“Don’t touch the timbers,” he said.  “It ain’t a mail train.”

His voice was not loud, but those near at hand passed the word along, and the long line of men stood motionless.  By that time the train had stopped, and three of the crew had come forward.  They saw the timbers on the track and hurried toward them, but the delegate called out:—­

“Watch those sticks, boys!  Don’t let a man touch them!”

There was no hesitation when the delegate spoke in that tone.  A score of men blocked the way of the train crew.

Bannon was angry.  He stood looking at Grady with snapping eyes, and his hands closed into knotted fists.  But Bannon knew the power of the unions, and he knew that a rash step now might destroy all hope of completing the elevator in time.  He crossed over to the delegate.

“What do you want?” he said gruffly.

“Nothing from you.”

“What do you want?” Bannon repeated, and there was something in his voice that caused the delegate to check a second retort.

“You’ll kill these men if you work them like this.  They’ve been on the job all day.”

Bannon was beginning to see that Grady was more eager to make trouble than to uphold the cause of the men he was supposed to represent.  In his experience with walking delegates he had not met this type before.  He was proud of the fact that he had never had any serious trouble in dealing with his workmen or their representatives.  Mr. MacBride was fond of saying that Bannon’s tact in handling men was unequalled; but Bannon himself did not think of it in this way—­to him, trouble with the laborers or the carpenters or the millwrights meant loss of time and loss of money, the two things he was putting in his time to avoid; and until now he had found the maligned walking delegate a fair man when he was fairly dealt with.  So he said:—­

“Well, what are you asking?”

“These gangs ought to be relieved every two hours.”

“I’ll do it.  Now clear up those timbers.”

The delegate turned with a scowl, and waved the men back to their work.  In a moment the track was clear, and the train was moving slowly onward between the long lines of men.

Bannon started the gangs at work.  When the timbers were again coming across from the wharf in six slowly moving streams that converged at the end of the elevator, he stood looking after the triangle of red lights on the last car of the train until they had grown small and close together in the distance.  Then he went over to the wharf to see how much timber remained, and to tell Peterson to hurry the work; for he did not look for any further accommodation on the part of the C. & S. C. railroad, now that a train had been stopped.  The steamer lay quietly at the dock, the long pile of cribbing on her deck shadowed by the high bow deckhouse from the lights on the spouting house.  Her crew were bustling about, rigging the two hoisting engines, and making all ready for unloading when the order should be given.