day of the vigilante was past.

On the following Wednesday a rabid leader of the disturbers, not a
union man, but a man who had never done a day's work in his life,
mounted a table on a street corner and addressed the crowd which quickly
swelled to a mob. Members of "The Hundred," sprinkled thinly throughout
the mob, listened until the speaker had finished. Among other things, he
had made a statement about the National Government which should have
turned the mob to a tribunal of prompt justice and hanged him. But many
of the men were drunk, and all were inflamed with the poison of the
hour. When the man on the table continued to slander the Government, and
finally named a name, there was silence. A few of the better class of
workmen edged out of the crowd. The scattered members of "The Hundred"
stayed on to the last word.

Next morning this speaker was found dead, hanging from a bridge a little
way out of town. Not a few of the strikers were startled to a sense of
broad justice in his death, and yet such a hanging was an outrage to any
community. One sin did not blot out another. And the loyal "Hundred"
realized too late that they had put a potent weapon in the hands of
their enemies.

A secret meeting was called by "The Hundred." Wires were commandeered
and messages sent to several towns in the northern part of the State to
men known personally by members of "The Hundred" as fearless and loyal
to American institutions. Already the mob had begun rioting, but,
meeting with no resistance, it contented itself with insulting those
whom they knew were not sympathizers. Stores were closed, and were
straightway broken into and looted. Drunkenness and street fights were
so common as to evoke no comment.

Two days later a small band of cowboys rode into town. They were
followed throughout the day by other riders, singly and in small groups.
It became noised about the I.W.W. camp that professional gunmen were
being hired by the authorities; were coming in on horseback and on the
trains. That night the roadbed of the railroad was dynamited on both
sides of town. "The Hundred" immediately dispatched automobiles with
armed guards to meet the trains.

Later, strangers were seen in town; quiet men who carried themselves
coolly, said nothing, and paid no attention to catcalls and insults. It
was rumored that troops had been sent for. Meanwhile, the town seethed
with anarchy and drunkenness. But, as must ever be the case, anarchy