“What’s that on your breath?” asked someone. “Orange juice?”
The pickets laughed and the day men left. The night gang joined around Rio.
“I’ll take a few of you up there.” Rio pointed to a pile of dunnage. “The rest of you watch the gate. If a Company car comes, give me a light three times and get out. We’ll take care of the rest of it. Don’t talk to the cops unless they talk to you first. Keep your distance from the gate. Have you got a torch you can signal me with, Billy?”
“I got mine here,” said one of the men, pulling out a flashlight.
“Give it to Billy,” said Rio. “He’s worked with me before. Remember, Billy—burn it at me three times.”
It was almost dark and Rio selected his men, including Martin. They walked up the street to an old pile of lumber by a dark pier.
“Get this, boys—no knives. A club’s best, but not a piece of pipe. Work on ’em hard, but don’t kill ’em. You, Eddy—and you, Martin—an’ me’ll hop the runnin’ board. Smash the glass an’ bring her to the side. We got to work fast before brass-buttons shows up.”
“What if they’re Company officials?” asked Martin.
“_They_ won’t be here,” said Rio, amused. “But if they are, give ’em two, instead of one.”
“What’s the matter with ye, sonny?” asked a dwarf-like man with immense shoulders. “Is yer belly soft?” He glared at Martin.
“We’ll find out soon, my muscle-bound patriot,” said Martin walking toward him swiftly.
“I’ll hear one more crack from either of you, an’ I’ll bat your thick skulls together,” said Rio quietly. “Our union is split already. We got work to do, an’ you start a parade. You ain’t fit to work.”
“Shake hands,” said an older man with grizzled hair and an intense, strained face.
“Naw, it was mine,” objected the squat fellow sheepishly as they shook hands.
“You don’t need to kiss,” said Rio sharply. Then he held up his hand. “Get this straight,” he continued. “It ain’t no joke we’re playin’. Maybe this’ll help.” He took a bottle from his pocket and passed it around, each man taking a shot of the liquor. Rio finished it and tossed the bottle under the dunnage. “It’s about time for the rats to come out if they’re goin’ ashore,” he went on. “Keep an eye to the pier.” He turned suddenly to one of the younger seamen. “You ain’t got no club.”