Chapter Eleven
Cass
“I’m meeting with the board in less than an hour - and I need your advice.” Cass slouched down in the chair in front of Dio’s desk.
“You’re lucky I just wrapped up the brief I was working on. How can I help you?”
“Do you know anything about converting a corporation into a cooperative organization?”
Dio leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him. “You agree with the sentiments of your former sweetheart.” His gaze sharpened on Cass.
Cass shrugged. “It only seems fair that we share the wealth of the holding company with the men and women who toil for its successes.”
“Most of your compatriots would consider that heresy.”
“I’ve always rebelled against the pre-ordained path my father laid out for me.
When I went out west, I never expected to find the freedom I’d always wanted.
Because it’s every man and woman for themselves, there’s a sense of earnest competition.
There’s still racism and discrimination, but it’s easier for a man who comes from nothing to become something out there - because the playing field is more level. ”
“I can get the paperwork started, but it’ll take me a while. Your father still owns sixty percent of the shares - and although they’ll pass to you when he dies, he’s not dead yet.”
Cass nodded. “Just do the research for me.”
When Cass exited the courthouse, there was a menacing quiet and the air hung heavy - as if it sensed something was going to happen.
As he rounded the corner and Main Street came into view, his heart started racing.
Two crowds were about to come together like a tidal wave in the middle of the dusty, cobbled street. All the men on one side carried lead pipes - and some of them had drawn aside their coats so the butts of the pistols they wore could be seen.
On the other side was a group of ragtag men with determined looks on their faces. Deirdre’s brother Seamus was in the first row.
The men hired by the mining company to quell the insurrection advanced on the crowd of miners standing its ground.
“This needn’t come to violence!” Seamus shouted as he strode ahead of his group.
“You’re refusin’ to work, and Adams Mineworks doesn’t tolerate belligerence,” one of the enforcers said as he tapped the end of his lead pipe against his boot.
Cass crept into the back row of miners because he had a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was clear the men marching toward them were ready to turn this into a melee instead of a peaceful demonstration.
“We were promised safer working conditions months ago -after the fourth explosion in two years. If our requests are addressed, we’ll go back to work.”
The leader spat on the ground. “There’ll be no compromise with a bunch of Krauts and Micks.”
The slur against his comrades made Cass clench his fists. This was exactly the reason he wanted control of his father’s company. A company that invested in mines and made its profits on the backs of men and women at the mercy of thugs like this.
Cass pushed his way to the front row, until he was beside Seamus. He’d seen showdowns in the West and knew how fast things could escalate.
“I don’t think they’re as afraid of violence as you are,” Cass muttered.
“You’re likely right. But we need to make them listen to us.”
One of the men across from them pulled out his Colt 45 and twirled it like a gunslinger.
“This is your last warning. Disperse and return to the mines. You’ll receive half wages for the rest of the week.”
There was a roar from behind them and the men pushed them closer to the hired guards.
The one who’d drawn his pistol got a panicked look in his eyes. “You!” He waved the gun in Seamus’s direction. “You’re the ring leader. You take your men back to the worksite.”
Seamus took another step forward. They were now less than ten feet apart and the man with the gun began gesticulating wildly.
There was a crack in the air and the acrid smell of gunshot filled the air.
Cass lurched sideways, his shoulder burning.
His arms and his head felt too heavy to hold up and as he fell to the ground, he wondered if he was the one who’d been shot.
His last thought before he lost consciousness was that he’d been right when he feared the confrontation would end violently.