judge Brown had outlined his plan to the general membership. Dietz prayed that the targeted scab, Jake Waller, had the good sense to stay up at the mine. But he doubted Brown would allow a quirk of fate, or human fickleness, to rob him of his glory. Nothing was said, but Dietz got the impression that Jake would be where he was expected tonight.
    Before dismissing the crowd, Brown had introduced Dietz.
    "McCullough is an expert in union management negotiations. He'll be advising your leadership on strategies that have proven useful back East."  
    Yeah, strategies . Terrorism more like. Dietz had bowed to the crowd and taken his seat again.  
    Then Brown had looked pointedly at his watch. "Men, the hour is upon us." He nodded and spread his arms and the crowd had parted, forming an aisle. The judge walked through with Dietz and the others trailing him. As soon as they broke through the door and out into the dusk, the aisle collapsed as the masses pressed in behind them. Now they weaved to the back of O'Malley's three abreast, circling to the back and arcing around the door.
    "How's it feel to have a front row seat, McCullough? Bet you haven't had this much fun in quite a while." Before Dietz could answer, Brown yelled out a command. "O'Malley, send him out."
    How long had Waller been held prisoner? This was no last minute, spur of the moment act.
    The back door to the bar opened. The stout bartender thrust a terrified man out into the mud, into the center of the arc of men surrounding him.  
    Premeditated, the whole damn thing planned well in advance.
    "Look, boys." Jake's voice trembled. "I just came down for a drink. I didn't mean any harm."
    "Thief!" someone yelled.  
    "Damned scab!" A torrent of insults and obscenities followed as the crowd collapsed onto the man. Lunn Gaffney threw the first punch. With it came the sickening crack of knuckles hitting flesh. Jake Waller staggered. The crowd laughed.  
    As Dietz watched, sickened, Gaffney grabbed the man and pinned his arms back. "When's the next load of cussed scabs due in?"
    Waller trembled and shook his head. "Don't know."
    Gaffney wrenched Waller's arm. Waller groaned. "I don't know. I don't."
    "Who's next?" Gaffney yelled.  
    The men didn't bother forming a line. What did Dietz expect, gentlemen? They punched and kicked and spit on Jake as many at a time as they could get to him, repeating their question and retaliating when they got no response.  
    "Care for a turn, McCullough?" Brown spoke to him.
    "Not my style," Dietz said, trying to sound insulted. Didn't Brown realize that participating in a small time beating was well beneath McCullough? "Let the men have their fun."
    In mere minutes, Jake no longer looked human. His features became unrecognizable beneath the swelling and blood. He passed out. Gaffney, heavily muscled and strong, staggered under his dead weight, and at last dropped him face down into a puddle. The battle seemed lost. Waller wouldn't be talking now. Dietz watched Waller's blood color the water, mingling with it like red rain. In a minute, he'd drown.
    "Get a rope!" someone shouted. "If he won't talk, we'll string him up as an example!"
    Cheers echoed off the building. Patterson made no move to help. Dietz couldn't stand it any longer. He wasn't paid to watch innocent men die. He stepped to the center of the half circle and opened his mouth to shout.  
    "Enough!"  
    But it wasn't Dietz's voice that silenced the crowd. Keely