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By Root 9139 0

hour days out in the sun and the dust, the copious grub, the dead sleep in the lofts of the big barns began to toughen him up. Lying flat on the straw in his sweaty clothes he'd stil feel through his sleep the tingle of the sun on his face and neck, the strain in his muscles, the whir of the reapers and binders along the horizon, the roar of the thresher, the grind of gears of the trucks carrying the red wheat to the elevators. He began to talk like a harvest stiff. After the harvest they worked in a fruitcannery on the Columbia River, a lousy steamy job ful of the sour stench of rotting fruitpeelings. There they read in Soli-darity about the shingleweavers' strike and the free speech fight in Everett, and decided they'd go down and see what they could do to help out. The last day they worked there

-435-Bram lost the forefinger of his right hand repairing the slicing and peeling machinery. The company doctor said he couldn't get any compensation because he'd already given notice, and, besides, not being a Canadian. . . A little shyster lawyer came around to the boarding house where Bram was lying on the bed in a fever, with his hand in a big wad of bandage, and tried to get him to sue, but Bram yel ed at the lawyer to get the hel out. Ben said he was wrong, the working class ought to have its lawyers too. When the hand had healed a little they went down on the boat from Vancouver to Seattle. I.W.W. headquarters there was like a picnic ground, crowded with young men coming in from every part of the U.S. and Canada. One day a big bunch went down to Everett on the boat to try to hold a meeting at the corner of Wetmore and Hewitt Avenues. The dock was ful of deputies with rifles, and re-volvers. "The Commercial Club boys are waiting for us," some guy's voice tittered nervously. The deputies had white handkerchiefs around their necks. "There's Sheriff McRae," said somebody. Bram edged up to Ben. "We better stick together. . . . Looks to me like we was goin' to get tamped up some." The wobblies were arrested as fast as they stepped off the boat and herded down to the end of the dock. The deputies were drunk most of them, Ben could smel the whiskey on the breath of the redfaced guy who grabbed him by the arm. "Get a move on there, you son of a bitch. . ." He got a blow from a riflebutt in the smal of the back. He could hear the crack of saps on men's skul s. Anybody who resisted had his face beaten to a jel y with a club. The wobblies were made to climb up into a truck. With the dusk a cold drizzle had come on. "Boys, we got to show 'em we got guts," a redhaired boy said. A deputy who was holding on to the back of the truck aimed a blow at him with his sap but lost his balance and fel off. The wobblies laughed. The deputy climbed on again, pur--436-ple in the face. "You'l be laughin' outa the other side of your dirty mugs when we get through with you," he yel ed.

Out in the woods where the county road crossed the

railroad track they were made to get out of the trucks. The deputies stood around them with their guns leveled while the sheriff who was reeling drunk, and two wel -dressed middleaged men talked over what they'd do. Ben heard the word gauntlet. "Look here, sheriff," somebody said, "we're not here to make any kind of disturbance. Al we want's our constitutional rights of free speech." The sheriff turned towards them waving the butt of his revol-ver, "Oh, you do, do you, you c----s. Wel , this is Sno-homish county and you ain't goin' to forget it . . . if you come here again some of you fel ers is goin' to die, that's al there is about it. . . . Al right, boys, let's go." The deputies made two lines down towards the railroad track. They grabbed the wobblies one by one and beat them up. Three of them grabbed Ben. "You a wobbly?" "Sure I am, you dirty yel ow . . ." he began. The sheriff came up and hauled off to hit him. "Look out, he's got glasses on." A big hand pul ed the glasses off. "We'l fix that." Then the sheriff punched him in the nose with his fist. "Say you ain't." Ben's mouth was ful of blood. He set his jaw.