in school, so you have to leave.”
“Not until I say my piece. You’ve known me my whole life, so I don’t need to tell you I didn’t run all the way here for the exercise.”
Hannah bit her lip. If her oldest friend needed to talk to her, why should she let rules stand in her way? A few months ago, that would never have happened.
She started to unlock the door. “Let’s go inside.”
“Inside? We can’t do that. Your sisters aren’t home yet. I know because I’ve been knocking for at least a minute.”
“Move it. Now.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him through the door.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a bossy lady?”
“Yes. Frequently.” She stopped inside the front parlor, closed the door behind them, and spun toward him. “So, what’s so important you’d risk my job?”
“That job is exactly why I’m here.” Without being asked to do so, he crossed the room in three long strides and sat down on the tapestry-covered sofa.
“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.
“Thank you. I don’t mind if I do.”
“You are as annoying as a brother.” Hannah went to the window and closed the inch-long gap in the lace curtains as if doing so would keep out any prying eyes. “Get on with it. Why are you here?”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Me? Why?” She sat down on one of the matching parlor chairs, folded her hands in her lap, and studied Walt. The way he casually crossed his ankle over his knee didn’t fool her. His green eyes, always so easy to read, said he’d come because of genuine concern.
He placed his hand on his knee. “You know, when you become a full-fledged operator, you’ll have a choice of whether to join the union or not.”
“I hadn’t thought about that, but I suppose you’re right. Why is that a problem? I know how active you are in the telegraphers’ union. Last year’s strike lasted for weeks.”
He ran his hand over his chin. “There may be another strike. That’s why I’m here.”
“What does that have to do with me? I’m sorry, Walt, but I am not following you.”
“After last year’s strike, six telegraphers—four men and two women—were fired and blacklisted by Western Union management because of their union involvement.”
Hannah pressed her back against the chair. Since second grade, she’d been beside him, and she’d never heard him speak with as much venom as when he spoke about the management. The sound unnerved her, but she remained silent to let him finish.
“Those six telegraphers deserve their jobs back, and we’re willing to strike to get that done. That is, if our other plans fail.” He paced the small room. “Hannah, if we strike, the telephone operators might have to join us. They’d have to honor our strike. Union power lies in stopping the work, or in this case, all communication.”
“Then I won’t join. I need this job to support my sisters.”
“I know, but haven’t you heard of some of the things that canhappen to folks who break union lines? For your own safety, you have to join or at least honor any strike lines.” He stopped and pulled her to her feet. “Please.”
“I’ll do the best I can.”
“I know you will. There’s one more thing.” Walt removed his hat and raked his hand through his sandy hair. “There may be some trouble. Stay clear of Mulberry Street.”
Her stomach cinched tight. She laid her hand on his arm. “Please, don’t do anything you might get in trouble for, or anything dangerous.”
“Me?” He gave her an impish grin. “You should know better than anyone I’m good at not getting caught.” He tapped her nose. “Should I sneak out the back door now?”
She giggled. “How about I dress you up like Charlotte and you can come and go as you please?”
“Don’t tempt me, Hannah. We’re not in grade school anymore.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He didn’t answer, but the look he gave her was far from
“Not until I say my piece. You’ve known me my whole life, so I don’t need to tell you I didn’t run all the way here for the exercise.”
Hannah bit her lip. If her oldest friend needed to talk to her, why should she let rules stand in her way? A few months ago, that would never have happened.
She started to unlock the door. “Let’s go inside.”
“Inside? We can’t do that. Your sisters aren’t home yet. I know because I’ve been knocking for at least a minute.”
“Move it. Now.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him through the door.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a bossy lady?”
“Yes. Frequently.” She stopped inside the front parlor, closed the door behind them, and spun toward him. “So, what’s so important you’d risk my job?”
“That job is exactly why I’m here.” Without being asked to do so, he crossed the room in three long strides and sat down on the tapestry-covered sofa.
“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.
“Thank you. I don’t mind if I do.”
“You are as annoying as a brother.” Hannah went to the window and closed the inch-long gap in the lace curtains as if doing so would keep out any prying eyes. “Get on with it. Why are you here?”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Me? Why?” She sat down on one of the matching parlor chairs, folded her hands in her lap, and studied Walt. The way he casually crossed his ankle over his knee didn’t fool her. His green eyes, always so easy to read, said he’d come because of genuine concern.
He placed his hand on his knee. “You know, when you become a full-fledged operator, you’ll have a choice of whether to join the union or not.”
“I hadn’t thought about that, but I suppose you’re right. Why is that a problem? I know how active you are in the telegraphers’ union. Last year’s strike lasted for weeks.”
He ran his hand over his chin. “There may be another strike. That’s why I’m here.”
“What does that have to do with me? I’m sorry, Walt, but I am not following you.”
“After last year’s strike, six telegraphers—four men and two women—were fired and blacklisted by Western Union management because of their union involvement.”
Hannah pressed her back against the chair. Since second grade, she’d been beside him, and she’d never heard him speak with as much venom as when he spoke about the management. The sound unnerved her, but she remained silent to let him finish.
“Those six telegraphers deserve their jobs back, and we’re willing to strike to get that done. That is, if our other plans fail.” He paced the small room. “Hannah, if we strike, the telephone operators might have to join us. They’d have to honor our strike. Union power lies in stopping the work, or in this case, all communication.”
“Then I won’t join. I need this job to support my sisters.”
“I know, but haven’t you heard of some of the things that canhappen to folks who break union lines? For your own safety, you have to join or at least honor any strike lines.” He stopped and pulled her to her feet. “Please.”
“I’ll do the best I can.”
“I know you will. There’s one more thing.” Walt removed his hat and raked his hand through his sandy hair. “There may be some trouble. Stay clear of Mulberry Street.”
Her stomach cinched tight. She laid her hand on his arm. “Please, don’t do anything you might get in trouble for, or anything dangerous.”
“Me?” He gave her an impish grin. “You should know better than anyone I’m good at not getting caught.” He tapped her nose. “Should I sneak out the back door now?”
She giggled. “How about I dress you up like Charlotte and you can come and go as you please?”
“Don’t tempt me, Hannah. We’re not in grade school anymore.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He didn’t answer, but the look he gave her was far from
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