While they were doing
this, Peter drove uptown, and went into Dickel's riding academy. As he
passed through the office, a man came out.
"Ah, Mr. Stirling. Good-morning."
"Good-morning, Mr. Byrnes," said Peter. "How serious is it likely to
be?"
"We can't say yet. But the force has all it can do now to handle the
Anarchists and unemployed, and if this strike takes place we shall need
you."
Peter passed into another room where were eight men.
"Good-morning, Colonel," said one. "You are prompt."
"What is the trouble?"
"The Central has decided to make a general reduction. They put it in
force at noon to-day, and are so certain that the men will go out, that
they've six hundred new hands ready somewhere to put right in."
"Byrnes tells me he has all he can do."
"Yes. We've obtained the governor's consent to embody eight regiments.
It isn't only the strike that's serious, but this parade of the
unemployed to-morrow, and the meeting which the Anarchists have called
in the City Hall.
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