Left to themselves, they would have continued to work.  They were in reality the cheaper tools of the trouble-makers.  There were fewer and keener tools to be used, and these were selected and turned against their employers by that irresistible potency, gold; gold that came from no one knew where, and came in abundance.  Finally open threats of a strike were made.  Circulars were distributed throughout town over-night, cleverly misstating conditions.  A grain of truth was dissolved in the slaver of anarchy into a hundred lies.

Waco, installed in the main I.W.W. camp just outside the town, cooked early and late, and received a good wage for his services.  More men appeared, coming casually from nowhere and taking up their abode with the disturbers.

A week before the strike began, a committee from the union met with a committee of townsmen and representatives of the smelter interests.  The argument was long and inconclusive.  Aside from this, a special committee of townsmen, headed by the mayor, interviewed the I.W.W. leaders.

Arriving at no definite understanding, the citizens finally threatened to deport the trouble-makers in a body.  The I.W.W. members laughed at them.  Socialism, in which many of the better class of workmen believed sincerely, began to take on the red tinge of anarchy.  A notable advocate of arbitration, a foreman in the smelter, was found one morning beaten into unconsciousness.  And no union man had done this thing, for the foreman was popular with the union, to a man.  The mayor received an anonymous letter threatening his life.  A similar letter was received by the chief of police.  And some few politicians who had won to prominence through questionable methods were threatened with exposure if they did not side with the strikers.

Conditions became deplorable.  The papers dared not print everything they knew for fear of political enmity.  And they were not able to print many things transpiring in that festering underworld for lack of definite knowledge, even had they dared.

Noon of an August day the strikers walked out.  Mob rule threatened Sterling.  Women dared no longer send their children to school or to the grocery stores for food.  They hardly dared go themselves.  A striker was shot by a companion in a saloon brawl.  The killing was immediately charged to a corporation detective, and our noble press made much of the incident before it found out the truth.

Shortly after this a number of citizens representing the business backbone of the town met quietly and drafted a letter to a score of citizens whom they thought might be trusted.  That was Saturday evening.  On Sunday night there were nearly a hundred men in town who had been reached by the citizens’ committee.  They elected a sub-committee of twelve, with the sheriff as chairman.  Driven to desperation by intolerable conditions, they decided to administer swift and conclusive justice themselves.  To send for troops would be an admission that the town of Sterling could not handle her own community.