the question was submitted to a
referendum in the unions, and the decision was for a strike. It was the
same in all the packing house cities; and suddenly the newspapers and
public woke up to face the gruesome spectacle of a meat famine. All
sorts of pleas for a reconsideration were made, but the packers were
obdurate; and all the while they were reducing wages, and heading off
shipments of cattle, and rushing in wagon-loads of mattresses and cots.
So the men boiled over, and one night telegrams went out from the union
headquarters to all the big packing centers--to St. Paul, South Omaha,
Sioux City, St. Joseph, Kansas City, East St. Louis, and New York--and
the next day at noon between fifty and sixty thousand men drew off their
working clothes and marched out of the factories, and the great "Beef
Strike" was on.

Jurgis went to his dinner, and afterward he walked over to see Mike
Scully, who lived in a fine house, upon a street which had been decently
paved and lighted for his especial benefit. Scully had gone into
semi-retirement, and looked nervous and worried. "What do you want?" he
demanded, when he saw Jurgis.

"I came to see if maybe you could get me a place during the strike," the
other replied.

And Scully knit his brows and eyed him narrowly. In that morning's
papers Jurgis had read a fierce denunciation of the packers by Scully,
who had declared that if they did not treat their people better the
city authorities would end the matter by tearing down their plants. Now,
therefore, Jurgis was not a little taken aback when the other demanded
suddenly, "See here, Rudkus, why don't you stick by your job?"

Jurgis started. "Work as a scab?" he cried.

"Why not?" demanded Scully. "What's that to you?"

"But--but--" stammered Jurgis. He had somehow taken it for granted that
he should go out with his union. "The packers need good men, and need
them bad," continued the other, "and they'll treat a man right that
stands by them. Why don't you take your chance and fix yourself?"

"But," said Jurgis, "how could I ever be of any use to you--in
politics?"

"You couldn't be it anyhow," said Scully, abruptly.

"Why not?" asked Jurgis.

"Hell, man!" cried the other. "Don't you know you're a Republican? And
do you think I'm always going to elect Republicans? My brewer has found
out already how we served him, and there is the deuce to pay."

Jurgis looked dumfounded. He had never thought of that aspect of it
before.