Now there was no sound; nothing but silence, with the suggestion
of a tomb.
The end of the strike had been a nine days' wonder, for it proved that
there had actually been no strike at all, since the owner had simply
closed down the shops, torn down a few walls, sold the machinery and
ore, and canceled all his business obligations. No sensation, however
vital, lasts very long these days; and after these nine days it turned
its attention to other things, this mutable public. Employers,
however, and union leaders, all over the continent, went about their
affairs thoughtfully. If one man could do this unheard-of thing, so
might others, now that an example had been set before them. The
dispersed men harbored no ill feeling toward Morrissy; he, as they
supposed, had acted in good faith for the welfare of the union. But
for the man who had had the courage to make good his threats, for him
they had nothing but bitterness and hate.
Patty would always remember that final night of the strike when John
had come in early in the morning, his clothes torn, his hands bloody,
his hair matted to his forehead, and hatless.
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