when van rensselaer ceased pacing the room, he went to the table and wrote an order closing the mills. then he sent two telegrams, one to the governor and one to the sheriff, telling them that violence was threatened, calling upon them to enforce the law, and declaring that all damages would fall upon the county. after that he rang for his manager.

"mr. grinder," he said, "i have closed the mills, and i intend to leave them in your charge. you will get three hundred private detectives, or three thousand, as may be necessary, to protect the property; and you will set to work to gather new hands, and in one week the mills will be running again. let there be no shilly-shallying about it; i mean to put an end to this nonsense once and for all time: the mills are to be run, and run at once, if it takes[38] all the troops in the state to do it. and that is all,—only that the members of the union are under no circumstances to be taken back except as individuals. i bid you good afternoon."

so he put on his coat and left the building to enter his carriage. a fine rain was falling, and he buttoned his coat tightly and sat gazing fixedly ahead while he was whirled down the street. suddenly, however, the carriage stopped, and he came out of his revery and saw that the way was obstructed by a crowd.

they were opposite a dilapidated house, whose pitiful furniture had all been deposited upon the sidewalk; two half-starved, shivering children clung to an old bed that men were dragging out of the door, and a woman was crouching by the doorway, with a baby in her arms, crying hysterically above the hoarse murmurs.

then suddenly the bystanders saw who was in the carriage. a yell went up: "it's van rensselaer! van rensselaer!"[39] like a wave the mob surged about him. hoots and hisses filled the air. the men shook their fists, the women shrilled abuse, and some one flung a stone. the president leaned forward to the coachman. "drive on!" he shouted. "drive on!"

the man hesitated, gazing at the crowd in front and back at his master. "drive on!" yelled the latter, again.

and so the coachman lashed the horses, and forward they bounded like mad. several of the crowd were knocked down; the rest scattered in terror; and away down the street sped the carriage, amid a rain of missiles and a din of curses.