The Nine-Tenths Part 35

"Over there!" the girl pointed.

But all Myra saw was a black semicircle of girls leaning over some one invisible near the window.

"He's at his desk, and he's talking with a committee. You'd better wait till he's finished!"

This news choked Myra. Wait? Wait here? Be shut out like this? She was as petulant as a child; she felt like shedding tears.

But the girl at her side seemed to be playing the part of hostess, and she had to speak.

"What strike is this?"

The girl was amazed.

"_What strike_! Don't you know?"

Myra smiled.

"No--I don't. I've been out of the city."

"It's the shirtwaist-makers' strike."

"Oh! I see!" said Myra, mechanically.

"It's the biggest woman's strike that ever was. Thirty thousand out--Italians, Jews, and Americans."

"Yes?" Myra was not listening.

Suddenly then the door was flung open and a well-dressed girl rushed in, crying shrilly:

"Say, girls, what do you think?"

A group gathered about her.

"What's up? What's the news? Don't stand there all day!"

The girl spoke with exultant indignation.

"I've been arrested!"

"Arrested! _You_!"

"And I didn't do nothing, either--I was good. What do you think of this?

The judge fined me ten dollars. Well, let me tell you, I'm going to _get something_ for those ten dollars! I'm going to raise--h.e.l.l!"

"You bet! Ain't it a shame?"

And the group swallowed her up.

Myra wondered why the girl had been arrested, and was surprised at her lack of shame and humiliation.

But she had not much time for thought. The door opened again, and Sally Heffer entered, sparkling, neat, eyes clear.

At once cries arose:

"Here's Sal! h.e.l.lo, Sally Heffer! Where have you been?" Girls crowded about. "What's the news? Where did you come from?"

Where had Myra heard that name before?

Sally spoke with delicious fastidiousness.

"_I've_ been to Va.s.sar."

"Va.s.sar College?"

"Yes, Va.s.sar College--raised fifty dollars!"

"Sally's it, all right! Say, Sal, how did they treat you? Stuck up?"

"Not a bit," said Sally. "They were ever so good to me. They're lovely girls--kind, sweet, sympathetic. They wanted to help and they were very respectful, but"--she threw up her hands--"_oh, they're ignorant_!"

There was a shout of laughter. Myra was shocked. A slum girl to speak like this of Va.s.sar students? She noticed then, with a queer pang, that Sally made for the window group, who at once made a place for her. Sally had easy access to Joe.

The girl at her side was speaking again.

"You've no idea what this strike means. There's some rich women interested in it--they work right with us, hold ma.s.s-meetings, march in the streets--they're wonderful. And some of the big labor-leaders and even some of the big lawyers are helping. There's one big lawyer been giving all his time. You see, we're having trouble with the police."

"Yes, I see," said Myra, though she didn't see at all, and neither did she care. It seemed to her that she could not wait another instant. She must either go, or step over to his desk.

"Is he still so busy?" she asked.

"Yes, he is," said the girl. "Do you know him personally?"

Myra laughed softly.

"A little."

"Then you heard how he was hurt?"

"_Hurt_!" gasped Myra. Her heart seemed to grow small, and it was pierced by a sharp needle of pain.

"Yes, there was a riot here--the men came in and smashed everything."

"And Mr. Blaine? _Tell me_!" The words came in a blurt.

"Had his arm broken and his head was all b.l.o.o.d.y."

Myra felt dizzy, faint.