“As I saw these soldiers rush the hall I jumped up and threw off my coat.  I thought there would be a fight and I was going to mix in.  Then came the shooting, and I knew I had no business there.”

Later Barnett went home and remained there until his arrest the next day.

In the union hall, besides Bert Faulkner, were Wesley Everest, Roy Becker, Britt Smith, Mike Sheehan, James McInerney and the “stool pigeon,” these, with the exception of Faulkner and Everest, remained in the hall until the authorities came to place them under arrest.  They had after the first furious rush of their assailants, taken refuge in a big and long disused ice box in the rear of the hall.  Britt Smith was unarmed, his revolver being found afterwards, fully loaded, in his roll-top desk.  After their arrest the loggers were taken to the city jail which was to be the scene of an inquisition unparalleled in the history of the United States.  After this, as an additional punishment, they were compelled to face the farce of a “fair trial” in a capitalistic court.

Wesley Everest

But Destiny had decided to spare one man the bitter irony of judicial murder.  Wesley Everest still had a pocket full of cartridges and a forty-four automatic that could speak for itself.

This soldier-lumberjack had done most of the shooting in the hall.  He held off the mob until the very last moment, and, instead of seeking refuge in the refrigerator after the “paraders” had been dispersed, he ran out of the back door, reloading his pistol as he went.  It is believed by many that Arthur McElfresh was killed inside the hall by a bullet fired by Everest.

In the yard at the rear of the hall the mob had already reorganized for an attack from that direction.  Before anyone knew what had happened Everest had broken through their ranks and scaled the fence.  “Don’t follow me and I won’t shoot,” he called to the crowd and displaying the still smoking blue steel pistol in his hand.

“There goes the secretary!” yelled someone, as the logger started at top speed down the alley.  The mob surged in pursuit, collapsing the board fence before them with sheer force of numbers.  There was a rope in the crowd and the union secretary was the man they wanted.  The chase that followed probably saved the life, not only of Britt Smith, but the remaining loggers in the hall as well.

Running pell-mell down the alley the mob gave a shout of exaltation as Everest slowed his pace and turned to face them.  They stopped cold, however, as a number of quick shots rang out and bullets whistled and zipped around them.  Everest turned in his tracks and was off again like a flash, reloading his pistol as he ran.  The mob again resumed the pursuit.  The logger ran through an open gateway, paused to turn and again fire at his pursuers; then he ran between two frame dwellings to the open street.  When the mob again caught the trail they were evidently under the impression that the logger’s ammunition was exhausted.  At all events they took up the chase with redoubled energy.  Some men in the mob had rifles and now and then a pot-shot would be taken at the fleeing figure.  The marksmanship of both sides seems to have been poor for no one appears to have been injured.