To Him That Hath..............................................................................................................................................1

Ralph Connor ...........................................................................................................................................1

CHAPTER I. THE GAME......................................................................................................................1

CHAPTER II. THE COST OF SACRIFICE.........................................................................................11

CHAPTER III. THE HEATHEN QUEST .............................................................................................18

CHAPTER IV. ANNETTE ....................................................................................................................21

CHAPTER V. THE RECTORY ............................................................................................................27

CHAPTER VI. THE GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE.............................................................................36

CHAPTER VII. THE FOREMAN........................................................................................................43

CHAPTER VIII. FREE SPEECH ..........................................................................................................50

CHAPTER IX. THE DAY BEFORE....................................................................................................59

CHAPTER X. THE NIGHT OF VICTORY.........................................................................................71

CHAPTER XI. THE NEW MANAGER ...............................................................................................85

CHAPTER XII. LIGHT THAT IS DARKNESS..................................................................................99

CHAPTER XIII. THE STRIKE ...........................................................................................................110

CHAPTER XIV. GATHERING CLOUDS .........................................................................................116

CHAPTER XV. THE STORM ............................................................................................................121

CHAPTER XVI. A GALLANT FIGHT ..............................................................................................134

CHAPTER XVII. SHALL BE GIVEN...............................................................................................141

A ripple of cheers ran round the court, followed by a buzz of excited conversation.

The young men smiled at each other and at their friends on the side lines and proceeded to change courts for

"Much too lazy, Captain Jack. I am quite out of patience with you," cried a young girl whose brown eyes

"You, a Canadian, and our best playerat least, you used to beto allow yourself to be beaten by aa"

"A foreigner?" exclaimed Captain Jack. "Better not let Adrien hear you." He turned toward a tall fair girl

"Well, he's not a Canadian, I mean," said Frances, sticking to her guns. "Besides, I can't stand Adrien crowing

over me. She is already far too English, doncheknow. You have given her one more occasion for triumph

"Ah, this is serious," said Captain Jack. "But really it is too hot you know forwhat shall I

"Jack, you are plain lazy," said Frances. "You know you are. You don't deserve to win, but if you really

"Oh, come, Frances. Why! You don't know that my cousin played for his College at Oxford. And that is

"There you are, Jack! That's the sort of thing I have to live with," said Frances. "She thinks that settles

"Oh, Jack, if you have any regard for your country, not to say my unworthy self, won't you humble her?"

"He will need to, eh, Adrien?" said a young fellow standing near, slowly sipping his drink.

"I think so. Indeed, I am quite sure of it," coolly replied the girl addressed. "But I really think it is quite

"Really, old chap, I feel I must beat you this set," said Captain Jack to the young Englishman. "My country's

"Not today," said Stillwell, with a suspicion of a polite sneer in his voice. "My money says so."

"You have no mercy, Miss Frances, I see," said the Englishman, looking straight into her eyes.

"Vae victis, eh, old chap?" said Sidney, as they sauntered off together to their respective courts. "By the way,

who is that Stillwell chap?" he asked in a low voice of Captain Jack as they moved away from the others. "Of

"I think you've got him all right," replied Jack carelessly. The Englishman nodded.

"He rather fancies his own game, too," said Jack, "and he has come on the last year or two. In more ways than

"Canada!" cried a girl's voice that was easily recognised as that of Frances Amory.

"Thumbs down, eh, Maitland?" said the Englishman, waving a hand toward his charming enemy.

Whatever the cause, whether from the spur supplied by the young lady who had constituted herself his

champion or from the sting from the man for whom for reasons sufficient for himself he had only feelings of

hostility and dislike, the game put up by Captain Jack was of quite a different brand from that he had

previously furnished. From the first service he took the offensive and throughout played brilliant, aggressive,

even smashing tennis, so much so that his opponent appeared to be almost outclassed and at the close the

figures of the first set were exactly reversed, standing six to two in Captain Jack's favour.

"My word, old chap, that is tophole tennis," said the Englishman, warmly congratulating him.

"Luck, old boy, brilliant luck!" said Captain Jack. "Couldn't do it again for a bet."

"You must do it just once more," said Frances, coming to meet the players. "Oh, you dear old thing. Come

and be refreshed. Here is the longest, coolest thing in drinks this Club affords. And one for you, too," she

"Did I not? I was at the top of my form," said the Englishman gallantly. "But all in vain, as you see."

"Dear lady," said Captain Jack, affecting supreme exhaustion, "as you are mighty, be merciful! Let it suffice

that we appear to have given you an exposition of fairly respectable tennis. I am quite done."

"All flukes count, eh, Maitland?" laughed Stillwell, unable in spite of his laugh to keep the bite out of his

"Fluke?" exclaimed the Englishman in a slow drawling voice. "I call it ripping good tennis, if I am a judge."

A murmur of approval ran through the company, crowding about with congratulations to both players.

"Oh, of course, of course," said Stillwell, noting the criticism of his unsportsmanlike remark. "What I mean

is, Maitland is clearly out of condition. If he were not I wouldn't mind taking him on myself," he added with

"We will wait till the match is played out," said Stillwell with easy confidence. "Some other day, when you

"Now if you like, or after the match, or any old time," said Captain Jack, looking at Stillwell with hard grey,

Stillwell's face burned a furious red at the little laugh that went round among Captain Jack's friends.

"All right, old chap, if you don't really mind. Though I feel you would certainly take the odd set."

"Not a bit of it, by Jove. I am quite satisfied to let it go at that. We will have another go some time."

"Now, then, Stillwell," said Captain Jack, with a curt nod at him. "Whenever you are ready."

"Oh, come, Maitland. I was only joshing, you know. You don't want to play with me today," said Stillwell,

"Oh, all right," said Stillwell, with an uneasy laugh, going into the Club house for his racquet.

The proposed match had brought a new atmosphere into the Club house, an atmosphere of contest with all the

"I don't like this at all," said a man with iron grey hair and deeply tanned face.

"One can't well object, Russell," said a younger man, evidently a friend of Stillwell's. "Maitland brought it

on, and I hope he gets mighty well trimmed. He is altogether too high and mighty these days."

"Oh, I don't agree with you at all," broke in Frances, in a voice coldly proper. "You heard what Mr. Stillwell

Edwards looked foolishly round upon the circle of men who stood grinning at him.

"Now will you be good?" said a youngster who had led the laugh at Edwards' expense.

"Why, don't you see the joke?" enquired Menzies innocently. "Well, carry on! You will tomorrow."

Meantime the match was making furious progress, with the fury, it must be confessed, confined to one side

only of the net. Captain Jack was playing a driving, ruthless game, snatching and employing without mercy

every advantage that he could legitimately claim. He delivered his service with deadly precision, following

up at the net with a smashing return, which left his opponent helpless. His aggressive tactics gave his

opponent almost no opportunity to score, and he kept the pace going at the height of his speed. The onlookers

were divided in their sentiments. Stillwell had a strong following of his own who expressed their feelings by

their silence at Jack's brilliant strokes and their loud approval of Stillwell's good work when he gave them

opportunity, while many of Maitland's friends deprecated his tactics and more especially his spirit.

At whirlwind pace Captain Jack made the first three games a "love" score, leaving his opponent dazed,

bewildered with his smashing play and blind with rage at his contemptuous bearing.

"I think I must go home, Frances," said Adrien to her friend, her face pale, her head carried high.

"Adrien, you must not go! You simply must not!" she said in a low tense voice. "It will be misunderstood,

"I am going, Frances," said her friend in a cold, clear voice. "I have had enough tennis for this afternoon.

"You simply must not go like that in the middle of a game, Adrien. Wait at least till this game is over," said

Together they made their way round the court almost wholly unobserved, so intent was the crowd upon the

struggle going on before them. As the game finished Adrien laid her hand upon her cousin's arm.

"Haven't you had enough of this?" she said. Her voice carried clear across the court.

"What d'ye say? By Jove, no!" said her cousin in a joyous voice. "This is the most cheering thing I've seen for

many moons, Adrien. Eh, what? Oh, I beg pardon, are you seedy?" he added glancing at her. "Oh, certainly,

"Not at all. Don't think of it. I have a call to make on my way home. Please don't come."

"But, Adrien, I say, this will be over now in a few minutes. Can't you really wait?"

"No, I am not in the least interested in thisthis kind of tennis," she said in a bored voice.

Her tone, pitched rather higher than usual, carried to the ears of the players who were changing ends at the

moment. Both of the men glanced at her. Stillwell's face showed swift gratitude. On Jack's face the shadow

darkened but except for a slight straightening of the line of his lips he gave no sign.

"You are quite sure you don't care?" said Sidney. "You don't want me? This really is great, you know."

"Not for worlds would I drag you away," said Adrien in a cool, clear voice. "Frances will keep you

company." She turned to her friend. "Look after him, Frances," she said. "Goodbye. Dinner at seven

"Righto!" said Sidney, raising his hat in farewell. "By Jove, I wouldn't miss this for millions," he continued,

making room for Frances beside him. "Your young friend is really somewhat violent in his style, eh, what?"

"There are times when violence is the only possible thing," replied Frances grimly.

"Mr. Stillwell? Oh, he is the son of his father, the biggest merchant in Blackwater. Oh, lovely! Beautiful

return! Jack is simply away above his form! And something of a merchant and financier on his own account,

to be quite fair. Making money fast and using it wisely. But I'm not going to talk about him. You see a lot of

"Well, something," replied Sidney. "I can't quite understand the situation, I confess. To be quite frank, I don't

"Yes, at the Rectory doubtless. I would hardly attribute to him a sweet disposition. Oh, quit talking about

him. He had flat feet in the war, I think it was. Jack's twin brother was killed, you knowand minewell,

A swift vision of a brightfaced, cheeryvoiced soldier, feeling his way around a darkened room in the

Amory home, leaped to Sidney's mind and overwhelmed him with pity and selfreproach.

"Dear Miss Frances, will you forgive me? I hadn't quite got on to the thing. I understand the game better

"Now, I don't want to poison your mind. I shouldn't have said thatabout the flat feet, I mean. He goes to

"Please don't worry. We know all about that sort at home," said Sidney, touching her hand for a moment.

"My word, that was a hot one! The flatfooted Johnnie is obviously bewildered. The last game was sheer

If Maitland was not in form there was no sign of it in his work on the court. There was little of courtesy, less

of fun and nothing at all of mercy in his play. From first to last and without reprieve he drove his game

ruthlessly to a finish. So terrific, so resistless were his attacks, so coldly relentless the spirit he showed,

ignoring utterly all attempts at friendly exchange of courtesy, that the unhappy and enraged Stillwell,

becoming utterly demoralized, lost his nerve, lost his control and hopelessly lost every chance he ever

possessed of winning a single game of the set which closed with the score six to nothing.

At the conclusion of the set Stillwell, with no pretense of explanation or apology, left the courts to his enemy

who stood waiting his appearance in a silence so oppressive that it seemed to rest like a pall upon the side

lines. So overwhelming was Stillwell's defeat, so humiliating his exhibition of total collapse of morale that

the company received the result with but slight manifestation of feeling. Without any show of sympathy even

his friends slipped away, as if unwilling to add to his humiliation by their commiseration. On the other side,

the congratulations offered Maitland were for the most part lacking in the spontaneity that is supposed to be

proper to such a smashing victory. Some of his friends seemed to feel as if they had been called upon to

witness an unworthy thing. Not so, however, with either Frances Amory or Sidney Templeton. Both greeted

Captain Jack with enthusiasm and warmth, openly and freely rejoicing in his victory.

"I meant it to be so," said Maitland grimly, "else I should not have played with him."

"Can I give you a lift home, Frances?" said Maitland. "Let us get away. You, too, Templeton," he added to

Sidney, who was lingering near the young lady in obvious unwillingness to leave her side.

"Oh, thanks! Sure you have room?" he said. "All right. You know my cousin left me in your care."

"Oh, indeed! Well, come along then, since our hero is so good. Really, I am uplifted to quite an unusual

"Don't rub it in, Frank," said Jack gloomily. "I made an ass of myself, I know quite well."

"Adrien, for instance, eh?" said Jack with a bitter little laugh, taking his place at the wheel.

"Hello, Captain Jack! Oh, Captain Jack! Wait for me! You have room, haven't you?"

A whirlwind of flashing legs and windblown masses of goldred hair, which realised itself into a young girl

of about sixteen, bore down on the car. It was Adrien's younger sister, Patricia, and at once her pride and her

"Why, Patsy, where on earth did you come from? Of course! Get in! Glad to have you, old chap."

"Oh, Captain Jack, what a game! What a wonderful game! And Rupert has been playing all summer and

"Oh, I don't know exactly. But it was a wonderful game. Of course, one doesn't play tennis like a fight, I

"No! You are quite right, Pat," replied Captain Jack. "You see, I'm afraid I lost my temper a bit, which is

horribly bad form I know, andwell, I wanted to fight rather than play, and of course one couldn't fight on

"Well, I'm glad you didn't fight, Captain Jack. You have had enough of fighting, haven't you? And Rupert is

really very nice, you know. He has a wonderful car and he lets me drive it, and he always brings a box of

The girl laughed a laugh of such infectious jollity that Captain Jack was forced to join with her.

"That's one for you, Captain Jack," she cried. "I know I am a pig where chocs are concerned, and I do love to

drive a car. But, really, Rupert is quite nice. He is so funny. He makes Mamma laugh. Though he does tease

"Not likely!" She glanced behind her at the others in the back seat. She need not have given them a thought,

they were too deeply engrossed to heed her. "Do you know where I was? In the crutch of the big elmyou

"Wouldn't Adrien be shocked?" said the girl, with a deliciously mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Or, at least,

she would pretend to be. Adrien thinks she must train me down a bit, you know. She says I have most awful

manners. She wants Mamma to send me over to England to her school. But I don't want to go, you bet.

Besides, I don't think Dad can afford it so they can't send me. Anyway, I could have good manners if I

wanted to. I could act just like Adrien if I wanted toI mean, for a while. But that was a real game. I felt

sorry for Rupert, a little. You see, he didn't seem to know what to do or how to begin. And you looked so

terrible! Now in the game with Cousin Sidney you were so different, and you played so awfully well, too, but

"Well, I will. The first game everybody loved to watch. The second gamesomehow it made me wish

"Your meaning hits me right in the eye. And you are quite right. The tennis court is no place for a fight, eh?

"But you haven't been playing this summer at all, Captain Jack," said the girl, changing the subject. "Why

not?" The girl's tone was quite severe. "And you don't do a lot of things you used to do, and you don't go to

"Am I different?" he asked slowly. "Well, everybody is different. And then, you know, I am busy. A business

"Oh, I don't believe you a bit. You don't need to be down at the mills all the time. Look at Rupert. He doesn't

"Now you are horrible. Why don't you do as you used to do? You know you could if you wanted to."

"Well, you know, Patsy dear, things are different, and I suppose I am too. I don't care much for a lot of

"You just look as if you didn't care for anything or anybody sometimes, Captain Jack," said Patricia quietly.

Then after a few moments she burst forth: "Oh, don't you remember your hockey team? Oh! oh! oh! I used to

sit and just hold my heart from jumping. It nearly used to choke me when you would tear down the ice with

"Ah, yes," said Captain Jack, with never a smile. "You were just let's seetwelve, was it?"

"Now? Well, I am not exactly a kid. At least, not the same kind of kid. And, as you say, a lot of things are

different. I think I know how you feel. I was like that, tooafterafterHerbert" The girl paused, with

her lips quivering. "It was all different so different. Everything we used to do, I didn't feel like doing. And

I suppose that's the way with you, Captain Jack, with Andyand then your Mother, too." She leaned close to

Captain Jack, sitting up very straight and looking very grave, felt the thrill of the timid touch run through his

very heart. A rush of warm, tender emotion such as he had not allowed himself for many months suddenly

surprised him, filling his eyes and choking his throat. Since his return from the war he had without

knowledge been yearning for just such an understanding touch as this child with her womanly instinct had

given him. He withdrew one hand from the wheel and took the warm clinging fingers tight in his and waited

in silence till he was sure of himself. He drove some blocks before he was quite master of his voice. Then,

"You are a real pal, aren't you, Patsy old girl?" he said with a very bright smile at her.

"I want to be! Oh, I would love to be!" she said, with a swift intake of breath. "And after a while you will be

"Well, not the same, but different from what you are now. No, I don't mean that a bit, Captain Jack. But

perhaps you knowI do want to see you on the ice again. Oh, it would be wonderful! Of course, the old

team wouldn't be thereHerbert and Phil and Andy. Why! You are the only one left! And Rupert." She

added the name doubtfully. "It WOULD be different! oh, so different! Oh! I don't wonder you don't care,

Captain Jack. I won't wonder" There was a little choke in the young voice. "I see it now"

"I think you understand, Patsy, and you are a little brick," said Captain Jack in a low, hurried tone. "And I am

The girl caught his arm tight in her clasped hands and in a low voice she said, "Always and always, Captain

Jack, and evermore." And till they drew up at the Rectory door no more was said.

Maitland drove homeward through the mellow autumn evening with a warmer, kindlier glow in his heart than

he had known through all the dreary weeks that had followed his return from the war. For the war had

wrought desolation for him in a home once rich in the things that make life worth while, by taking from it his

mother, whose rare soul qualities had won and held through her life the love, the passionate, adoring love of

her sons, and his twin brother, the comrade, chum, friend of all his days, with whose life his own had grown

into a complete and ideal unity, deprived of whom his life was left like a body from whose raw and quivering

The war had left his life otherwise bruised and maimed in ways known only to himself.

Returning thus from his souldevastating experience of war to find his life desolate and maimed in all that

gave it value, he made the appalling discovery that he was left almost alone of all whom he had known and

loved in past days. For of his close friends none were left as before. For the most part they were lying on one

or other of the five battle fronts of the war. Others had found service in other spheres. Only one was still in

his home town, poor old Phil Amory, Frances' brother, halfblind in his darkened room, but to bring anything

of his own heart burden to that brave soul seemed sacrilege or worse. True enough, he was passing through

the new and thrilling experience of making acquaintance with his father. But old Grant Maitland was a hard

man to know, and they were too much alike in their reserve and in their poverty of selfexpression to make

Hence in Maitland's heart there was an almost extravagant gratitude toward this young generoushearted girl

whose touch had thrilled his heart and whose voice with its passionate note of loyal and understanding

comradeship still sang like music in his soul, "Always and always, Captain Jack, and evermore."

"By Jove, I have got to find some way of playing up to that," he said aloud, as he turned from the gravelled

driveway into the street. And in the months that followed he was to find that the search to which he then

committed himself was to call for the utmost of the powers of soul which were his.

Perrotte was by all odds the best allround man in the planing mill, and for the simple reason that for fifteen

years he had followed the lumber from the raw wood through the various machines till he knew woods and

machines and their ways as no other in the mill unless it was old Grant Maitland himself. Fifteen years ago

Perrotte had drifted down from the woods, beating his way on a lumber train, having left his winter's pay

behind him at the verge of civilisation, with old Joe Barbeau and Joe's "chucker out." It was the "chucker out"

that dragged him out of the "snake room" and, all unwitting, had given him a flying start toward a better life.

Perrotte came to Maitland when the season's work was at its height and every saw and planer were roaring

"Want a job?" Maitland had shouted over the tearing saw at him. "What can you do?"

"See that slab? Grab it, pile it yonder. The boards, slide over the shoot." For these were still primitive days

Perrotte grabbed the slab, heaved it down to its pile of waste, the next board he slid into the shoot, and so

"Nottingme bon," said Perrotte, and, clutching at the door jamb, hung there gasping.

Maitland's keen blue eyes searched his face. "Huh! When did you last eat? Come! No lying!"

"Here, boy," shouted Maitland to a chore lad slouching by, "jump for that cook house and fetch a cup of

The boss' tone injected energy into the gawky lad. In three minutes Perrotte was seated on a pile of slabs,

drinking a cup of coffee; in five minutes more he stood up, ready for "(h)anny man, (h)anny ting." But

"Fill this man up," he said, "and then show him where to sleep. And, Perrotte, tomorrow morning at seven

That was fifteen years ago, and, barring certain "jubilations," Perrotte made good his prophecy. He brought

up from the Ottawa his Irish wife, a clever woman with her tongue but a housekeeper that scandalised her

thrifty, tidy, FrenchCanadian motherinlaw, and his two children, a boy and a girl. Under the supervision

of his boss he made for his family a home and for himself an assured place in the Blackwater Mills. His

children fell into the hands of a teacher with a true vocation for his great work and a passion for young life.

Under his hand the youth of the rapidly growing mill village were saved from the sordid and souldebasing

influences of their environment, were led out of the muddy streets and canstrewn back yards to those far

heights where dwell the high gods of poesy and romance. From the master, too, they learned to know their

own wonderful woods out of which the nearby farms had been hewn. Many a home, too, owed its bookshelf

The Perrotte children were prepared for High School by the master's quiet but determined persistence. To the

"Your boy is quickwhy should not Tony be a master of men some day? Give him a chance to climb."

"Oui, by gar! Antoine he's smart lee'le feller. I mak him steeck on his book, you mak him one big boss on

To the mother the master spoke of social advantages. The empty headed Irish woman who had all the quick

wit and cleverness of tongue characteristic of her race was determined that her girl Annette should learn to be

as stylish as "them that tho't themselves her betters." So the children were kept at school by their fondly

At the Public School, that greatest of all democratic institutions, the Perrotte children met the town youth of

their own age, giving and taking on equal terms, sharing common privileges and advantages and growing into

a community solidarity all their own, which in later years brought its own harvest of mingling joy and

With the girl Annette one effect of the Public School and its influences, educational and social, was to reveal

to her the depth of the educational and social pit from which she had been taken. Her High School training

might have fitted her for the teaching profession and completed her social emancipation but for her vain and

thriftless mother, who, socially ambitious for herself but more for her handsome, clever children, found

herself increasingly embarrassed for funds. She lacked the means with which to suitably adorn herself and her

children for the station in life to which she aspired and for which good clothes were the prime equipment and

to "eddicate" Tony as he deserved. Hence when Annette had completed her second year at the High School

her mother withdrew her from the school and its associations and found her a place in the new Fancy Box

Factory, where girls could obtain "an illigant and refoined job with good pay as well."

This change in Annette's outlook brought wrathful disappointment to the head master, Alex Day, who had

taken a very special pride in Annette's brilliant school career and who had outlined for her a University

course. To Annette herself the ending of her school days was a bitter grief, the bitterness of which would

have been greatly intensified had she been able to measure the magnitude of the change to be wrought in her

life by her mother's foolish vanity and unwise preference of her son's to her daughter's future.

The determining factor in Annette's submission to her mother's will was consideration for her brother and his

career. For while for her father she cherished an affectionate pride and for her mother an amused and

protective pity, her great passion was for her brotherher handsome, vivacious, audacious and mercurial

brother, Tony. With him she counted it only joy to share her all too meagre wages whenever he found himself

in financial straits. And a not infrequent situation this was with Tony, who, while he seemed to have inherited

from his mother the vivacity, quick wit and general emptyheadedness, from his father got nothing of the

thrift and patient endurance of grinding toil characteristic of the French Canadian habitant. But he did get

from his father a capacity for the knowing and handling of machinery, which amounted almost to genius. Of

the father's steadiness under the grind of daily work which had made him the head mechanic in the Mill,

Tony possessed not a tittle. What he could get easily he got, and getting this fancied himself richly endowed,

knowing not how slight and superficial is the equipment for life's stern fight that comes without sweat of

brain and body. His cleverness deceived first himself and then his family, who united in believing him to be

destined for high place and great things. Only two of those who had to do with him in his boyhood weighed

him in the balance of truth. One was his Public School master, who labored with incessant and painful care to

awaken in him some glimmer of the need of preparation for that bitter fight to which every man is appointed.

The other was Grant Maitland, whose knowledge of men and of life, gained at cost of desperate conflict,

made the youth's soul an open book to him. Recognising the boy's aptitude, he had in holiday seasons set

Tony behind the machines in his planing mill, determined for his father's sake to make of him a mechanical

engineer. To Tony each new machine was a toy to be played with; in a week or two he had mastered it and

grown weary of it. Thenceforth he slacked at his work and became a demoralizing influence in his

department, a source of anxiety to his steadygoing father, a plague to his employer, till the holiday time was

"Were you my son, my lad, I'd soon settle you," Grant Maitland would say, when the boy was ready to go

back to his school. "You will make a mess of your life unless you can learn to stick at your job. The roads are

But Tony only smiled his brilliant smile at him, as he took his pay envelope, which burned a hole in his

pocket till he had done with it. When the next holiday came round Tony would present himself for a job with

Jack Maitland to plead for him. For to Tony Jack was as king, to whom he gave passionate loyalty without

stint or measure. And thus for his son Jack's sake, Jack's father took Tony on again, resolved to make another

The bond between the two boys was hard to analyse. In games at Public and High School Jack was always

Captain and Tony his right hand man, held to his place and his training partly by his admiring devotion to

his Captain but more by a wholesome dread of the inexorable disciplinary measures which slackness or

trifling with the rules of the game would inevitably bring him. Jack Maitland was the one being in Tony's

world who could put lasting fear into his soul or steadiness into his practice. But even Jack at times failed.

Then when both were eighteen they went to the War, Jack as an Officer, Tony as a NonCommissioned

Officer in the same Battalion, Jack hating the bloody business but resolute to play this great game of duty as

he played all games for all that was in him, Tony aglow at first with the movement and glitter and later mad

with the lust for deadly daring that was native to his Keltic Gallic soul. They returned with their respective

decorations of D. S. O. and Military Medal and each with the stamp of war cut deep upon him, in keeping

The return to peace was to them, as to the thousands of their comrades to whom it was given to return, a

shock almost as great as had been the adventure of war. In a single day while still amid the scenes and with

all the paraphernalia of war about them an unreal and bewildering silence had fallen on them. Like men in the

unearthly realities of a dream they moved through their routine duties, waiting for the orders that would bring

that wellknown, sickening, savage tightening of their courage and send them, laden like beasts of burden, up

once more to that hell of blood and mud, of nerveshattering shell, of blinding glare and earbursting roar of

gun fire, and, worse than all, to the place where, crouching in the farcical deceptive shelter of the sandbagged

trench, their fingers gripping into the steel of their rifle hands, they would wait for the zero hour. But as the

weeks passed and the orders failed to come they passed from that bewildering and subconscious anxious

waiting, to an experience of wildly exultant, hysterical abandonment. They were done with all that long

horror and terror; they were never to go back into it again; they were going back home; the New Day had

dawned; war was no more, nor ever would be again. Back to home, to waiting hearts, to shining eyes, to

Thereafter, when some weeks of peace had passed and the drums of peace had fallen quiet and the rushing,

crowding, hurrahing people had melted away, and the streets and roads were filled again with men and

women bent on business, with engagements to keep, the returned men found themselves with dazed, listless

mind waiting for orders from someone, somewhere, or for the next movie show to open. But they were

unwilling to take on the humdrum of making a living, and were in most cases incapable of initiating a

congenial method of employing their powers, their newfound, splendid, glorious powers, by means of which

they had saved an empire and a world. They had become common men again, they in whose souls but a few

Small wonder that some of these men, tingling with the consciousness of powers of which these busy,

engaged people of the streets and shops knew nothing, turned with disdain from the petty, paltry, many of

them nonmanly tasks that men pursued solely that they might live. Live! For these last terrible, great and

glorious fifty months they had schooled themselves to the notion that the main business of life was not to

live. There had been for them a thing to do infinitely more worth while than to live. Indeed, had they been

determined at all costs to live, then they had become to themselves, to their comrades, and indeed to all the

world, the most despicable of all living things, deserving and winning the infinite contempt of all true men.

While the "gratuity money" lasted life went merrily enough, but when the last cheque had been cashed, and

the grim reality that rations had ceased and Q. M. Stores were not longer available thrust itself vividly into

the face of the demobilised veteran, and when after experiencing in job hunting varying degrees of

humiliation the same veteran made the startling and painful discovery that for his wares of heroic

selfimmolation, of dogged endurance done up in khaki, there was no demand in the bloodless but none the

less strenuous conflict of living; and that other discovery, more disconcerting, that he was not the man he had

been in prewar days and thought himself still to be, but quite another, then he was ready for one of two

alternatives, to surrender to the inevitable dictum that after all life was really not worth a fight, more

particularly if it could be sustained without one, or, to fling his hat into the Bolshevist ring, ready for the old

thing, warwar against the enemies of civilisation and his own enemies, against those who possessed things

which he very much desired but which for some inexplicable cause he was prevented from obtaining.

The former class, to a greater or less degree, Jack Maitland represented; the latter, Tony Perrotte. From their

war experience they were now knit together in bonds that ran into life issues. Together they had faced war's

ultimate horror, together they had emerged with imperishable memories of sheer heroic manhood mutually

At Jack's request Tony had been given the position of a Junior Foreman in one of the planing mill

"You can have anything you are fit for, Tony, in any of the mills. I feel that I owe you, that we both owe you

"Mr. Maitland, neither you nor Jack owes me anything. Jack has paid, and more than once, all he owed me.

But," with a rueful smile, "don't expect too much from me in this job. I can't see myself making it go."

"My best? That's a hard thing. Give me a bayonet and set some Huns before me, and I'll do my best. This is

"Different, yet the same. The same qualities make for success. You have the brains and with your gift for

machineryWell, try it. You and Jack here will make this go between you, as you made the other go."

"Yes, I can stick, I suppose, but, after allwell, we'll have a go at it, anyway. But, like Tony, I feel like

"Only your best, Jack, that's all. Take three months, six months, a year, and get hold of the office end of the

business. You have brains enough. I want a General Manager right now, Wickes is hardly up to it. He knows

the books and he knows the works but he knows nothing else. He doesn't know men nor markets. He is an

office man pure and simple, and he's old, too old. The fact is, Jack, I have to be my own Manager inside and

outside. My foremen are good, loyal, reliable fellows, but they only know their orders. I want someone to

stand beside me. The plant has been doubled in capacity during the war. We did a lot of war

workaeroplane parts. We got the spruce in the raw and worked it up, good work, too, if I do say it myself.

"I know something about that, Dad. I had a day with Badgley in Toronto. I know something about it, and I

"The money? Of course, I couldn't take the moneyhow could I with my boys at the war, and other men's

"Rather not. My God, Dad, if I thought! But what's the use talking? They know in London all about the

Ambulance Equipment and the Machine Gun Battery, and the Hospital. Do you know why Caramus took a

job in the Permanent Force in England? It was either that or blowing out his brains. He could not face his

"Caramus was in charge of that Machine Gun Section that held the line and let us get back. Every man wiped

out, and Caramus carried back smashed to small piecesand his father making a million out of munitions!

"Poor old Caramus! I saw him in the City a month ago," said the father. "I pitied the poor wretch. He was

"He deserves itall of it, and all who like him have got fat on blood money. Do you know, Dad, when I see

those men going about in the open and no one kicking them I get fairly sick. I don't wonder at some of the

boys seeing red. You mark my words, we are going to have bad times in this country before long."

"I am afraid of it, boy. Things look ugly. Even in our own works I feel a bad spirit about. There are some

newcomers from the old country whom I can't say I admire much. They grouch and they won't work. Our

production is lower than ever in our history and our labor cost is more than twice what it was in 1914."

"Well, Dad, give them a little time to settle down. I have no more use for a slacker than I have for a war

"We can't stand much of that thing. Financially we are in fairly good shape. We broke even with our

aeroplane work. But we have a big stock of spruce on handhighpriced stuff, tooand a heavy, very

heavy overhead. We shall weather it all right. I don't mind the wages, but we must have production. And

"You must not depend on me for much use for some time at least. I know a little about handling men but

"Never fear, boy, you've got the machine instinct in you. I remember your holiday work in the mill, you see.

But your place is in the office. Wickes will show you the ropes, and you will make good, I know. And I just

want to say that you don't know how glad I am to have you come in with me, Jack. If your brother had come

"Poor old Andy! He had your genius for the business. I wish he had been the one to get back!"

"We had not the choosing, Jack, and if he had come we should have felt the same about you. God knows

"Well, Dad," said Jack, rising and standing near his father's chair, "as I said before, I'll make a go at it, but

"I am counting a lot on you. You are all I have now." The father's voice ended in a husky whisper. The boy

swallowed the rising lump in his throat but could find no more words to go on with. But in his heart there was

the resolve that he would make an honest try to do for his father's sake what he would not for his own.

But before a month had gone he was heartily sick of the office. It was indoors, and the petty fussing with

trivial details irked him. Accuracy was a sine qua non of successful office work, and accuracy is either a thing

of natural gift or is the result of long and painful discipline, and neither by nature nor by discipline had Jack

come into the possession of this prime qualification for a successful office man. His ledger wellnigh brought

tears to old Wickes' eyes and added a heavy load to his day's work. Not that old Wickes grudged the extra

burden, much less made any complaint; rather did he count it joy to be able to cover from other eyes than his

Had it seemed worth while, Jack would have disciplined himself to accuracy. But what was the end of it all?

A larger plant with more machines to buy and more men to work them and to be overseen and to be paid, a

few more figures in a Bank Bookwhat else? Jack's tastes were simple. He despised the ostentation of

wealth in the accumulation of mere things. He had only pity for the plunger and for the loose liver contempt.

Why should he tie himself to a desk, a well appointed desk it is true, but still a desk, in a fourwalled room, a

much finer room than his father had ever known, but a room which became to him a cage. Why? Of course,

there was his fatherand Jack wearily turned to his correspondence basket, sick of the sight of paper and

letter heads and cost forms and production reports. For his father's sake, who had only him, he would carry

on. And carry on he did, doggedly, wearily, bored to death, but sticking it. The reports from the works were

often ominous. Things were not going well. There was an undercurrent of unrest among the men.

"I don't wonder at it," said Jack to old Wickes one day, when the bookkeeper set before him the week's pay

sheet and production sheet, side by side. "After all, why should the poor devils work for us?"

"For us, sir?" said the shocked Wickes. "For themselves, surely. What would they do for a living if there was

"Because they want to! Wait till you see 'em sick, sir. My word! They do make haste for the Doctor."

"I fancy they do, Wickes. But all the same, I don't wonder that they grouch a bit."

"'Tis not the grumbling, sir, I deplore," said Wickes, "if they would only work, or let the machines work.

That's the trouble, sir. Why, sir, when I came to your father, sir, we never looked at the clock, we kept our

"Thirtyone years, sir, come next Michaelmas. And glad I was to get the job, too. You see, sir, I had just

"Thirtyone years! Great Caesar! And you've worked at this desk for thirtyone years! And what have you

"Well, sir, not what you might call a terrible lot. I hadn't the eddication for much, as you might

saybutwell, there's my little home, and we've lived happy there, the missus and me, and the kids at

"You're right, Wickes, by Jove," exclaimed Jack, starting from his seat and gripping the old man's hand. "You

have made a lot out of itand you gave as fine a boy as ever stepped in uniform to your country. We were

"I know that, sir, and he often wrote the wife about you, sir, which we don't forget, sir. Of course, it's hard on

"By the way, Wickes, how are they doing? Two of them, aren't there? Let's seethere's Steve, he's the

"No, sir, he's the youngest, sir. Robert is the eldestfourteen, and quite clever at his books. Pity he's got to

"He's twelve. The back hurts a lot, but he is happy enough, if you give him a pencil. They're all with us now."

"Ah, well, well. I think you have made something out of it after all, Wickes. And we must see about Robert."

Thirtyone years at the desk! And to show for it a home for his wife and himself, a daughter in a home of her

own, a son dead for his country, leaving behind him a wife and two lads to carry the namewas it worth

while? Yes, by Jove, it was worth it all to be able to give a man like Stephen Wickes to his country. For

Stephen Wickes was a fine stalwart lad, a good soldier, steady as a rock, with a patient, cheery courage that

Jack had no thought of wife and family. There was Adrien. She had been a great pal before the war, but since

his return she had seemed different. Everyone seemed different. The war had left many gaps, former pals had

formed other ties, many had gone from the town. Even Adrien had drifted away from the old currents of life.

She seemed to have taken up with young Stillwell, whom Jack couldn't abide. Stillwell had been turned down

by the Recruiting Officer during the warflat feet, or something. True, he had done great service in Red

Cross, Patriotic Fund, Victory Loan work, and that sort of thing, and apparently stood high in the

Community. His father had doubled the size of his store and had been a great force in all public war work. He

had spared neither himself nor his son. The elder Stillwell, high up in the Provincial Political world, saw to it

that his son was on all the big Provincial War Committees. Rupert had all the shrewd foresight and business

ability of his father, which was saying a good deal. He began to assume the role of a promising young

capitalist. The sources of his income no one knewfortunate investments, people said. And his Hudson Six

stood at the Rectory gate every day. Well, not even for Adrien would Jack have changed places with Rupert

Stillwell. For Jack Maitland held the extreme and, in certain circles, unpopular creed that the citizen who

came richer out of a war which had left his country submerged in debt, and which had drained away its best

blood and left it poorer in its manhood by wellnigh seventy thousand of its noblest youth left upon the

battlefields of the various war fronts and by the hundreds of thousands who would go through life a burden to

themselves and to those to whom they should have been a supportthat citizen was accursed. If Adrien

chose to be a friend of such a man, by that choice she classified herself as impossible of friendship for Jack. It

had hurt a bit. But what was one hurt more or less to one whom the war had left numb in heart and bereft of

ambition? He was not going to pity himself. He was lucky indeed to have his body and nerve still sound and

whole, but they need not expect him to show any great keenness in the chase for a few more thousands that

would only rank him among those for whom the war had not done so badly. Meantime, for his father's sake,

who, thank God, had given his best, his heart's best and the best of his brain and of his splendid business

genius to his country, he would carry on, with no other reward than that of service rendered.

They stood together by the open fire in the study, Jack and his father, alike in many ways yet producing

effects very different. The younger man had the physical makeup of the older, though of a slighter mould.

They had the same high, proud look of conscious strength, of cool fearlessness that nothing could fluster. But

the soul that looked out of the grey eyes of the son was quite another from that which looked out of the deep

blue eyes of the father yet, after all, the difference may not have been in essence but only that the older

The soul of the youth was eager, adventurous, still believing, yet with a certain questioning and a touch of

weariness, a result of the aftermath of peace following three years of war. There was still, however, the

outlooking for far horizons, the outreaching imagination, the Heaven given expectation of the Infinite. In the

older man's eye dwelt chiefly reserve. The veil was always there except when he found it wise and useful to

draw it aside. If ever the inner light flamed forth it was when the man so chose. Self mastery, shrewdness,

But tonight as the father's eyes rested upon his son who stood gazing into and through the blazing fire there

were to be seen only pride and wistful love. But as the son turned his eyes toward his father the veil fell and

The talk had passed beyond the commonplace of the day's doings. They were among the big things, the

fateful thingLife and Its Worth, Work and Its Wages, Creative Industry and Its Product, Capital and Its

They were frank with each other. The war had done that for them. For ever since the night when his

eighteenyearold boy had walked into his den and said, "Father, I am eighteen," and stood looking into his

eyes and waiting for the word that came straight and unhesitating, "I know, boy, you are my son and you

must go, for I cannot," ever since that night, which seemed now to belong to another age, these two had faced

"I'm really sorry. I'm afraid anyone can see it. But somehow I can't put much pep into it."

"Why? Well, I hardly know. Somehow it hardly seems worth while. It is not the grind of the office, though

"What would you rather do, Jack?" enquired his father patiently, as if talking to a child. "You tried for the

"I know, I know, you are quite right about it. You may think it pure laziness. Maybe it is, but I hardly think

so. Perhaps I went back to lectures too soon after the war. I was hardly fit, I guess, and the whole thing, the

inside life, the infernal grind of lectures, the idiotic serious mummery of the youngsters, those blessed kids

who should have been spanked by their mothersthe whole thing sickened me in three months. If I had

waited perhaps I might have done better at the thing. I don't knowhard to tell." The boy paused, looking

"It was my fault, boy," said the father hastily. "I ought to have figured the thing out differently. But, you see,

I had no knowledge of what you had gone through and of its effect upon you. I know better now. I thought

that the harder you went into the work the better it would be for you. I made a mistake."

"Well, you couldn't tell, Dad. How could you? But everything was so different when I came back. Mere kids

were carrying on where we had been, and doing it well, too, by Jove, and we didn't seem to be needed."

"Yes, but I didn't see that then. Selfish, I fear. Then, you know, home was not the same"

"Selfish? Don't say that, my lad. Selfish? After all you had gone through? No, I shall never apply that word to

you, but you you don't seem to realise" The father hesitated a few moments, then, as if taking a plunge:

"You don't realise just how big a thinghow big an investment there is in that business down there." His

hand swept toward the window through which could be seen the lights of that part of the town which

"There's $250,000 in plant alone, boy, but there's more than money, a lot more than money" Then, after a

pause, as if to himself, "A lot more than moneythere's brain sweat and heart agony and prayers and

tearsand, yes, life, boy, your mother's life and mine. We worked and saved and prayed and planned"

He stepped quickly toward the window, drew aside the curtain and pointed to a dark mass of headland

"You see the Bluff there. Fifty years ago I stood with my father on that Bluff and watched the logs come

down the river to the sawmillhis sawmill, into which he had put his total capital, five hundred dollars. I

remember well his words, 'My son, if you live out your life you will see on that flat a town where thousands

of men and women will find homes and, please God, happiness.' Your mother and I watched that town grow

for forty years, and we tried to make people happyat least, if they were not it was no fault of hers. Of

course, other hands have been at the work since then, but her hands and mine more than any other, and more

The boy turned from the window and sat down heavily in a deep armchair, his hands covering his face. His

heart was still sick with the ache that had smitten it that day in front of Amiens when the Colonel, his father's

friend, had sent for him and read him the wire which had brought the terrible message of his mother's death.

The long months of days and nights heavy with watching, toiling, praying, agonising, for her twin sons, and

for the many boys who had gone out from the little town wore out her none too robust strength. Then, the

sniper's bullet that had pierced the heart of her boy seemed to reach to her heart as well. After that, the home

that once had been to its dwellers the most completely heart satisfying spot in all the world became a place

of dread, of haunting ghosts, of acutely poignant memories. They used the house for sleeping in and for

eating in, but there was no living in it longer. To them it was a tomb, though neither would acknowledge it

"For my sake, boy? Why, I have all of it I care for. Not for my sake. But what else can we do but stick it?"

"I suppose sobut for Heaven's sake give me something worth a man's doing. If I could tackle a job such as

you and"the boy winced"you and mother took on I believe I'd try it. But that office! Any fool could sit

in my place and carry on. It is like the job they used to give to the crocks or the slackers at the base to do.

"A man's job?" he said, with a grim smile, realising as his son did not how much of a man's job it was.

"Boy, you are rightI believe in my soul you are right. You did a man's job 'out there' and you have it in you

The son shrugged his shoulders. Next morning at seven they were down at the planing mill where men were

doing men's work. He was at a man's job, at the tail of a saw, and drawing a man's pay, rubbing shoulders

with men on equal terms, as he had in the trenches. And for the first time since Armistice Day, if not happy or

Sam Wigglesworth had finished with school, which is not quite the same as saying that he had finished his

education. A number of causes had combined to bring this event to pass. First, Sam was beyond the age of

compulsory attendance at the Public School, the School Register recording him as sixteen years old. Then,

Sam's educational career had been anything but brilliant. Indeed, it might fairly be described as dull. All his

life he had been behind his class, the biggest boy in his class, which fact might have been to Sam a constant

cause of humiliation had he not held as of the slightest moment merely academic achievements. One

unpleasant effect which this fact had upon Sam's moral quality was that it tended to make him a bully. He

was physically the superior of all in his class, and this superiority he exerted for what he deemed the

discipline of younger and weaker boys, who excelled him in intellectual attainment.

Furthermore, Sam, while quite ready to enforce the code of discipline which he considered suitable to the

smaller and weaker boys in his class, resented and resisted the attempts of constituted authority to enforce

discipline in his own case, with the result that Sam's educational career was, after much long suffering,

"With great regret I must report," his letter to the School Board ran, "that in the case of Samuel Wigglesworth

I have somehow failed to inculcate the elementary principles of obedience to school regulations and of

adherence to truth in speech. I am free to acknowledge," went on the letter, "that the defect may be in myself

as much as in the boy, but having failed in winning him to obedience and truthtelling, I feel that while I

remain master of the school I must decline to allow the influence of this youth to continue in the school. A

wholehearted penitence for his many offences and an earnest purpose to reform would induce me to give

him a further trial. In the absence of either penitence or purpose to reform I must regretfully advise

Joyfully the School Board, who had for months urged upon the reluctant head this action, acquiesced in the

course suggested, and Samuel was forthwith expelled, to his own unmitigated relief but to his father's red and

raging indignation at what he termed the "(h)ignorant persecution of their betters by these (h)insolent

Colonials," for "'is son 'ad 'ad the advantages of schools of the 'ighest standin' in (H)England."

Being expelled from school Sam forthwith was brought by his father to the office of the mills, where he

himself was employed. There he introduced his son to the notice of Mr. Grant Maitland, with request for

"Naw. Public School." Wigglesworth Sr.'s tone indicated no exalted opinion of the Public School.

"Uh?" Sam's mental faculties had been occupied in observing the activities and guessing the probable fate of

a lumberjack gaily decked in scarlet sash and blue overalls, who was the central figure upon a flaming

calendar tacked up behind Mr. Maitland's desk, setting forth the commercial advantages of trading with the

"Yes, what grade in the Public School were you in when you left?" The blue eyes of the boss was "borin'

'oles" through Sam and the voice pierced like a "bleedin' gimblet," as Wigglesworth, Sr., reported to his

Sam hesitated a bare second. "Fourth grade it was," he said with sullen reluctance.

"'Adn't no chance, Samuel 'adn't. Been a delicate child ever since 'is mother stopped suckin' 'im," explained

"'E don't look it," continued Mr. Wigglesworth, noting the keen glance, "but 'e's never been (h)able to bide

"Hisahbrain?" Again the blue eyes appraised the boy, this time scanning critically his face for indication

"'Is brain, sir," earnestly reiterated the sympathetic parent. "'Watch that (h)infant's brain,' sez the Doctor to the

missus when she put 'im on the bottle. And you know, we 'ave real doctors in (H)England, sir. 'Watch 'is

brain,' sez 'e, and, my word, the care 'is ma 'as took of that boy's brain is wunnerful, is fair beautiful, sir." Mr.

Wigglesworth's voice grew tremulous at the remembrance of that maternal solicitude.

"Well, sir, not (h)exackly," said Mr. Wigglesworth, momentarily taken aback, "though w'en I comes to think

on it that must a been at the bottom of it. You see, w'en Samuel went at 'is books of a night 'e'd no more than

begin at a sum an' 'e'd say to 'is ma, 'My brain's awhirlin', ma', just like that, and 'is ma would 'ave to pull 'is

book away, just drag it away, you might say. Oh, 'e's 'ad a 'ard time, 'as Samuel." At this point the boss

received a distinct shock, for, as his eyes were resting upon Samuel's face meditatively while he listened

somewhat apathetically, it must be confessed, to the father's moving tale, the eye of the boy remote from the

"Yes, sir, 'e's caused 'is ma many a (h)anxious hour, 'as Samuel." Again the eye closed in a slow and solemn

wink. "And we thought, 'is ma and me, that we would like to get Samuel into some easy job"

"Oh, it was them sums, sir, an' the Jography and the 'Istory an' the Composition, an', an'wot else, Samuel?

You see, these 'ere schools ain't a bit like the schools at 'ome, sir. They're so confusing with their subjecks.

"Boy," he said sharply to Samuel, whose eyes had again become fixed upon the gay and daring lumberjack.

Samuel recalled himself with visible effort. "Why did you leave school? The truth, mind." The "borin'" eyes

"That will do, Wigglesworth," said Mr. Maitland, holding up his hand. "Sam, you come and see me tomorrow

Sam nodded. After they had departed there came through the closed office door the sound of Mr.

Wigglesworth's voice lifted in violent declamation, but from Sam no answering sound could be heard.

The school suffered no noticeable loss in the intellectual quality of its activities by the removal of the

whirling brain and incidentally its physical integument of Samuel Wigglesworth. To the smaller boys the

absence of Sam brought unbounded joy, more especially during the hours of recess from study and on their

More than any other, little Steve Wickes rejoiced in Sam's departure from school. Owing to some mysterious

arrangement of Sam's brain cells he seemed to possess an abnormal interest in observing the sufferings of any

animal. The squirming of an unfortunate fly upon a pin fascinated him, the sight of a wretched dog driven

mad with terror rushing frantically down a street, with a tin can dangling to its tail, convulsed him with

shrieking delight. The more highly organised the suffering animal, the keener was Sam's joy. A child, for

instance, flying in a paroxysm of fear from Sam's hideously contorted face furnished acute satisfaction. It fell

naturally enough that little Steve Wickes, the timid, shrinking, humpbacked son of the dead soldier, Stephen

Wickes, afforded Sam many opportunities of rare pleasure. It was Sam that coined and, with the aid of his

sycophantic following never wanting to a bully, fastened to the child the nickname of "Humpy Wicksy,"

working thereby writhing agony in the lad's highly sensitive soul. But Sam did not stay his hand at the

infliction of merely mental anguish. It was one of his favorite forms of sport to seize the child by the collar

and breeches and, swinging him high over head, hold him there in an anguish of suspense, awaiting the

threatened drop. It is to be confessed that Sam was not entirely without provocation at the hands of little

Steve, for the lad had a truly uncanny cunning hidden in his pencil, by means of which Sam was held up in

caricature to the surreptitious joy of his schoolmates. Sam's departure from school deprived him of the full

opportunity he formerly enjoyed of indulging himself in his favourite sport. On this account he took the more

eager advantage of any opportunity that offered still to gratify his taste in this direction.

Sauntering sullenly homeward from his interview with the boss and with his temper rasped to a raw edge by

his father's wrathful comments upon his "dommed waggin' tongue," he welcomed with quite unusual

eagerness the opportunity for indulging himself in his pastime of baiting Humpy Wicksy whom he overtook

"Come back, you little beast. Do you hear me? I'll learn you to come when you're called," he shouted,

catching the terrified lad and heaving him aloft in his usual doublehanded grip.

"Let me down, you! Leave me alone now," shrieked the boy, squirming, scratching, biting like an infuriated

"Bite, would you?" said Sam, flinging the boy down. "Now then," catching him by the legs and turning him

over on his stomach, "we'll make a wheelbarrow of you. Gee up, Buck! Want a ride, boys?" he shouted to his

While the unhappy Steve, shrieking prayers and curses, was struggling vainly to extricate himself from the

hands gripping his ankles, Annette Perrotte, stepping smartly along the street on her way from the box

factory, came past the entrance to the lane. By her side strode a broadshouldered, upstanding youth.

"What are those boys at, I wonder?" she said. "There's that big lout of a Wigglesworth boy. He's up to no

"He's hurting someone," said Annette, starting down the lane. "What? I believe it's that poor child, Steve

Wickes." Like a wrathful fury she dashed in upon Sam and his company of tormentors and, knocking the

"You great brute!" She seized him by his thatch of thick red hair and with one mighty swing she hurled him

clear of Steve and dashed him head on against the lane fence. Sheer surprise held Sam silent for a few

seconds, but as he felt the trickle of warm blood run down his face and saw it red upon his hand, his surprise

"I hope so," said Annette, holding Steve in her arms and seeking to quiet his sobbing. But as she saw the

"For the love of Mike, Mack, see if he's hurt," she said in a low voice to her companion.

"Not he! He's makin' too much noise," said the young man. "Here, you young bull, wait till I see what's

"Get away from me, I tell you. Ouw! Ouw! I'm dying, and they'll hang her. Ouw! Ouw! I'm killed, and I'm

just glad I am, for she'll be hung to death." Here Sam broke into a vigorous stream of profanity.

"'Ello! Wot's (h)up?" cried a voice. It was Mr. Wigglesworth on his way home from the mill. "Why, bless my

living lights, if it bean't Samuel. Who's been a beatin' of you, Sammy?" His eye swept the crowd. "'Ave you

been at my lad?" he asked, stepping toward the young man, whom Annette named Mack.

"Aw, steady up, man. There's naethin' much wrang wi' the lada wee scratch on the heid frae fa'in' against

"Who 'it 'im, I say?" shouted Mr. Wigglesworth. "Was it you?" he added, squaring up to the young man.

"No, it wasn't, Mr. Wigglesworth. It was me." Mr. Wigglesworth turned on Annette who, now that Sam's

bellowing had much abated with the appearance of his father upon the scene, had somewhat regained her

"Hey, mon, guairrd y're tongue a bit," said Mack. "Mind ye're speakin' to a leddy."

"Aye, a leddy!" said Mack. "An' mind what ye say aboot her tae. Mind y're manners, man."

"My manners, hey? An' 'oo may you be, to learn me manners, you bloomin' (h)ignorant Scotch (h)ass. You

give me (h)any of your (h)imperance an' I'll knock y're bloomin' block (h)off, I will." And Mr. Wigglesworth,

throwing himself into the approved pugilistic attitude, began dancing about the young Scot.

"Hoot, mon, awa' hame wi' ye. Tak' yon young tyke wi' ye an' gie him a bit wash, he's needin' it," said Mack,

At this point Captain Jack, slowly motoring by the lane mouth, turned his machine to the curb and leaped out.

"What's the row here?" he asked, making his way through the considerable crowd that had gathered. "What's

"They're knockin' my boy abaht, so they be," exclaimed Mr. Wigglesworth. "But," with growing and

righteous wrath, "they'll find (h)out that, wotsomever they do to a kid, w'en they come (h)up agin Joe

Wigglesworth they've struck somethin' 'ard'ard, d'ye 'ear? 'Ard!" And Mr. Wigglesworth made a pass at the

"Hold on, Wigglesworth," said Captain Jack quietly, catching his arm. "Were you beating up this kid?" he

"He was, and I pitched him into the fence. He hit his head and cut it, I guess. I didn't mean"

"I'll 'ave the law on the lot o' ye, I will. I'm a poor workin' man, but I've got my rights, an' if there's a justice in

this Gawd forsaken country I'll 'ave protection for my family." And Mr. Wigglesworth, working up a fury,

"Don't fear, Wigglesworth, you'll get all the justice you want. Perhaps Sam will tell usHello! Where is

But Sam had vanished. He had no mind for an investigation in the presence of Captain Jack.

"Well, well, he can't be much injured, I guess. Meantime, can I give you a lift, Annette?"

"No, thank you," said the girl, the colour in her cheeks matching the crimson ribbon at her throat. "I'm just

"Oh, she is, eh?" said Captain Jack, looking him over. "Ah, well, thenGoodbye, Annette, for the present."

"'Sir?' Rot! You aren't going to 'sir' me, Annette, after all the fun and the fights we had in the old days. Not

"I don't know," said Annette, flashing a swift glance into Captain Jack's admiring eyes. "It depends on"

"Well, let it go. But we will be pals again, Annette, I vow. Goodbye." Captain Jack lifted his hat and moved

"Did na know the Captain was a friend of yours, Annette," said Mack, falling into step beside her.

"NoyesI don't know. We went to Public School together before the war. I was a kid then." Her manner

was abstracted and her eyes were far away. Mack walked gloomily by her on one side, little Steve on the

"What do you say?" cried Annette, returning from her abstraction. "What do you mean, 'my sort'?" Her head

Annette stopped in her tracks, a burning red on her cheeks and a dangerous light in her black eyes.

"A'll tak it tae," said McNish, wheeling on his heel, "an' ye can hae your Captain for me."

"Goodbye, Steve," she said, stooping and kissing the boy. "This is your corner."

"Annette," he said, with a quick, shy look up into her face, "I like Captain Jack, don't you?"

"And I like you too," said the boy, with an adoring look in his deep eyes, "better'n anyone in the world."

"Do you, Steve? I'm glad." Again she stooped swiftly and kissed him. "Now run home."

She hurried home, passed into her room without a word to anyone. Slowly she removed her hat, then turning

to her glass she gazed at her flushed face for a few moments. A little smile curved her lips. "He did look at

me anyway," she whispered to the face that looked out at her, "he did, he did," she repeated. Then swiftly she

covered her eyes. When she looked again she saw a face white and drawn. "He would na look at ye." The

The Rectory was one of the very oldest of the more substantial of Blackwater's dwellings. Built of grey

limestone from the local quarries, its solid square mass relieved by its quaint dormer windows was softened

from its primal ugliness by the Boston ivy that had clambered to the eaves and lay draped about the windows

like a soft green mantle. Built in the early days, it stood with the little church, a gem of Gothic architecture,

within spacious grounds bought when land was cheap. Behind the house stood the stable, built also of grey

limestone, and at one side a cherry and apple orchard formed a charming background to the grey buildings

with their crowding shrubbery and gardens. A gravelled winding drive led from the street through towering

elms, a picturesque remnant from the original forest, to the front door and round the house to the stable yard

behind. From the driveway a gravelled footpath led through the shrubbery and flower garden by a wicket gate

to the Church. When first built the Rectory stood in dignified seclusion on the edge of the village, but the

prosperity of the growing town demanding space for its inhabitants had driven its streets far beyond the

Rectory demesne on every side, till now it stood, a green oasis of sheltered loveliness, amid a crowding mass

of modern brick dwellings, comfortable enough but arid of beauty and suggestive only of the utilitarian

For nearly a quarter of a century the Rev. Herbert Aveling Templeton, D.D., LL.D., for whom the Rectory

had been built, had ministered in holy things to the Parish of St. Alban's and had exercised a guiding and

paternal care over the social and religious wellbeing of the community. The younger son of one of England's

noble families, educated in an English Public School and University, he represented, in the life of this new,

thriving, bustling town, the traditions and manners of an English gentleman of the Old School. Still in his

early sixties, he carried his years with all the vigour of a man twenty years his junior. As he daily took his

morning walk for his mail, stepping with the brisk pace of one whose poise the years had not been able to

disturb, yet with the stately bearing consistent with the dignity attaching to his position and office, men's eyes

followed the tall, handsome, whitehaired, well set up gentleman always with admiration and, where

knowledge was intimate, with reverence and affection. Before the recent rapid growth of the town consequent

upon the establishment of various manufacturing industries attracted thither by the unique railroad facilities,

the Rector's walk was something in the nature of public perambulatory reception. For he knew them all, and

for all had a word of greeting, of enquiry, of cheer, of admonition, so that by the time he had returned to his

home he might have been said to have conducted a pastoral visitation of a considerable proportion of his

flock. Even yet, with the changes that had taken place, his walk to the Post Office was punctuated with

greetings and salutations from his fellowcitizens in whose hearts his twentyfive years of devotion to their

The lady of the Rectory, though some twenty years his junior, yet, by reason of delicate health due largely to

the double burden of household cares and parish duties, appeared to be quite of equal age. Gentle in spirit,

frail in body, there seemed to be in her soul something of the quality of tempered steel, yet withal a strain of

worldly wisdom mingled with a strange ignorance of the affairs of modern life. Her life revolved around one

centre, her adored husband, a centre enlarged as time went on to include her only son and her two daughters.

All others and all else in her world were of interest solely as they might be more or less closely related to

these, the members of her family. The town and the town folk she knew solely as her husband's parish. There

were other people and other communions, no doubt, but being beyond the pale they could hardly be supposed

to matter, or, at any rate, she could not be supposed to regard them with more than the interest and spasmodic

concern which she felt it her duty to bestow upon those unfortunate dwellers in partibus infidelium.

Regarding the Public School of the town with aversion because of its woefully democratic character, she was

weaned from her hostility to that institution when her son's name was entered upon its roll. Her eldest

daughter, indeed, she sent as a girl of fourteen to an exclusive English school, the expense of which was

borne by her husband's eldest brother, Sir Arthur Templeton, for she held the opinion that while for a boy the

Public School was an excellent institution with a girl it was quite different. Hence, while her eldest daughter

went "Home" for her education, her boy went to the Blackwater Public and High Schools, which institutions

became henceforth invested with the highest qualifications as centres of education. Her boy's friends were her

friends, and to them her house was open at all hours of day or night. Indeed, it became the governing idea in

her domestic policy that her house should be the rallying centre for everything that was related in any degree

to her children's life. Hence, she quietly but effectively limited the circle of the children's friends to those who

were able and were willing to make the Rectory their social centre. She saw to it that for Herbert's intimate

boy friends the big play room at the top of the house, once a bare and empty room and later the large and

comfortable family living room, became the place of meeting for all their social and athletic club activities.

With unsleeping vigilance she stood on guard against anything that might break that circle of her heart's

devotion. The circle might be, indeed must be enlarged, as for instance to take in the Maitland boys, Herbert's

closest chums. She was wise enough to see the wisdom of that, but nothing on earth would she allow to filch

To this law of her life she made one glorious, one splendid exception. When her country called, she, after

weeks of silent, fierce, lonely, agonised struggle gave up her boy and sent him with voiceless, tearless pride

But, when the boy's Colonel wrote in terms of affectionate pride of her boy's glorious passing, with new and

strange adaptability her heart circle was extended to include her boy's comrades in war and those who like

herself had sent them forth. Thenceforth every khaki covered lad was to her a son, and every soldier's mother

As her own immediate home circle grew smaller, the intensity of her devotion increased. Her two daughters

became her absorbing concern. With the modern notion that a girl might make for herself a career in life she

had no sympathy whatever. To see them happily married and in homes of their own became the absorbing

ambition of her life. To this end she administered her social activities, with this purpose in view she

encouraged or discouraged her daughters' friendships with men. With the worldly wisdom of which she had

her own share she came to the conclusion that ineligible men friends, that is, men friends unable to give her

daughters a proper setting in the social world, were to be effectively eliminated. That the men of her

daughters' choosing should be gentlemen in breeding went without saying, but that they should be sufficiently

That Jack Maitland had somehow dropped out of the intimate circle of friends who had in prewar days made

the Rectory their headquarters was to her a more bitter disappointment than she cared to acknowledge even to

herself. Her son and the two Maitland boys had been inseparable in their school and college days, and with

the two young men her daughters had been associated in the very closest terms of comradeship. But somehow

Captain Jack Maitland after the first months succeeding his return from the war had drawn apart.

Disappointed, perplexed, hurt, she vainly had striven to restore the old footing between the young man and

her daughters. Young Maitland had taken up his medical studies for a few months at his old University in

Toronto and so had been out of touch with the social life of his home town. Then after he had "chucked" his

course as impossible he had at his father's earnest wish taken up work at the mills, at first in the office, later

in the manufacturing department. There was something queer in Jack's attitude toward his old life and its

associations, and after her first failures in attempting to restore the old relationship her eldest daughter's pride

Adrien, her eldest daughter, had always been a difficult child, and her stay in England and later her

experience in war work in France where for three years she had given rare service in hospital work had

somehow made her even more inaccessible to her mother. And now the situation had been rendered more

distressing by her determination "to find something to do." She was firm in her resolve that she had no

intention of patiently waiting in her home, ostensibly busying herself with social duties but in reality "waiting

if not actually angling for a man." She bluntly informed her scandalised parent that "when she wanted a man

more than a career it would be far less humiliating to frankly go out and get him than to practise alluring

poses in the hopes that he might deign to bestow upon her his lordly regard." Her mother wisely forebore to

argue. Indeed, she had long since learned that in argumentive powers she was hopelessly outclassed by her

intellectual daughter. She could only express her shocked disappointment at such intentions and quietly plan

As to Patricia, her younger daughter, she dismissed all concern. She was only a child as yet, wise beyond her

years, but too thoroughly immature to cause any anxiety for some years to come. Meantime she had at first

tolerated and then gently encouraged the eager and obvious anxiety of Rupert Stillwell to make a footing for

himself in the Rectory family. At the outbreak of the war her antipathy to young Stillwell as a slacker had

been violent. He had not joined up with the first band of ardent young souls who had so eagerly pointed the

path to duty and to glory. But, when it had been made clear to the public mind that young Stillwell had been

pronounced physically unfit for service and was therefore prevented from taking his place in that Canadian

line which though it might wear thin at times had never broken, Mrs. Templeton relieved him in her mind of

the damning count of being a slacker. Later, becoming impressed with the enthusiasm of the young man's

devotion to various forms of patriotic war service at home, she finally, though it must be confessed with

something of an effort, had granted him a place within the circle of her home. Furthermore, Rupert Stillwell

had done extremely well in all his business enterprises and had come to be recognised as one of the coming

young men of the district, indeed of the Province, with sure prospects of advancement in public estimation.

Hence, the frequency with which Stillwell's big Hudson Six could be seen parked on the gravelled drive

before the Rectory front door. In addition to this, Rupert and his Hudson Six were found to be most useful.

He had abundance of free time and he was charmingly ready with his offers of service. Any hour of the day

the car, driven by himself or his chauffeur, was at the disposal of any member of the Rectory family, a

courtesy of which Mrs. Templeton was not unwilling to avail herself though never with any loss of dignity

but always with appearance of bestowing rather than of receiving a favour. As to the young ladies, Adrien

rarely allowed herself the delight of a motor ride in Rupert Stillwell's luxurious car. On the other hand, had

her mother not intervened, Patricia would have indulged without scruple her passion for joyriding. The car

she adored, Rupert Stillwell she regarded simply as a means to the indulgence of her adoration. He was a

jolly companion, a cleverly humourous talker, and an unfailing purveyor of bonbons. Hence he was to

Patricia an ever welcome guest at the Rectory, and the warmth of Patricia's welcome went a long way to

It was not to be supposed, however, that that young lady's gracious and indeed eager acceptance of the

manifold courtesies of the young gentleman in question burdened her in the very slightest with any sense of

obligation to anything but the most cavalier treatment of him, should occasion demand. She was

unhesitatingly frank and ready with criticism and challenge of his opinions, indeed he appeared to possess a

fatal facility for championing her special aversions and antagonising her enthusiasms. Of the latter her most

avowed example was Captain Jack, as she loved to call him. A word of criticism of Captain Jack, her hero,

her knight, sans peur et sans reproche and her loyal soul was aflame with passionate resentment.

It so fell on an occasion when young Stillwell was a dinner guest at the Rectory.

"Do you know, Patricia," and Rupert Stillwell looked across the dinner table teasingly into Patricia's face,

"I heard all about it, Rupert, and Captain Jack did just what I would have expected him to do." Patricia's

"Rescued a charming young damsel, eh? By the way, that Perrotte girl has turned out uncommonly good

"Rescuing a poor little illtreated boy from the hands of a brutal bully and the bully's brutal father"

"Patricia!" The voice was just as quiet but with a slightly increased distinctness in enunciation, and glancing

swiftly at her father's face Patricia recognised that the limits of her speech had been reached, unless she

"Yes, Annette has grown very pretty, indeed," said Adrien, taking up the conversation, "and is really a very

nice girl, indeed. She sings beautifully. She is the leading soprano in her church choir, I believe."

"Captain Jack Maitland appeared to think her quite charming," said Rupert, making eyes at Patricia. Patricia's

"They were in school together, I think, were they not, Mamma?" said Adrien, flushing slightly.

"Of course they were, and so was Rupert, too" said Patricia with impatient scorn, "and so would you if you

"No doubt of it," said Rupert with a smile, "but you see she was fortunate enough to be sent to England."

"Blackwater is good enough for me," said Patricia, a certain stubborn hostility in her tone.

"I have always thought the Blackwater High School an excellent institution," said her mother quickly,

"Yes, indeed, for boys," replied Stillwell, "but for young ladies well, there is something in an English

"Pardon me, Mother, but you know we have a perfectly splendid High School here. Father has often said so."

Her mother sighed. "Yes, for boys. But for girls, I feel with Rupert that you get something in English schools

"Yes, and perhaps lose something, Mamma," said Adrien quietly. "I mean," she added hastily, "you lose

touch with a lot of things and people, friends. Now, for instance, you remember when we were all children,

boys and girls together, at the Public School, Annette was one of the cleverest and best of the lot of us, I used

"But you can't help growing up," said Rupert, "andwell, democracy is all right and that sort of thing, but

you must drift into your class you know. There's Annette, for instance. She is a factory hand, a fine girl of

"Oh, I suppose we must recognise facts. Rupert, you are quite right," said Mrs. Templeton, "there must be

social distinctions and there are classes. I mean," she added, as if to forestall the outburst she saw gathering

behind her younger daughter's closed lips, "we must inevitably draw to our own set by our natural or acquired

"All very well in England, Mamma. I suppose dear Uncle Arthur and our dear cousins would hardly feel

"My dear Patricia," said her father, mildly patient, "you are quite wrong. Our people at home, your uncle

Arthur, I mean, and your cousins, and all wellbred folk, do not allow class distinctions to limit friendship.

Friends are chosen on purely personal grounds of real worth andwell, congeniality."

"Would Uncle Arthur, or rather, Aunt Alicia have Annette to dinner, for instance?" demanded Patricia.

"Would she be asked here now to dinner?" said Rupert. "I mean," he added in some confusion, "would it be,

"She has been here. Don't you remember, Mamma? She was often here. And every time she came she was the

cleverest thing, she was the brightest, the most attractive girl in the bunch." Her mother's eyebrows went up.

"In the party, I mean. And the most popular. Why, I remember quite well that Rupert was quite devoted to

"She is just as bright, just as attractive, as clever now, more so indeed, as fine a girl in every way. But of

course she was not a factory girl then. That's what you mean," replied Patricia scornfully.

"Yes, she is working in the new box factory. Her mother, lazy, selfish thing, took her from the High School."

"It's true, Mamma," continued the girl, her eyes agleam, "and now she works in the box factory while Captain

Her father smiled at her. "Well done, little girl. Annette is a fine girl and is fortunate in her champion. You

"My dear, we will not discuss the matter any further," said her mother. "It is a very old question and very

"We don't see Captain Jack very much since his return," said her father, turning the conversation. "You might

"No," said the girl, a shade falling on her face. "He is always busy. He has such long hours. He works his

day's work with the men and then he always goes up to the office to his fatherand andOh, I don't

"Naturally he is tied up, learning the business, I mean," said the elder sister quietly. "He has little time for

"It's not that, Adrien," said Patricia. "He is different since he came back. I wish" She paused abruptly.

"The war has left its mark upon them, and what else can we expect?" said Dr. Templeton. "One wonders how

"Oh, Jack has settled down all right," said Patricia, as if analysing a subject interesting to herself alone.

"Jack's not like a lot of them. He's too much settled down. What is it, I wonder? He seems to have quit

"Doesn't care? What for? That sounds either as if he were an egotist or a slacker." Her sister's words rasped

Patricia's most sensitive heart string. She visibly squirmed, eagerly waiting a chance to reply. "Jack is

neither," continued Adrien slowly. "I understand the thing perfectly. He has been up against big things, so big

that everything else seems trivial. Fancy a tennis tournament for a man that has stared into hell's mouth."

"My dear, you are right," said her father. "Patricia is really talking too much. Young people should"

"I know, Daddy'be seen,'" said the younger daughter, and grinning affectionately at him she blew him a

kiss. "But, all the same, I wish Captain Jack were not so awfully busy or were a little more keen about things.

"He may get that sooner than he thinks," said Stillwell, "or wishes. I hear there's likely to be trouble in the

"No. Labour. The whole labour world is in a ferment. The Maitlands can hardly expect to escape. As a matter

"These labour troubles are really very distressing. There is no end to them," said Mrs. Templeton, with the

resignation one shows in discussing the inscrutable ways of Providence. "It does seem as if the working

classes today have got quite beyond all bounds. One wonders what they will demand next. What is the

"Oh, the eternal old trouble is there, with some new ones added that make even wages seem small."

"Division of profits in addition to wages?" enquired Mrs. Templeton, aghast. "But, how dreadful. One would

"Surely that is an extreme statement," said Dr. Templeton, in a shocked voice, "or you are talking of the very

"The Rads lead, of course, but you would be surprised at the demands made today. Why, I heard a young

chap last week, a soap box artist, denouncing all capitalists as parasites. 'Why should we work for anyone

but ourselves?' he was saying. 'Why don't we take charge of the factories and run them for the general good?'

"But, my dear papa, that sort of thing is the commonplace of Hyde Park, you know," said Adrien, "and"

"Ah, Hyde Park, yes. I should expect that sort of thing from the Hyde Park orators. You get every sort of mad

"And I was going to say that that sort of thing has got away beyond Hyde Park. Why, papa dear, you have

been so engrossed in your Higher Mathematics that you have failed to keep up with the times." His eldest

daughter smiled at him and, reaching across the corner of the table, patted his hand affectionately. "We are

away beyond being shocked at profit sharing, and even sharing in control of administration and that sort of

"But there remains justice, I hope," said her father, "and the right of ownership."

"Oh, come, Adrien," said Rupert, "you are not saying that Mr. Maitland doesn't own his factory and mill."

"It depends on what you mean by own," said the girl coolly. "You must not take too much for granted."

"My dear Adrien," said her mother, "you have such strange notions. I suppose you got them in those Clubs in

"Very dear people," said Adrien, with a far away look in her eyes, "and people that loved justice and right."

"All right, Ade," said her younger sister, with a saucy grin, "I agree entirely with your sentiments. I just adore

that pale blue tie of yours. I suppose, now that what's yours is mine, I can preempt that when I like."

"Well done, Patricia. You see the theories are all right till we come to have them applied all round," said

"We were talking of joint ownership, Pat," said her sister, "the joint ownership of things to the making of

"Exactly," said Rupert. "I guess Grant Maitland paid his own good money for his plant."

"Well, well, children, we shall not discuss the subject any further. Shall we all go up for coffee?"

"These are very radical views you are advancing, Adrien," said her father, rising from his chair. "You must be

careful not to say things like that in circles where you might be taken seriously."

"Seriously, Daddy? I was never more serious in my life." She put her arm through her father's. "I must give

you some books, some reports to read, I see," she said, laughing up into his face.

"I wonder what Captain Jack would think of these views," said Rupert, dropping into step with Patricia as

"Ah, I wouldn't be too sure about that," said Rupert. "You see, it makes a difference whose ox is being

"Never mind, Pat," said her sister over her shoulder. "I don't think he knows Captain Jack as we do."

"Never mind, dear. Don't let him pull your leg like that," said her sister, with a little colour in her cheek. "We

There was trouble at the Maitland Mills. For the first time in his history Grant Maitland found his men look

askance at him. For the first time in his life he found himself viewing with suspicion the workers whom he

had always taken a pride in designating "my men." The situation was at once galling to his pride and

shocking to his sense of fair play. His men were his comrades in work. He knew themat least, until these

war days he had known thempersonally, as friends. They trusted him and were loyal to him, and he had

taken the greatest care to deal justly and more than justly by them. No labour troubles had ever disturbed the

relations which existed between him and his men. It was thus no small shock when Wickes announced one

day that a Grievance Committee wished to interview him. That he should have to meet a Grievance

Committee, whose boast it had been that the first man in the works to know of a grievance was himself, and

that the men with whom he had toiled and shared both good fortune and ill, but more especially the good, that

had befallen through the last quarter century should have a grievance against himthis was indeed an

experience that cut him to the heart and roused in him a fury of perplexed indignation.

"A what? A Grievance Committee!" he exclaimed to Wickes, when the old bookkeeper came announcing

"That's what they call themselves, sir," said Wickes, his tone of disgust disclaiming all association with any

"A Grievance Committee?" said Mr. Maitland again. "Well, I'll be! What do they want? Who are they? Bring

them in," he roared in a voice whose ascending tone indicated his growing amazement and wrath.

"Come in you," growled Wickes in the voice he generally used for his collie dog, which bore a thoroughly

There was some shuffling for place in the group at the door, but finally Mr. Wigglesworth found himself

pushed to the front of a committee of five. With a swift glance which touched "the boss" in its passage and

then rested upon the wall, the ceiling, the landscape visible through the window, anywhere indeed rather than

upon the face of the man against whom they had a grievance, they filed in and stood ill at ease.

Mr. Wigglesworth cleared his throat. He was new at the business and was obviously torn between conflicting

emotions of pride in his present important position and a wholesome fear of his "boss." However, having

cleared his throat, Mr. Wigglesworth pulled himself together and with a wave of the hand began.

"These 'ereergentlemen an' myself 'ave been (h)appinted a Committee to lay before you certain

grievances w'ich we feel to be very (h)oppressive, sir, so to speak, w'ich, an' meanin' no offence, sir, as men,

"What do you want, Wigglesworth? What's your trouble? You have some trouble, what is it? Spit it out,

"Well, sir, as I was asayin', this 'ere's a Committee (h)appinted to wait on you, sir, to lay before you certain

"Come, come, Wigglesworth, cut out the speech, and get at the things. What do you want? Do you know? If

"We want our rights as men," said Mr. Wigglesworth in a loud voice, "our rights as free men, and we demand

"Is there anyone of this Committee that can tell me what you want of me?" said Maitland. "You, Gilby, you

"I guess so," said Gilby, a long, lean man, Canadian born, of about thirty, "but it ain't the wages that's eatin'

"That's right, sir." "Too blanked smart!" "Buttin' in like a blank billy goat!" The growls came in various

"No! Old Hoddle's all right," said Gilby. "It's that young smart aleck, Tony Perrotte."

"Tony Perrotte!" Mr. Maitland's voice was troubled and uncertain. "Tony Perrotte! Why, you don't mean to

"Knows too much," said Gilby. "Wants to run everything and everybody. You can't tell him anything. And

"I do that, and I know too the difference between a Corporal and a Company Commander. I know an officer

"I won't stand for insubordination in my mills, Gilby. You must take orders from my foreman. You know me,

"You treat a man fair, Mr. Maitland, and I never kicked at your orders. Ain't that so?"

"Oh, he's so stuck on himself that he gives me the wearisome willies. Look here, other folks has been to the

"Look here, Gilby, just quit swearing in this room." The cold blue eyes bored into Gilby's hot face.

"I beg pardon, sir. It's a bad habit I've got, but thatthat Tony Perrotte has got my goat and I'm through with

"All right, Gilby. If you don't like your job you know what you can do," said Maitland coldly.

"I mean there's only one boss in these works, and that's me. And my foreman takes my orders and passes

"Excuse me, sir. 'A should like to enquirre if it is yourr orrderrs that yourr forrman should use

The cool, firm, rasping voice cut through Mr. Wigglesworth's sputtering noise like a circular saw through a

"Ma name is Malcolm McNish. 'A doot ye have na harrd it. But the name maitters little. It's the question

Here was no amateur in the business of Grievance Committees. His manner was that of a selfrespecting man

dealing with a fellowman on terms of perfect equality. There was a complete absence of Wigglesworth's

noisy bluster, as also of Gilby's violent profanity. He obviously knew his ground and was ready to hold it. He

had a case and was prepared to discuss it. There was no occasion for heat or bluster or profanity. He was

"Then personally you have no grievance against him?" Mr. Maitland had the air of a man who has scored a

"No, not solely, but pairtly. A know by experience and A hae harrd the man, and he's no fit for his job,

"I suppose you know the qualifications of a foreman, McNish?" enquired Mr. Maitland with the suspicion of

"Only this, that you and those you represent place your judgment as superior to mine in the choice of a

"I have been a foreman myself. But there are two points of view in this questionthe point of view of the

management and that of the worker. We have the one point of view, you have the other. And each has its

"Very interesting indeed," said Mr. Maitland, "but it happens that profits and human life are somewhat

"Aye, but wi' you profits are the primary consideration and humanity the secondary. Wi' us humanity is the

"Very interesting, indeed. But I must decline your premise. You are a new man here and so I will excuse you

"You put wurrds in my mouth, Mr. Maitland. A said nae sic thing," said McNish. "But your foreman disna'

"'Must,' eh?" The word had never been used to Mr. Maitland since his own father fifty years before had used

it. It was an unfortunate word for the success of the interview. "'Must,' eh?" repeated Mr. Maitland with rising

wrath. "I'd have you know, McNish, that the man doesn't live that says 'must' to me in regard to the men I

"Most emphatically, I do," said Mr. Maitland with glints of fire in his blue eyes.

"A have examined certain feegures which I shall be glad to submit tae ye, in regard tae the cost o' leevin'

since last ye fixed the wage. If yere wage was right then, it's wrang the noo." Under the strain Mr. Maitland's

boring eyes and increasing impatience the Doric flavour of McNish's speech grew richer and more guttural,

"And what may these figures be?" enquired Mr. Maitland with a voice of contempt.

"These are the figures prepared by the Labour Department of your Federal Government. I suppose they may

be relied upon. They show the increased cost of living during the last five years. You know yeresel' the

increase in wages. Mr. Maitland, I am told ye are a just man, an' we ask ye tae dae the rrright. That's all,

"Thank you for your good opinion, my man. Whether I am a just man or not is for my own conscience alone.

As to the wage question, Mr. Wickes will tell you, the matter had already been taken up. The result will be

"Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir," said Mr. Wigglesworth. "We felt sure it would only be necessary to point

(h)out the right course to you. I may say I took the same (h)identical (h)attitude with my fellow workmen. I

"That will do, Wigglesworth," said Mr. Maitland, cutting him short. "Have you anything more to say?" he

"Nothing, sir, except to express the hope that you will reconsider yere attitude as regards the foreman."

"You may take my word for it, I will not," said Mr. Maitland, snapping his words off with his teeth.

"At least, as a fairminded man, you will look into the matter," said McNish temperately.

"Do you threaten me, sir?" Mr. Maitland leaned over his desk toward the calm and rugged Scot, his eyes

"Threaten ye? Na, na, threats are for bairns. Yere no a bairn, but a man an' a wise man an' a just, A doot. A'm

He turned away from the indignant Mr. Maitland, put his hat on his head and walked from the room, followed

by the other members of the Committee, with the exception of Mr. Wigglesworth who lingered with

"This, sir, is a most (h)auspicious (h)era, sir. The (h)age of reason and justice 'as dawned, an'"

"Oh, get out, Wigglesworth. Haven't you made all your speeches yet? The time for the speeches is past. Good

Mr. Maitland's manner was frankly, almost brutally, imperious. It was not his usual manner with his

subordinates, from which it may be gathered that Mr. Maitland was seriously disturbed. And with good

reason. In the first place, never in his career had one of his men addressed him in the cool terms of equality

which McNish had used with him in the recent interview. Then, never had he been approached by a

As to the wages question, he would settle that without difficulty. He had never skimped the pay envelope. It

annoyed him, however, that he had been forstalled in the matter by this Committee. But very especially he

was annoyed by the recollection of the deliberative, rasping tones of that coolheaded Scot, who had so

calmly set before him his duty. But the sting of the interview lay in the consciousness that the criticism of his

foreman was probably just. And then, he was tied to Tony Perrotte by bonds that reached his heart. Had it not

been so, he would have made short work of the business. As it was, Tony would have to stay at all costs. Mr.

Maitland sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed upon the Big Bluff visible through the window, but his mind

lingering over a picture that had often gripped hard at his heart during the last two years, a picture drawn for

him in a letter from his remaining son, Jack. The letter lay in the desk at his hand. He saw in the black night

that shelltorn strip of land between the lines, black as a ploughed field, lurid for a swift moment under the

red glare of a bursting shell or ghastly in the sickly illumination of a Verry light, and over this black pitted

earth a man painfully staggering with a wounded man on his back. The words leaped to his eyes. "He brought

me out of that hell, Dad." He closed his eyes to shut out that picture, his hands clenched on the arms of his

"No," he said, raising his hand in solemn affirmation, "as the Lord God liveth, while I stay he stays."

"Come in," he said, in answer to a timid tap at the office door. Mr. Wickes laid a file before him. It needed

only a rapid survey of the sheets to give him the whole story. Incompetence and worse, sheer carelessness

looked up at him from every sheet. The planing mill was in a state of chaotic disorganization.

"What does this mean, Mr. Wickes?" he burst forth, putting his finger upon an item that cried out

mismanagement and blundering. "Here is an order that takes a month to clear which should be done within

"It seems difficult somehow to get orders through, sir, these days," he said after a pause.

"Difficult? What is the difficulty? The men are there, the machines are there, the material is in the yard. Why

the delay? And look at this. Here is a lot of material gone to the scrap heap, the finest spruce ever grown in

Canada too. What does this mean, Wickes?" he seemed to welcome the opportunity of finding a scapegoat for

Sheet after sheet passed in swift review under his eye. Suddenly he flung himself back in his chair.

"Yes, sir," said Wickes, his face pale and his fingers trembling. "I don'tI don't seem to be able totoget

"I have tried, I mean I'm afraid I'mthat I am not quite up to it, as I used to be. I get confusedand" The

old bookkeeper's lips were white and quivering. He could not get on with his story.

Gathering up the sheets with fingers that trembled helplessly, Wickes crept hurriedly out through the door,

leaving a man behind him furiously, helplessly struggling in the relentless grip of his conscience, lashed with

a sense of his own injustice. His anger which had found vent upon his old bookkeeper he knew was due

another man, a man with whom at any cost he could never allow himself to be angry. The next two hours

As the quitting whistle blew a tap came again to the office door. It was Wickes, with a paper in his hand.

Without a word he laid the paper upon his chief's desk and turned away. Maitland glanced over it rapidly.

"Wickes, what does this nonsense mean?" His chief's voice arrested him. He turned again to the desk.

"I don't thinkI have come to feel, sir, that I am not able for my job. I do not see as how I can go on."

Maitland's brows frowned upon the sheet. Slowly he picked up the paper, tore it across and tossed it into the

"Wickes, you are an old fooland," he added in a voice that grew husky, "I am another and worse."

"Oh, cut it all out, Wickes," said Maitland impatiently. "You know I won't stand for that. But what can we

"Yes, sir, and he was with my Stephen at the last, and" The old man's voice suddenly broke.

"I remember, Wickes, I remember. And that's another reason We must find another way out."

"I have been thinking, sir," said the bookkeeper timidly, "if you had a younger man in my place"

"You would go out, eh? I believe on my soul you would. Youyou old fool. But," said Maitland,

The two men stood facing each other for a few minutes, with hands clasped, Maitland's face stern and set,

Wickes' working in a pitiful effort to stay the tears that ran down his cheeks, to choke back the sobs that

"We must find a way," said Maitland, when he felt sure of his voice. "Some way, but not that way. Sit down.

Grant Maitland�s business instincts and training were such as to forbid any trifling with loose management in

any department of his plant. He was, moreover, too just a man to allow any of his workmen to suffer for

failures not their own. His first step was to get at the facts. His preliminary move was characteristic of him.

"McNish," he said, "your figures I have examined. They tell me nothing I did not know, but they are cleverly

set down. The matter of wages I shall deal with as I have always dealt with it in my business. The other

matter" Mr. Maitland paused, then proceeded with grave deliberation, "I must deal with in my own way. It

will take a little time. I shall not delay unnecessarily, but I shall accept dictation from no man as to my

"You are a new man here, and I find you are a good workman," continued Mr. Maitland. "I don�t know you

nor your aims and purposes in this Grievance Committee business of yours. If you want a steady job with a

chance to get on, you will get both; if you want trouble, you can get that too, but not for long, here."

"Well, then, I hope you will govern yourself accordingly. Good day," said Maitland, closing the interview.

"But it�s no all A have to say, if ye will pairmit me," answered McNish in a voice quiet and respectful and

apparently, except for its Doric flavour, quite untouched by emotion of any kind soever.

"Maister Maitland," said McNish, rolling out a deeper Doric, "ye have made a promise and a threat. Yere

threat is naething tae me. As tae yere job, A want it and A want tae get on, but A�m a free man the noo an� a

free man A shall ever be. Goodday tae ye." He bowed respectfully to his employer and strode from the

"He is a man, that chap, at any rate," he said to himself, "but what�s his game, I wonder. He will bear

The very next day Maitland made a close inspection of his plant, beginning with the sawmill. He found

McNish running one of the larger circular saws, and none too deftly. He stood observing the man for some

"You will save time, I think, if you do it this way." He seized the levers and, eliminating an unnecessary

"A�m no saw man," said McNish, a little sullenly. "A dinna kenI don't know saws of this sort. I'm a joiner.

Together they went into the planing mill. Asking for the foreman he found that he was nowhere to be seen,

McNish led him to a corner of the mill where some fine counter work was in process.

Maitland, turning the work over in his hands, ran his finger along a joint somewhat clumsily fitted.

Again Maitland examined the rail. His experienced eye detected easily the difference in the workmanship.

"Is there anything else of yours about here?" he asked. McNish went to a pile of finished work and from it

"What? The Merchants' Bank job? Surely that can't be. That job was due two weeks ago." Maitland turned

impatiently toward an older man. "Ellis," he said sharply, "do you know what job this is?"

"It's the turned work, I think, sir. I am not sure, but I think I heard Mr. Perrotte asking about that two or three

"Ay, sir," said McNish, his tone indicating quiet satisfaction. At Gibbon's bench he paused. "Ye'll no pit

In every part of the shop Mr. Maitland found similar examples of mismanagement and lack of coordination

in the various departments of the work. It needed no more than a cursory inspection to convince him that a

change of foreman was a simple necessity. Everywhere he found not only evidence of waste of time but also

of waste of material. It cut him to the heart to see beautiful wood mangled and ruined. All his life he had

worked with woods of different kinds. He knew them standing in all their matchless grandeur, in the primeval

forest and had followed them step by step all the way to the finished product. Never without a heart pang did

he witness a noble white pine, God's handiwork of centuries, come crashing to earth through the meaner

growth beneath the chopper's axe. The only thing that redeemed such a deed from sacrilege, in his mind, was

to see the tree fittingly transformed into articles of beauty and worth suitable for man's use. Hence, when he

saw lying here and there deformed and disfigured fragments of the exquisitely grained white spruce, which

during the war, he had with such care selected for his aeroplane parts, his very heart rose in indignant wrath.

And filled with this wrath he made his way to the office and straightway summoned Wickes and his son Jack

"Tony will never make a worker in wood. He cares nothing for it," he said bitterly.

"I am sorry, Father, but you know I always thought it was a mistake to put Tony in charge of anything. Why,

he might have had his commission if he were not such an irresponsible, downwright lazy beggar. What he

needs, as my Colonel used to profanely say, is 'a good oldfashioned SergeantMajor to knock hell out of

him'. And, believe me, Tony was a rattling fine soldier if his officer would regularly, systematically and

"What can we do with him? I simply can't and won't dismiss him, as that infernally efficient and coolheaded

"Oh, the town has the story with embellishments. Rupert Stillwell took care to give me a picturesque account.

But I would not hesitate, Dad. Kick Tony a good swift kick once a week or so, or, if that is beneath your

"But, Jack, lad, we can't do that," said his father, greatly distressed, "after what"

"Why not? He carried me out of that hell all right, and while I live I shall remember that. But he is a selfish

beggar. He hasn't the instinct for team play. He hasn't the idea of responsibility for the team. He gets so that

he can not make himself do what he just doesn't feel like doing. He doesn't care a tinker's curse for the other

"The man that doesn't care for other fellows will never make a foreman," said Mr. Maitland decisively. "But

"There's only one way to handle Tony," said Jack. "I learned that long ago in school. He was a prince of

halfbacks, you know, but I had regularly to kick him about before every big match. Oh, Tony is a fine sort

"That does not help much, Jack." For the first time in his life Grant Maitland was at a loss as to how he

should handle one of his men. Were it not for the letter in the desk at his hand he would have made short

work of Tony Perrotte. But there the letter lay and in his heart the inerasible picture it set forth.

"What is the special form that Tony's devilment has taken, may I ask?" enquired Jack.

"Well, I may say to you, what Wickes knows and has known and has tried for three months to hide from me

and from himself, Tony has made about as complete a mess of the organization under his care in the planing

mill as can be imagined. The mill is strewn with the wreckage of unfulfilled orders. He has no sense of time

value. Tomorrow is as good as today, next week as this week. A foreman without a sense of time value is

no good. And he does not value material. Waste to him is nothing. Another fatal defect. The man to whom

minutes are not potential gold and material potential product can never hope to be a manufacturer. If only I

"In the words of a famous statesman much abused indeed, I suggest, 'Wait and see.' Meantime, find some

This proved to be in the present situation a policy of wisdom. It was Tony himself who furnished the

solution. From the men supposed to be working under his orders he learned the day following Maitland's visit

of inspection something of the details of that visit. He quickly made up his mind that the day of reckoning

could not long be postponed. None knew better than Tony himself that he was no foreman; none so well that

he loathed the job which had been thrust upon him by the father of the man whom he had carried out from the

very mouth of hell. It was something to his credit that he loathed himself for accepting the position. Yet, with

irresponsible procrastination, he put off the day of reckoning. But, some ten days later, and after a night with

some kindred spirits of his own Battalion, a night prolonged into the early hours of the working day, Tony

presented himself at the office, gay, reckless, desperate, but quite compos mentis and quite master of his

"Mr. Wickes," he said in solemn gravity, "please have your stenographer take this letter."

Mr. Wickes, aghast, strove to hush his vibrant tones, indicating in excited pantomime the presence of the

chief in the inner office. He might as effectively have striven to stay the East wind at that time sweeping up

"Are you ready, my dear?" said Tony, smiling pleasantly at the girl. "All right, proceed. 'Dear Mr. Maitland:'

At that point the door opened and Grant Maitland stepped into the office. Tony rose to his feet and, bowing

"Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you, in fact, I wanted to see you but wishing to save your time I was in

"Yes, sir, I was on the point of dictating my resignation of my position of foreman."

"I don't wish to take your time, sir," said Tony, sobered and quieted by Mr. Maitland's manner, "but my mind

"Come in," said Mr. Maitland, in a voice of quiet command, throwing open his office door. "I wish to speak

"Oh, certainly, sir," answered Tony, pulling himself together with an all too obvious effort.

"Where are you going, Tony?" enquired Wickes, startled at the look on Tony's face.

"To hell," he snapped, "where such fools as me belong," and, jamming his hat hard down on his head, he

"Wickes," he said sharply, "put on your hat and get Jack for me. Bring him, no matter what he's at. That

young fool who has just gone out must be looked after. The bootleggers have been taking him in tow. If I

had only known sooner. Did you know, Wickes, how he has been going on? Why didn't you report to me?"

"I hesitated to do that, sir," putting his desk in order. "I always expected as how he would pull up. It's his

"Well, he would not take anything I had to offer. He is wild to get away. And unfortunately he has some

Sorely perplexed Mr. Maitland returned to his office. His business sense pointed the line of action with

sunlight clearness. His sense of justice to the business for which he was responsible as well as to the men in

his employ no less clearly indicated the action demanded. His sane judgment concurred in the demand of his

men for the dismissal of his foreman. Dismissal had been rendered unnecessary by Tony's unshakable resolve

to resign his position which he declared he loathed and which he should never have accepted. His perplexity

arose from the confusion within himself. What should he do with Tony? He had no position in his works or in

"It's a joke, Mr. Maitland," he had declared, "a ghastly joke. Everybody knows it's a joke, that I should be in

command of any man when I can't command myself. Besides, I can't stick it." In this resolve he had persisted

in spite of Mr. Maitland's entreaties that he should give the thing another try, promising him all possible

guidance and backing. But entreaties and offers of assistance had been in vain. Tony was wild to get away

from the mill. He hated the grind. He wanted his freedom. Vainly Mr. Maitland had offered to find another

"We'll find a place in the office for you," he had pleaded. "I want to see you get on, Tony. I want to see you

"It isn't in me," he had declared. "Not if you gave me the whole works could I stick it."

"I know myselfonly too well. Ask Jack, he knows," was Tony's bitter answer. "And that's final."

"No, Tony, it is not final," had been Mr. Maitland's last word, as Tony had left him.

But after the young man had left him there still remained the unsolved question, What was he to do with

Tony? In Mr. Maitland's heart was the firm resolve that he would not allow Tony to go his own way. The

At his wits' end he had sent for Jack. Jack had made a football halfback and a hockey forward out of Tony

when everyone else had failed. If anyone could divert him from that desperate downward course to which he

In a few minutes Wickes returned with the report that on receiving an account of what had happened Jack had

"Tony is all right for today," he said, turning to his work and leaving the problem for the meantime to Jack.

In an hour Jack reported that he had been to the Perrotte home and had interviewed Tony's mother. From her

he had learned that Tony had left the town, barely catching the train to Toronto. He might not return for a

week or ten days. He could set no time for it. He was his own master as to time. He had got to the stage

where he could go and come pretty much as he pleased. The mother was not at all concerned as to these

goings and comings of her son. He had an assured position, all cause for anxiety in regard to him was at an

end. Tony's mother was obviously not a little uplifted that her son should be of sufficient importance to be

"Let him take his swing, Dad, for a bit," was Jack's advice. "He will come back when he is ready, and until

then wild horses won't bring him nor hold him. He is no good for his old job, and you have no other ready

that he will stick at. He has no Sergeant Major now to knock him about and make him keep step, more's the

"Life will be his SergeantMajor, I fear," said his father, "and a SergeantMajor that will exact the utmost

limit of obedience or make him pay the price. All the same, we won't let him go. I can't Jack, anyway."

With this assurance his father had to content himself. In a fortnight's time a letter came from Tony to his

sister, rosy with the brilliance of the prospects opening up before him. There was the usual irresponsible

indefiniteness in detail. What he was doing and how he was living Tony did not deign to indicate. Ten days

later Annette had another letter. The former prospects had not been realised, but he had a much better thing in

view, something more suitable to him, and offering larger possibilities of position and standing in the

community. So much Annette confided to her mother who passed on the great news with elaborations and

annotations to Captain Jack. To Captain Jack himself Annette gave little actual information. Indeed, shorn of

its element of prophecy, there was little in Tony's letter that could be passed on. Nor did Annette drop any

hint but that all was quite well with her brother, much less that he had suggested a temporary loan of fifty

dollars but only of course if she could spare the amount with perfect convenience. After this letter there was

silence as far as Tony was concerned and for Annette anxiety that deepened into agony as the silence

With the anxiety there mingled in Annette's heart anger at the Maitlands, for she blamed them for Tony's

dismissal from his position. This, it is fair to say, was a reflection from her mother's wrath, whose mind had

been filled up with rumours from the mills to the effect that her son had been "fired." Annette was wise

enough and knew her brother well enough to discredit much that rumour brought to her ears, but she could

not rid herself of the thought that a way might have been found to hold Tony about the mills.

"He fired the boy, did the ould carmudgeon," said Madame Perrotte in one of her rages, "and druv him off

"Nonsense, Mother," Annette had replied, "you know well enough Tony left of his own accord. Why should

"Thrue for you, Annette, gurl," she said, "an' ye said it that time. But why for did he not induce the bye to

remain? It would be little enough if he had made him the Manager of the hull works. That same would never

"Hush, Mother," said Annette, in a shocked and angry voice, "let no one hear you speak like that. Pay back!

You know, Mother, nothing could ever pay back a thing like that." The anger in her daughter's voice startled

"Oui! by gar!" said Perrotte, who had overheard, with quick wrath. "Dat's foolish talk for sure! Dere's no man

"Right you are, mon pere!" said Annette appeasing her father. "Mother did not think what she was saying."

"Dat's no bon," replied Perrotte, refusing to be appeased. "Sacre tonnerre! Dat's onewhat you

call?damfool speech. Dat boy Tony he's carry (h)on hees back his friend, le Capitaine Jack, an' le

Capitaine, he's go five mile for fin' Tony on' de shell hole an' fetch heem to le docteur and stay wit' him till

he's fix (h)up. Nom de Dieu! You pay for dat! Mama! You mak' shame for me on my heart!" cried the old

Fifty years ago Blackwater town was a sawmill village on the Blackwater River which furnished the power

Down the river came the sawlogs in the early spring when the water was high, to be caught and held by a

"boom" in a pond from which they were hauled up a tramway to the saw. A quarter of a mile up stream a mill

race, tapping the river, led the water to an "overshot wheel" in the early days, later to a turbine, thus creating

the power necessary to drive the mill machinery. When the saw was still the water overflowed the

But that mill race furnished more than power to the mill. It furnished besides much colourful romance to the

life of the village youth of those early days. For down the mill race they ran their racing craft, jostling and

screaming, urging with long poles their laggard flotillas to victory. The pond by the mill was to the boys

"swimming hole" and fishing pool, where, during the long summer evenings and through the sunny summer

days, they spent amphibious hours in high and serene content. But in springtime when the pond was black

with floating logs it became the scene of thrilling deeds of daring. For thither came the lumberjacks, fresh

from "the shanties," in their dashing, multicolored garb, to "show off" before admiring friends and

sweethearts their skill in "log running" and "logrolling" contests which as the spirit of venture grew would

Here, too, on brilliant winter days the life of the village found its centre of vivid interest and activity. For then

the pond would be a black and glittering surface whereon wheeled and curved the ringing, gleaming blades of

"fancy" skaters or whereon in sterner hours opposing "shinny" teams sought glory in Homeric and often gory

But those days and those scenes were now long since gone. The old mill stood a picturesque ruin, the water

wheel had given place to the steam engine, the pond had shrunk to an insignificant pool where only

pollywogs and minnows passed unadventurous lives, the mill race had dwindled to a trickling stream grown

thick with watercress and yellow lilies, and what had once been the centre of vigorous and romantic life was

A single bit of life remainedthe little log cottage, once the Manager's house a quarter of a century ago, still

stood away up among the pines behind the old mill ruin and remote from the streets and homes of the present

town. At the end of a little grassy lane it stood, solid and square, resisting with its well hewn pinelogs the

gnawing tooth of time. Abandoned by the growing town, forgotten by the mill owner, it was rediscovered

by Malcolm McNish, or rather by his keen eyed old mother on their arrival from the old land six months ago.

For a song McNish bought the solid little cottage, he might have had it as a gift but that he would not,

restored its roof, cleared out its stone chimney which, more than anything else, had caught the mother's eye,

reset the window panes, added a wee cunning porch, gave its facings a coat of paint, enclosed its bit of

flower garden in front and its "kale yaird" in the rear with a rustic paling, and made it, when the Summer had

done its work, a bonnie homelike spot which caught the eye and held the heart of the passerby.

The interior more than fulfilled the promise of the exterior. The big living room with its great stone fireplace

welcomed you on opening the porch door. From the living room on the right led two doors, each giving

Within the living room were gathered the household treasures, the Lares and Penates of the little stone

rosecovered cottage "at hame awa' ayont the sea." On the mantel a solid hewn log of oak, a miracle of

broadaxe work, were "bits o' chiny" rarely valuable as antiques to the knowing connoisseur but beyond

price to the old whitehaired lady who daily dusted them with reverent care as having been borne by her

mother from the Highland home in the far north country when as a bride she came by the "cadger's cairt" to

her new home in the lonely city of Glasgow. Of that Glasgow home and of her own home later the walls of

The character giving bit of furniture, however, in the living room was a bookcase that stood in a corner. Its

beautiful inlaid cabinet work would in itself have attracted attention, but not the case but the books were its

distinction. The great English poets were represented there in serviceable bindings showing signs of use,

Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Browning, Keats, and with them in various editions, Burns. Beside the

poets Robert Louis had a place, and Sir Walter, as well as Kipling and Meredith and other moderns. But on

the shelf that showed most wear were to be found the standard works of economists of different schools from

the great Adam Smith to Marx and the lot of his imitators and disciples. This was Malcolm's bookcase.

There was in another corner near the fireplace a little table and above it hung a couple of shelves for books

of another sort, the Bible and The Westminster Confession, Bunyan and Baxter and Fox's Book of Martyrs,

Rutherford and McCheyne and Law, The Ten Years' Conflict, Spurgeon's Sermons and Smith's Isaiah, and a

well worn copy of the immortal Robbie. This was the mother's corner, a cosy spot where she nourished her

In this "cosy wee hoosie" Malcolm McNish and his mother passed their quiet evenings, for the days were

given to toil, in talk, not to say discussion of the problems, the rights and wrongs of the working man. They

agreed in much; they differed, and strongly, in point of view. The mother was all for reform of wrongs with

the existing economic system, reverencing the great Adam Smith. The son was for a new deal, a new system,

the Socialistic, with modifications all his own. All, or almost all, that Malcolm had read the mother had read

with the exception of Marx. She "cudna thole yon godless loon" or his theories or his works. Malcolm had

grown somewhat sick of Marx since the war. Indeed, the war had seriously disturbed the foundations of

Malcolm's economic faith, and he was seeking a readjustment of his opinion and convictions, which were

rather at loose ends. In this state of mind he found little comfort from his shrewd old mother.

"Y'e have nae anchor, laddie, and ilka woof of air and ilka turn o' the tide and awa' ye go."

As for her anchor, she made no bones of announcing that she had been brought up on the Shorter Catechism

and the Confession and in consequence found a place for every theory of hers, Social and Economic as well

as Ethical and Religious, within the four corners of the mighty fabric of the Calvinistic system of Philosophy

One of the keen joys of her life since coming to the new country she found in her discussions with the Rev.

Murdo Matheson, whom, after some considerable hesitation, she had finally chosen to "sit under." The Rev.

Murdo's theology was a little narrow for her. She had been trained in the schools of the Higher Critics of the

Free Kirk leaders at home. She talked familiarly of George Adam Smith, whom she affectionately designated

as "George Adam." She would wax wrathful over the memory of the treatment meted out to Robertson Smith

by a former generation of Free Kirk heresy hunters. Hence she regarded with pity the hesitation with which

her Minister accepted some of the positions of the Higher Critics. Although it is to be confessed that the war

"What d'ye think o' yere friend Harnack the noo?" her son had jibed at her soon after the appearance of the

"What do A think o' him?" she answered, sparring for time. "What do A think o' him?" Then, as her eye ran

over her son's uniform, for he was on leave at the time, she blazed forth, "A'll tell ye what A think o' him. A

think that Auld Hornie has his hook intil him and the hale kaboodle o' them. They hae forsaken God and

made tae themselves ither gods and the Almichty hae gi'en them ower tae a reprobate mind."

But her Canadian Minister's economic positions satisfied her. He had specialised in Social and Economic

She had little patience with half baked theorists and none at all with mere agitators. It was therefore with no

small indignation that she saw on a Sunday morning Mr. Wigglesworth making his way up the lane toward

"The Lord be guid tae us!" she exclaimed. "What brings yon cratur hereand on a Sabbath mornin'? Mind

you, Malcolm," she continued in a voice of sharp decision, "A'll hae nane o' his 'rights o' British citizens'

"Who is it, Mother?" enquired her son, coming from his room to look out through the window. "Oh, dinna

fash ye're heid ower yon windbag," he added, dropping into his broadest Doric and patting his mother on the

"He disna fash me," said his mother. "Nae fears. But A'll no pairmit him to brak the Sabbath in this hoose, A

can tell ye." None the less she opened the door to Mr. Wigglesworth with dignified courtesy.

"Guid mornin', Mr. Wigglesworth," she said cordially. "Ye're airly on yere way tae the Kirk."

"Yesthat isyes," replied Mr. Wigglesworth in some confusion, "I am a bit (h)early. Fact is, I was

(h)anxious to catch Malcolm before 'e went aht. I 'ave a rather (h)important business on 'and with 'im, very

"'Business,' did ye say, Mr. Wigglesworth?" Mrs. McNish stood facing him at the door. "Business! On the

"Well, Mrs. McNish, not (h)exactly business. That is," he said with an apologetic smile, "(h)it depends, you

Mr. Wigglesworth's head went over to one side as if in contemplation of a new and striking idea.

"A pit nae meaning into a word that's no in it on its ain accoont," she replied with uncompromising grimness.

There was no place for casuistry in the old Scotch lady's mind. A thing was or was not, and there was an end

"Certainly, Mrs. McNish, certainly! And so sez I. But there might be a slight difference of (h)opinion

between you and I, so to speak, as to just w'at may constitute 'business.' Now, for (h)instance" Mr.

Wigglesworth was warming to his subject, but the old lady standing on her doorstep fixed her keen blue eyes

"Oh! Yes, thank you. By the way, is your son in, by (h)any chance? Per'raps 'e's shavin' 'isself, eh?" Mr.

"Shavin' himsel!" exclaimed Mrs. McNish. "On the Sawbath! Man, d'ye think he's a heathen, then?" Mrs.

"An 'eathen? Not me! I should consider it an 'eathenish practice to go dirty of a Sunday," said Mr.

"Hoots, man, wha's talkin' about gaein' dirty? Can ye no mak due preparation on the Saturday? What is yere

"What is it, Mother?" Malcolm's voice indicated a desire to appease the wrath that gleamed in his mother's

eye. "Oh, it is Mr. Wigglesworth. Yes, yes! I want to see Mr. Wigglesworth. Will you come in, Mr.

"A ken weel what it is. But A dinna like tae be fashed and flustered in ma mind on ma way till the Hoose o'

"I shall only require a very few moments, Madam," said Mr. Wigglesworth. "The matter with w'ich I am

(h)entrusted need not take more than a minute or two. In fact, I simply want to (h)announce a special, a very

"Wellnot exactlythat isI don't know but you might call it a religious meetin'. To my mind, Mrs.

"Now, Mother, I suppose it's a regular enough meeting. Just wait till I get my hat, Mr. Wigglesworth. I'll be

"Now, now, Mother, surely you know me well enough by this time to trust my judgment in a matter of this

"Hoot, toot," said her son, passing out. "A'll be back in abundant time for the Kirk, Mither. Never you fear."

"Weel, weel, laddie, remember what day it is. Ye ken weel it's no day for warldly amusement."

"Ay, Mither," replied her son, smiling a little at the associating of Mr. Wigglesworth with amusement of any

In abundance of time Malcolm was ready to allow a quiet, unhurried walk with his mother which would bring

It happened that the Rev. Murdo was on a congenial theme and in specially good form that morning.

"How much better is a man than a sheep," was his text, from which with great ingenuity and eloquence he

proceeded to develop the theme of the supreme value of the human factor in modern life, social and

industrial. With great cogency he pressed the argument against the inhuman and degrading view that would

make man a mere factor in the complex problem of Industrial Finance, a mere inanimate cog in the Industrial

"What did you think of the sermon, Mother?" asked Malcolm as they entered the quiet lane leading home.

"No sae bad, laddie, no sae bad. Yon's an able laddie, especially on practical themes. Ay, it was no that bad,"

"Hard on him? He's no a sheep, nor in some ways as guid's a sheep, A grant ye that, but such as he is was it

no ma duty to pull him oot o' the mire o' Sawbath desecration and general ungodliness?"

"Aw, Mither, Mither! Ye're incorrigible! Ye ought to come to the meeting this afternoon and give them all a

"Hoots! Nonsense, Mither!" said her son hastily, knowing well how thoroughly capable she was of not only

going to a meeting of Union workers but also of speaking her mind if in her judgment they were guilty of

transgressing the Sabbath law. "The meeting will be just as religious as Mr. Matheson's anyway."

Whether religious in the sense understood by Mrs. McNish, the meeting was not wanting in ethical interest or

human passion. It was a gathering of the workers in the various industries in the town, Trade Unionists most

of them, but with a considerable number who had never owed allegiance to any Union and a number of

disgruntled exUnionists. These latter were very vociferous and for the most part glib talkers, with passions

that under the slightest pressure spurted foaming to the surface. Returned soldiers there were who had taken

on their old jobs but who had not yet settled down into the colourless routine of mill and factory work under

the discipline of those who often knew little of the essentials of discipline as these men knew them. A group

of FrenchCanadian factory hands, taken on none too willingly in the stress of war work, constituted an

element of friction, for the soldiers despised and hated them. With these there mingled new immigrants from

the shipyards and factories of the Old Land, all members or exmembers of Trade Unions, Socialists in

training and doctrine, familiar with the terminology and jargon of those Socialistic debating schools, the

Local Unions of England and Scotland, alert, keen, ready of wit and ready of tongue, rejoicing in wordy,

The occasion of the meeting was the presence of a great International Official of the American Federation of

Labour, and its purpose to strengthen International Unionism against the undermining of guerilla bands of

nonUnionists and very especially against the new organizations emanating from the far West, the One Big

At the door of the hall stood Mr. Wigglesworth, important, fussy and unctuously impressive, welcoming,

directing, introducing and, incidentally but quite ineffectively, seeking to inspire with respect for his august

person a nondescript crowd of small boys vainly seeking entrance. With an effusiveness amounting to

reverence he welcomed McNish and directed him in a mysterious whisper toward a seat on the platform,

which, however, McNish declined, choosing a seat at the side about half way up the aisle.

A local Union official was addressing the meeting but saying nothing in particular, and simply filling in till

the main speaker should arrive. McNish, quite uninterested in the platform, was quietly taking note of the

audience, with many of whom he had made a slight acquaintance. As his eye travelled slowly from face to

face it was suddenly arrested. There beside her father was Annette Perrotte, who greeted him with a bright

nod and smile. They had long ago made up their tiff. Then McNish had another surprise. At the door of the

hall appeared Captain Jack Maitland who, after coolly surveying the room, sauntered down the aisle and took

"Quite a crowd, McNish," he said. "I hear the American Johnnie is quite a spouter so I came along to hear."

McNish looked at him and silently nodded. He could not understand his presence at that kind of a meeting.

"You know I am a Union man now," said Captain Jack, accurately reading his silence. "Joined a couple of

But McNish kept his face gravely noncommittal, wondering how it was that this important bit of news had

not reached him. Then he remembered that he had not attended the last two monthly meetings of his Union,

and also he knew that little gossip of the shops came his way. None the less, he was intensely interested in

Maitland's appearance. He did Captain Jack the justice to acquit him of anything but the most honourable

intentions, yet he could not make clear to his mind what end the son of his boss could serve by joining a

Labour Union. He finally came to the conclusion that this was but another instance of an "Intellectual"

studying the social and economic side of Industry from firsthand observation. It was a common enough

thing in the Old Land. He was conscious of a little contempt for this dilettante sort of Labour Unionism, and

he was further conscious of a feeling of impatience and embarrassment at Captain Jack's presence. He

belonged to the enemy camp, and what right had he there? From looks cast in their direction it was plain that

others were asking the same question. His thought received a sudden and unexpected exposition from the

platform from no less a person than Mr. Wigglesworth himself to whom as one of the oldest officials in

Unionised Labour in the town had been given the honour of introducing the distinguished visitor and

In flowing periods and with a reckless but wholly unauthorised employment of aspirates he "welcomed the

(h)audience, (h)especially the ladies, and other citizens among 'oom 'e was delighted to (h)observe a

representative of the (h)employing class 'oo was for the present 'e believed one of themselves." To his

annoyed embarrassment Captain Jack found himself the observed of many eyes, friendly and otherwise. "But

'e would assure Captain Maitland that although 'e might feel as if 'e 'ad no right to be 'ere"

"'Ere! 'Ere!" came a piercing voice in unmistakable approval, galvanising the audience out of its apathy into

"(H)I want most (h)emphatically to (h)assure Captain Maitland," continued Mr. Wigglesworth, frowning

"No! No! We don't want no toffs 'ere." This was followed by more definite applause from the group

Mr. Wigglesworth was much affronted and proceeded to administer a rebuke to the interrupter.

"Mr. Chairman," said the owner of the Cockney voice, rising to his feet and revealing himself a small man

with large head and thin wizened features, "Mr. Chairman, I rise to protest right 'ere an' naow against the

"Aw, shut up!" yelled a soldier, rising from his place. "Throw out the little rat!"

Immediately there was uproar. On every side returned soldiers, many of whom had been in Captain Jack's

battalion, sprang up and began moving toward the little Cockney who, boldly standing his ground, was wildly

appealing to the chair and was supported by the furious cheering of a group of his friends, Old Country men

most of whom, as it turned out, were of the extreme Socialist type. By this time it had fully been borne in

upon Captain Jack's mind, somewhat dazed by the unexpected attack, that he was the occasion of the uproar.

"Come up to the platform," said a voice in his ear. He turned and saw McNish shouldering his way through

the excited crowd toward the front. After a moment's hesitation he shrugged his shoulders and followed. The

move caught the eye and apparently the approval of the audience, for it broke into cheers which gathered in

volume till by the time that McNish and Captain Jack stood on the platform the great majority were wildly

yelling their enthusiastic approval of their action. McNish stood with his hand raised for a hearing. Almost

instantly there fell a silence intense and expectant. The Scotchman stood looking in the direction of the

"A'm for freedom! The right of public assembly! A'm feart o' nae enemy, not the deevil himself. This

gentleman is a member of my Union and he stays rrright heerre." With a rasping roll of his r's he

seemed to be ripping the skin off the little Cockney's very flesh. The response was a yell of savage cheers

which seemed to rock the building and which continued while Mr. Wigglesworth in overflowing effusiveness

first shook Maitland's limp hand in a violent doublehanded pump handle exercise and then proceeded to

introduce him to the distinguished visitor, shouting his name in Maitland's ear, "Mr 'Oward (H)E. Bigelow,"

adding with a sudden inspiration, "(H)Introduce 'im to the (h)audience. Yes! Yes! Most (h)assuredly," and

continued pushing both men toward the front of the platform, the demonstration increasing in violence.

"I say, old chap," shouted Captain Jack in the stranger's ear, "I feel like a fool."

"I feel like a dozen of 'em," shouted Mr. Bigelow in return. "But," he added with a slow wink, "this old fool is

Captain Jack took one step to the front of the platform and held up his hand. The cheering assumed an even

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said in a slightly bored voice, "this gentleman is Mr. Howard E. Bigelow, a

representative of the American Federation of Labour, whom as a member of the Woodworkers' Union, Local

He bowed to the visitor, bowed to the audience once more swaying under a tempest of cheers, and, followed

From the first moment of his speech Mr. Howard E. Bigelow had to fight for a hearing. The little Cockney

was the centre of a well organised and thoroughly competent body of obstructers who by clever "heckling,"

by points of order, by insistent questioning, by playing now upon the antiAmerican string, now upon the

antiFederation string, by ribald laughter, by cheering a happy criticism, completely checked every attempt

of the speaker to take flight in his oratory. The International official was evidently an old hand in this sort of

game, but in the hands of these past masters in the art of obstruction he met more than his match. Maitland

was amazed at his patience, his selfcontrol, his adroitness, but they were all in vain. At last he was forced to

appeal to the Chairman for British fair play. But the Chairman was helplessly futile and his futility was only

emphasised by Mr. Wigglesworth's attempts now at browbeating which were met with derision and again at

entreaty which brought only demands for ruling on points of order, till the meeting was on the point of

"McNish, I think I'll take a hand in this," said Captain Jack in the Scotchman's ear. "Are you game?"

"Wait a wee," said McNish, getting to his feet. Slowly he once more made his way to the platform. As the

crowd caught on to his purpose they broke into cheering. When he reached the side of the speaker he spoke a

word in his ear, then came to the front with his hand held up. There was instant quiet. He looked coolly over

"A belonged tae the Feeftyfirrst Diveesion," he said in his richest Doric. "We had a rare time wi' bullies

over there. A'm for free speech! Noo, listen tae me, you Cockney wheedle doodle. Let another cheep out o'

yere trap an' the Captain there will fling ye oot o' this room as we did the Kayser oot o' France."

"You said it, McNish," said Maitland, leaping to the aisle. With a roar a dozen returned men were on their

"Steady, squad!" rang out Captain Jack's order. "Fall into this aisle! Shun!" As if on parade the soldiers fell

With one single motion Macnamara's hand swept the little man out of his place into the aisle.

From hand to hand, with never a pause, amid the jeers and laughter of the crowd the little man was passed

Mr. Howard E. Bigelow finished his speech in peace. He made appeal for the closing up of the ranks of

Labour in preparation for the big fight which was rapidly coming. They had just finished with Kaiserism in

Europe but they were faced with only another form of the same spirit in their own land. They wanted no more

fighting, God knew they had had enough of that, but there were some things dearer than peace, and Labour

was resolved to get and to hold those things which they had fought for, "which you British and especially you

Canadians shed so much blood to win. We are making no threats, but we are not going to stand for tyranny at

the hands of any man or any class of men in this country. Only one thing will defeat us, not the traditional

enemies of our class but disunion in our own ranks due to the fool tactics of a lot of disgruntled and

discredited traitors like the man who has just been fired from this meeting." He asked for a committee which

would take the whole situation in hand. He closed with a promise that in any struggle which they undertook

under the guidance of their International Officers the American Federation of Labour to their last dollar

Before the formal closing of the meeting Maitland slipped quietly out. As he reached the sidewalk a light

hand touched his arm. Turning he saw at his elbow Annette, her face aglow and her black eyes ablaze with

"Oh, Captain Jack," she panted, her hands outstretched, "you were just wonderful! Splendid! Oh! I don't

know what to say! I" She paused in sudden confusion. A hot colour flamed in her face. Maitland took her

"Oh, nothing. I am just excited, I guess. I don't know what" She pulled her hands away. "But you were

"Oh, it was your friend McNish did the trick," said Captain Jack. "Very neat bit of work that, eh? Very neat

"Oh, then, if that's all, come along with me. Your father knows his way about." The girl paused a moment,

"Well, I will. I want to talk to you about it. Oh, I am so excited!" She danced along at his side in gay

"Oh, never mind Malcolm," cried the girl excitedly, "come along. I don't want him just now. I want" She

"Oh, all right," said Captain Jack. "He's gone back anyway. Come along Annette, old girl. I have been

"Well, you see me," said the girl, laughing up into his eyes with a frank, warm admiration in hers that made

Captain Jack's heart quicken a bit in its steady beat. He was a young man with a normal appreciation of his

own worth. She, young, beautiful, unspoiled, in the innocence of her girlish heart was flinging at him the full

tribute of a warm, generous admiration with every flash of her black eyes and every intonation of her voice.

Small wonder if Captain Jack found her good to look at and to listen to. Often during the walk home he kept

saying to himself, "Jove, that McNish chap is a lucky fellow!" But McNish, taking his lonely way home, was

Business was suspended for the day in Blackwater. That is, men went through their accustomed movements,

but their thoughts were far apart from the matters that were supposed to occupy their minds during the

working hours of the day. In the offices, in the stores, in the shops, on the streets, in the schools, in the homes

the one, sole topic of conversation, the one mental obsession was The Great Game. Would the Maitland Mill

Hockey Team pull it off? Blackwater was not a unit in desiring victory for the Maitland Mill team, for the

reason that the team's present position of proud eminence in the hockey world of Eastern Ontario had been

won by a series of smashing victories over local and neighbouring rival teams. They had first disposed of that

snappy seven of lightning lightweights, the local High School team, the champions in their own League.

They had smashed their way through the McGinnis Foundry Seven in three Homeric contests. This victory

attracted the notice of the Blackwater Black Eagles, the gay and dashing representatives of Blackwater's most

highly gilded stratum of society, a clever, hardfighting, neverdying group of athletes who, summer and

winter, kept themselves in perfect form, and who had moved rapidly out of obscurity into the dazzling

spotlight of championship over their district. For the sake of the practice in it and in preparation for their

games in the Eastern Ontario Hockey League, they took on the Maitland Mill team.

It took the Black Eagles a full week to recover sufficient control to be able to speak intelligibly as to the

"how" and "why" of that match. For the Mill team with apparent ease passed in thirteen goals under and over

and behind and beside the big broad goal stick of Bell Blackwood, the goal wonder of the League; and the

single register for the Eagles had been netted by Fatty Findlay's own stick in a moment of aberration. During

the week following the Black Eagle debacle the various Bank managers, Law Office managers and other

financial magnates of the town were lenient with their clerks. Social functions were abandoned. The young

gentlemen had one continuous permanent and unbreakable engagement at the rink or in preparation for it. But

all was in vain. The result of the second encounter was defeat for the Eagles, defeat utter, unmistakable and

inexplicable except on the theory that they had met a superior team. Throughout the hockey season the

Maitland Mill maintained an unbroken record of victory till their fame flew far; and at the close of the season

enthusiasts of the game had arranged a match between the winners of the Eastern Ontario Hockey League,

the renowned Cornwall team and the Maitland Mill boys. To day the Cornwalls were in town, and the town

in consequence was quite unfit for the ordinary duties of life. The Eagles almost to a man were for the local

team; for they were sports true to type. Not so however their friends and following, who resented defeat of

Of course it was Jack Maitland who was responsible for their humiliation. It was he who had organised his

fellow workmen, put them through a blood and iron discipline, filled them with his own spirit of irresistible

It was an old game with Jack Maitland. When a High School boy he had developed that spirit of dominating

and indomitable leadership that had made his team the glory of the town. Later by sound and steady grinding

at the game he had developed a style and plan of team play which had produced a town team in the winter

immediately preceding the war that had won championship honors. Now with his Mill team he was simply

It had astonished his friends to learn that Captain Jack was playing hockey again. He had played no game

except in a desultory way since the war. He had resisted the united efforts of the Eagles and their women

friends to take the captaincy of that team. The mere thought of ever appearing on the ice in hockey uniform

gave him a sick feeling at his heart. Of that noble seven whom he had in prewar days led so often to victory

four were still "over there," one was wandering round a darkened room. Of the remaining two, one Rupert

Stillwell was too deeply engrossed in large financial affairs for hockey. Captain Jack himself was the seventh,

and the mere sight of a hockey stick on a school boy's shoulder gave him a heart stab.

It was his loyal pal Patricia Templeton, who gave him the first impulse toward the game again. To her

pleading he had yielded so far as to coach, on a Saturday afternoon, her team of High School girls to victory.

But it was the Reverend Murdo Matheson who furnished the spur to conscience that resulted in the organising

"You, John Maitland, more than any of us and more than all of us together can draw these lads of yours from

"Great Scott, Padre"the Reverend Murdo had done his bit overseas "what are you giving me now?"

"You, more than any or all of us, I am saying," repeated the minister solemnly. "For God's sake, man, get

these lads on the ice or anywhere outofdoors for the good of their immortal souls."

"Me! And why me, pray?" Captain Jack had asked. "I'm no uplifter. Why jump on me?"

"You, because God has bestowed on you the gift to lead men," said the minister with increasing solemnity.

That very night, passing by the Lucky Strike Pool Rooms, Captain Jack had turned in to find a score and

more of youthsmany of them from the millsflashing their money with reckless freedom in an

atmosphere thick with foul tobaccosmoke and reeking with profane and lewd speech. On reaching his home

that night Maitland went straight to the attic and dug up his hockey kit. Before he slept he had laid his plans

It was no easy task to force these men into training habits, to hold them to the grind, to discipline them into

selfcontrol in temper and in desire. It was of vast assistance to him that three of his seven were overseas

men, while some dozen or so of the twenty in the club were returned soldiers. It was part of his discipline that

his team should never shirk a day's work for the game except on the rare occasions when they went on tour.

Hence the management in the various mills and factories, at first hostile and suspicious, came to regard these

athletic activities on the part of their employees with approval and finally came to give encouragement and

Today was a half holiday for the Maitland Mills and the streets were noticeably full of the men and their

sweethearts and wives in their Sunday clothes. Not the team, however. Maitland knew better than that. He

took his men for a run in the country before noon, bringing them home in rich warm glow. Then after a bath

and a hard rubdown they dined together at the mill and then their Captain ordered them home to sleep,

On his way home Captain Jack was waylaid by his admirer and champion, Patricia. She, standing in front of

"I have not even seen you for a whole week," she complained, getting in beside him, "and your phone is

always busy in the evening. Of course no one can get you during the day. And I do want to know how the

team is. Oh! do tell me they are fit for the game of their lives! Are they every one fit?"

"Oh, I hope you are right. But you are so sure," exclaimed his companion. "The Cornwalls are wonderful,

"Oh, you know what I mean. It is a pity, too, for he is really very nice. I mean he is so good to me," sighed

"Don't sigh, Patsy, old girl. It really isn't worth it, you know. How is the supply of choc's keeping up?"

"Now you are thinking me a pig. But tell me about your men. Are they really in form?"

"And that darling Fatty Findlay. I do hope he will not lose his head and let a goal in. He is perfectly adorable

with that everlasting smile of his. I do hope Fatty is at the peak, too. Is he, really?" The anxiety in Patricia's

"Captain Jack, if you don't win tonight I shallwell, I shall just weep my eyes out."

"That settles it, Pat. We shall win. We can'tI can't spare those lovely eyes, you know," said Captain Jack,

One by one Captain Jack's team were passed in reviewthe defence, Macnamara and "Jack" Johnson, so

called for his woolly white head; "Reddy" Hughes, Ross, "Snoopy" Sykes, who with Captain Jack made the

forward line, all were declared to be fit to deliver the last ounce in their bodies, the last flicker in their souls.

"Do you know, Captain Jack," said Patricia gravely, "there is one change you ought to make in your forward

"Yes! What is that, Pat?" asked Captain Jack, with never a suggestion of a smile.

"I would change Snoopy for Geordie Ross. You know Geordie is a little too careful, and he is hardly fast

enough for you. Now you and Snoopy on left wing would be oh! perfectly wonderful."

"Patsy, you are a wizard!" exclaimed Captain Jack. "That very change has been made and the improvement is

unbelievable. We are both lefthanders and we pull off our little specialties far more smoothly than Geordie

and I could. You have exactly hit the bull. You watch for that back of the goal play tonight. Well, here we

"Oh, yes. Rupert, you see, as patron of the Eagles was able to get the very best. But won't you come in and

see mother? She is really quite worked up over it, though of course she couldn't bear to go."

"Yes, I will go in for a few minutes," he said gravely. "No! Your mother would notcould not come, of

There flashed before his mind a picture from prewar days. The rink packed with wildly excited throngs and

in a certain reserved section midway down the side the TempletonMaitland party with its distinguished

looking men and beautiful women following with eager faces and shining eyes the fortunes of their sons in

the fight before them. The flash of that picture was like a hand of ice upon his heart as Captain Jack entered

"Here he is, Mamma!" cried Patricia as she ushered her hero into the room with a sweeping gesture. "And he

"But how delightful!" exclaimed Adrien coming from the piano where she had been playing, with Rupert

"We are so glad you found time to run in," said Mrs. Templeton. "You must have a great deal to say to your

"I'm glad I came too, now," said Captain Jack, holding the fragile hand in his and patting it gently. "I am

afraid Patricia is responsible for my coming in. I don't really believe I could have ventured on my own."

A silence fell on the company which none of them seemed able to break. Other days were hard upon them. In

this very room it was that that other seven were wont to meet for their afternoon tea before their great

Mrs. Templeton, looking up at Jack, found his eyes fixed upon her and full of tears. With a swift upward

"I know, Jack dear," she said, with lips that quivered piteously. For a moment or two he knelt before her

while she held him in a close embrace. Then he gently kissed her cheek and rose to his feet.

"Give him some tea, Adrien," she said, making a gallant struggle to steady her voice, "a cup of teaand no

"Yes! a fresh cup!" she cried eagerly, "and a sandwich. You, Pat, get the sandwiches. No cake. We must do

"You have a wonderful team, Jack, I hear," said her mother. "Come and sit here beside me and tell me about

them. Patricia has been keeping me informed, but she is not very coherent at times. Of course, I know about

your wonderful goal keeper Findlay, is it not?" And the gentle little lady kept a stream of conversation going,

for she saw how deeply moved Maitland was. It was his first visit to the Rectory since he had taken up the

game again, and the rush of emotion released by the vivid memory of those old happy days when that jolly

group of boys had filled this familiar room with their noisy clatter wellnigh overcame him.

For a minute or two he fussed with the tea things till he could master his voice, then he said very quietly:

"They are very decent chapsreally very good fellows and they have taken their training extraordinarily

well. Of course, Macnamara and Johnson were in my old company, and that helps a lot."

"Let's see, he is one of your defence, isn't he?" said Stillwell, who had felt himself rather out of the

conversation. Maitland nodded. The presence of Stillwell in that room introduced a painful element. Once he

had been one of the seven and though never so intimately associated with the Rectory life as the others, yet at

all team gatherings he had had his place. But since the war Maitland had never been able to endure his

presence in that room. Today, with the memory of those old thrilling days pressing hard upon his heart, he

could not bear to look upon a man, once one of them, now forever an outsider. The tea coming in brought to

"Ah, here you are," he cried anticipating Stillwell in relieving Adrien of part of her load. "You are a life

"Three lumps, is it not?" said the girl, smiling at him. "You see, I remember, though you really don't deserve

"Yes! a whole plate for yourself, Captain Jack," said Patricia. "Come and sit by me here."

"No indeed!" said her sister with a bright glow on her cheeks. "Jack is going to sit right here by the teapot,

"No! you are both wrong, children," said their mother. "Jack is coming to sit beside me. He's my boy this

"Mother, we will all share him," said Patricia, placing chairs near her mother. "I must talk about the match, I

A shadow for a moment wiped the brightness from the face and eyes of the elder sister, but yielding to her

"I don't believe you want to talk about the match, do you? That is not supposed to be good psychology before

"He has just sent his men off to bed, I know," said Patricia, "and we will send him off when he has had his

"I am so glad you are playing again," said Mrs. Templeton to Maitland as he sat down by her side. "You need

"I don't believe I need recreation very much, but these chaps of mine do," he said simply.

"Yes. They lead rather a dull life, you know. Not much colour. A pool room on the whole has rather a rotten

effect upon a chap who has been nine or ten hours indoors already and who sticks at the same thing day in

"Well, I don't want to pose as a workingman's advocate and that sort of thing. But really he has a slow time."

"Then, why doesn't he get busy and do something for himself," broke in Stillwell, impatiently. "The Lord

knows he is getting most of the money these days and has more spare time than anyone else in the

"Look here!" said her sister. "You are not going to get Jack into a labour controversy this afternoon. But I

would just like to ask you, Pat, how keen you'd be on organising and conducting a Literary and Debating

Society after you had put in not five and a half hours' lessons, but eight or nine hours'! It would take some

doing, eh? But let's cut out the labour trouble. It is nearly time for his sleep, isn't it?"

"Is it, Captain Jack? If so, we won't keep you a minute," said Patricia anxiously. "No, mother! you must not

Captain Jack rose. "Patricia would make an ideal trainer," he said. "I fear I must really go. I am awfully glad

"And so do we, Jack," said the old lady in a wistful voice. "Won't you come again soon?"

"Oh, do!" said the girl, with a little colour coming into her face. "It has been a little like old times to see you

Maitland stiffened and turned again to the old lady whose eyes were turned on him with sad entreaty.

"Yes, I shall come to see you," said Maitland, bowing over her hand in farewell.

"We shall expect you to come and see us tonight at the match, remember, Captain Jack," said Patricia, as he

But there was no sleep that afternoon for Captain Jack. On his way through the town he was halted by

"Now? I can't come now, McNish. I have to be on the ice in three hours and I must get a little rest. What's up,

"What do you mean, McNish? Well, get in here and I'll go to see them." McNish got into the car. "Now,

"Well, it is a dog's trick," said Maitland wrathfully, "to get on to a chap before a big match like this."

In the Union Committee rooms a group of men were awaiting them, among them Mr. Wigglesworth and the

"What's all this tomfoolery, Wigglesworth?" demanded Captain Jack, striding in among them.

"(H)excuse me," said the little cockney. "You are a member of the Woodworkers' Union I (h)understand."

"(H)allow me," said Mr. Wigglesworth. "Mister Simmons, Mr. MaitlandMr. Simmons is our new

"Well, what do you want of me?" demanded Maitland. "Don't you know I am tied up this afternoon?"

"You see, Mr. Maitland," began Mr. Wigglesworth in a hurried and apologetic manner.

"'Ere! you keep aht o' this," said Simmons sharply, "this 'ere's my job. I shall tell Brother Maitland all that is

"Naw then! IS this your job or mine? Was you (h)appointed or was I? When I find myself (h)unable to

discharge my dooty to the Union I might per'aps call on you, Brother Wigglesworth; but until I find myself in

that situation I 'ope you will refrain from shovin' in your 'orn." Brother Simmons' sarcasm appeared to wither

Maitland glanced round on the group of half a dozen men. Some of them he knew; others were strangers to

"I don't know what the business is, gentlemen," he said, curbing his wrath, "but I want to know if it can't wait

till tomorrow? You know our boys are going on the ice in a couple of hours or so"

"Goin' on the (h)ice! Goin' on the (h)ice! W'at's that to do with Union business?" snarled Simmons. "This

'ere's no silly kids' gaime! It's a man's work we ave in 'and, if you don't want to do the business to w'ich you

are (h)appointed w'y just say so and we shall know 'ow to (h)act. There 'as been too much o' this gaime

"All rrright, brother, but A doot ye're oot o' order. Who is the chairman o' this Committee?" asked McNish

"All right. I suggest you proceed regularly and call the meeting to order," said McNish quietly. Simmons,

Clumsily and hesitatingly Brother Phillips began stating the business of the Committee. He had not gone far

"Mr. Chairman, with your permission I would just like to say that the resolution passed at the representative

joint meetin' of the Maitland Mills and Box Factory (h)employees last night will sufficiently (h)explain the

(h)object of this meetin' 'ere." Brother Simmons' tone suggested infinite pity for the lumbering efforts of the

"Yes, I guess it will," said the chairman, blushing in his confusion. Brother Phillips was new to his position

"I would suggest that that resolution be read," said Brother Simmons, the pity in his tone hardly veiling his

"Yes! Yes! Of course!" said Brother Phillips hurriedly. "Eh would you please read it, Mr.that

With great show of deliberation and of entire mastery of the situation Mr. Simmons produced a Minute Book

"Mr. Chairman and brothers, I may say that this 'ere resolution was passed at a joint representative meetin' of

"There is no sich company, Mr. Chairman," said McNish. "A say let us hear the resolution. We'll hear the

speech afterwards if we must." It was again Greek meeting Greek, and the little man turned with a sarcastic

"I suppose Brother McNish is (h)anxious to get ready for this gaime we've bin 'earing abaht. I should just like

to remind 'im that we 'ave a bigger gaime on 'and, if 'e wants to get into it. Personally I don't 'ave no use for

these 'ere gaimes. I 'ave seen the same kind of capitalistic dodge to distract the workin' man's (h)attention

"Mr. Chairman, I 'ave the floor and if Brother McNish knows (h)anythink abaht constitootional

"Maister ChairrmanMaisterr Chairrrman!" Brother McNish's Doric was ominously rasping. "A

rise tae a pint of orrderr. And Brother Simmons, who claims to be an expert in constitutional law and

procedure knows I have the floor. Ma pint of order is this, that there is no business before the meeting and as

"A searched the toon for them but cudna find them, but as A was sayin'as the secretary has no business tae

bring before the meeting but a wheen havers, A move we adjourn tae tomorrow at 12:30 p. m. in this place,

and I believe that as Brither Maitland is also a member o' this committee he will second the motion."

Maitland, not knowing in the least what the whole thing was about, but seeing a way out of the present

"Maister Chairrman, A need not remind you that there is no discussion on a motion to adjourn."

"That is quite right," said the chairman, in whose memory by some obscure mental process this fact seemed

The motion was carried by a majority of one, Brothers Wigglesworth, McNish and Maitland voting in the

"Hoot mon! Ye're no in Hyde Park. Save yere breath for yere porritch the morn" said McNish, relaxing

"We'll get 'im," said Simmons to his ally and friend. "'E's in with that there young pup. 'E knows 'ow to work

'im and 'e'd sell us all up, 'e would." Brother Simmons' brand of profanity strongly savoured of the London

"Get in here, McNish," said Maitland, who was waiting at the door. With some hesitation McNish accepted

"Now, what does this mean?" said Maitland savagely, then checking his rage, "but I ought to thank you for

"It's nae that," said McNish shortly. "It is anything but that. But I grant ye this was no time to bring it on.

That was beyond me. A doot yon puir cratur had a purpose in it, however. He disnadoes not think much of

these games of yours. But that's anitheranother"McNish was careful of his speech"matter."

"I am just telling you. There is a strong, a very strong movement under way among the unions at present."

"It may be, or worse." McNish's tone was very grave. "And as a good union man they expect your

"But it is not six months since the last agreement was signed and that agreement is running still."

"Ay, it is, but condeetions, conditions have changed since that date," said McNish, "and there must be

"Readjustment? But I have had no hint of this in our meetings. This has not come up for discussion."

"Will you come in?" he said courteously. A refusal was at Maitland's lips when the door was opened by an

old lady in a white frilled cap and without being able to explain how it came about he found himself in the

quaintly furnished but delightfully cosy livingroom, soaking in the comfort of a great blazing fire.

"This is really solid comfort," he said, spreading his hands to the glowing pine slabs.

"But you don't need it for that, Mrs. McNish," said her visitor, smiling at the strong, serene face under the

"Do I not then? An' what aboot yersel'?" The keen grey eye searched his face. Maitland was immediately

conscious of a vast dreariness in his life. He sat silent looking into the blazing fire.

"Ay," continued the old lady, "but there are the bright spots tae, an' it's ill tae glower at a cauld hearth stone."

Maitland glanced quickly at the shrewd and kindly face. What did she know about him and his life and his

"cauld hearth stone"? So he said nothing but waited. Suddenly she swerved to another theme.

"Aw, mither, now it is the terrible auld sport ye are. She drags me out to all these things." His eyes twinkled

"Hoots ye and ye're study. A doot a rale heartening scramble on the ice wad dae ye mair guid than an oor wi'

"She means Marx, of course," said McNish, in answer to Maitland's look of perplexity. "She has no use for

"Well, mither, A'll confess I clean forgot them. Ye see," he hurried to say, "A was that fashed over yon

"Committee maitter!" exclaimed the old lady indignantly. "Did I not tell ye no to heed yon screamin' English

"She means Simmons," interjected Malcolm with a little smile. "He means well, mither, but A'm vexed aboot

"Mrs. McNish," said Maitland, "I happen to have two tickets that I can let you have." For an instant she

"We can find a way in, I think, Mr. Maitland," said Malcolm, forestalling his mother's answer. But with

"A shall be verra pleased indeed to have the tickets, provided you can spare them, Mr. Maitland. Never mind,

noo, Malcolm. A ken well what ye're thinkin'. He's gey independent and his mind is on thae revolutionary

buddies o' his. A'm aye tellin' him this is nae land for yon nonsense. Gin we were in Rooshie, or Germany

whaur the people have lived in black slavery or even in the auld land whaur the fowk are haudden doon wi'

generations o' class bondage, there might be a chance for a revolutionary. But what can ye dae in a land

whaur the fowk are aye climbin' through ither, noo up, noo down, noo maister, noo man? Ye canna make

Canadians revolutionaries. They are a' on the road to be maisters. Malcolm is a clever loon but he has a wee

bee in his bonnet." The old lady smiled quizzically at her big, seriousfaced son.

"Noo, mither, ye're just talkin' havers," he said. "My mother is as great a Socialist as I am."

"That ye do, mither. Ye're gey cannie," replied her son, shaking his head, and so they passed the word to and

fro, and Maitland sat listening to the chat. The delightful spirit of camaraderie between mother and son

reminded him of a similar relationship between mother and sons in his own home in prewar days. He could

"You have given me a delightful hour, Mrs. McNish," he said as he shook hands. "You made me think of my

own home in the old days,I mean before the war came and smashed everything." The old lady's eyes were

"And my mother," added Maitland, speaking with difficulty, "and that, of course, meant our homeand

"Wad ye care to come again?" said the old lady with a quiet dignity. "We're plain fowk but ye'll be always

"Thank you. We are going to make a try for it," said Maitland. "You must shout for us."

"Ay, wull I," she answered grimly. And she kept her word for of all the company that made up the Maitland

party, none was more conspicuously enthusiastic in applause than was a whitehaired old lady in a

respectable black bonnet whose wild and weird Doric expletives and exclamations were the joy of the whole

It was an hour after the match. They were gathered in the old rendezvous of the hockey teams in prewar

"Just think of it, Mamma, dear," Patricia shouted, pirouetting now on one foot and then on the other, "Eight to

six! Oh, it is too glorious to believe! And against that wonderful team, the Cornwalls! Now listen to me,

while I give you a calm and connected account of the game. I shall always regret that you were not present,

Mamma. Victory! And at half time we were down, five to two! I confess disaster and despair stared me in the

face. And we started off so gloriously! Captain Jack and Snoopy in the first five minutes actually put in two

goals, with that back goal play of theirs. You know, I explained it to you, Mamma."

"Yes, dear, I know," said her mother, "but if you will speak a little more quietly and slowly"

"I will, Mamma," said her daughter, sitting down with great deliberation, in front of her. "I will explain to

"Well, never mind, Mamma. It is a particular and special play that Captain Jack worked out. They rush down

to the goal and instead of trying to shoot, the one with the puck circles round the back and delivers the puck

immediately in front of the goal, where another takes and slips it in. Two goals in about five minutes, wasn't

"About eight minutes, I should say," replied Hugh Maynard, the big Captain of the Eagles.

"Well, eight minutes," continued Patricia, taking up the tale, "and then they began the roughhouse business.

Jumbo Larsona terribly big Swede, Mammaput it all over little Snoopy. Chucked him about, wiped the

"Well, you know what I mean. A great big, twohundredpound monster, who simply threw Snoopy and

Georgie Ross all about the rink. It took Captain Jack all his time to stand up against him. And then they ran in

goals at a perfectly terrific rate. Two threefourfive! And only Fatty Findlay's marvelous play kept

"Yes. Oh! you don't know about her. Captain Jack brought her along. Mrs. Mcsomething."

"Yes, McNish," continued Patricia, "a perfect dear! She did everything but swear. Indeed, she may have been

Adrien interrupted: "She is perfectly priceless, Mother. I wish you could meet herso dignified and sweet."

"Sweet!" exclaimed Patricia, with a laugh. "Well, I didn't see the sweetness, exactly. But at half time,

Mamma, fancy! they stood five to two against us. It was a truly awful moment for all of us. And then, after

half time, didn't those Cornwalls within five minutes run in another goal, and, worse than all, Jumbo Larson

laid out Snoopy flat on the ice! Now the game stood six to two! Think of it, Mamma!"

Then Adrien put in: "It was at this point that the old lady made a remark which, I believe, saved the day.

"I know," said little Vic Forsythe, himself a star of the Eagle forward line. "You poor Sassenach! You

couldn't be expected to catch the full, fine flavour of it. Maitland was trying to cheer the old lady up when she

said to him: 'Yon half backs, A'm thinkin''she was a soccer fan in the old land, I believe'yon half backs,

A'm thinkin', are gey confident. It is a peety they cudna be shaken a bit in their nerves.' By Jove! Maitland

jumped at it. 'Mrs. McNish, you're right! you're right. I wonder I did not think of it before.'"

Then Adrien broke in: "Yes, from that moment there was a change in our men's tactics."

Then Patricia broke in: "Well, then, let me go on. Captain Jack knew quite well there was no use of allowing

those little chaps, Snoopy and Geordie Ross, to keep feeding themselves to those horrid monsters, Jumbo

Larson and Macnab, so what did they do but move up "Jack" Johnson and Macnamara. That is, you see,

Mamma, the forwards would take down the puck and then up behind them would come the backs,

Macnamara and "Jack" Johnson, like a perfect storm, and taking the puck from the forwards, who would then

fall back to defence, would smash right on the Cornwall defence. The very first time when "Jack" Johnson

came against Jumbo, Jumbo found himself sitting on the ice. Oh! it was lovely! Perfectly lovely! And the

next time they did it, Jumbo came at him like a bull. But that adorable "Jack" Johnson just lifted him clear off

his feet and flung him against the side. It seemed to me that the whole rink shook!"

Here Vic broke in: "You didn't hear what the old lady said at this point, I suppose. I was sitting next to her.

She was really a whole play by herself. When Jumbo went smashing against the side, the old lady gave a

"And the next time they came down," cried Patricia, taking up the tale again, "Jumbo avoided him. For

Macnamara, 'Jack' Johnson and Captain Jack came roaring down the ice at a terrific pace, and with never a

stop, smashed head on into Jumbo and Macnab and fairly hurled them in on Hepburnthat is their goal

keeper, you knowand scored. Oh! Oh! Oh! Such a yell! Six to three, and ten minutes to play."

"But Patricia," said Mrs. Templeton, "do moderate your tone. We are not in the rink. And this terrible

"Good for me?" cried Patricia. "What difference does that make? Ten minutes to play, Mamma! But that was

Then Hugh stepped in: "It really did break up that defence. It was a wonderful piece of generalship, I must

"Let me talk, Hugh," exclaimed Patricia, "I want to tell Mamma what happened next, for this was really the

most terribly exciting part of the game. And I think it was awfully clever of Captain Jack. You know, next

time, Mamma, when they came downI mean our men they pretended to be playing the same game, but

they weren't. For Captain Jack and Snoopy went back to their old specialty, and before the Cornwalls knew

where they were at, they ran in three goalsonetwothree, just like that! Oh! you ought to have seen that

rink, Mamma, and you ought to have heard the yelling! I wish you had been there! And then, just at that last

goal didn't that horrid Jumbo make a terrible and cruel swing at Snoopy's ankle, just as he passed. Knocked

him clean off his feet so that poor Snoopy lay on the ice quite still! He was really nearly killed. They had to

"Well, I wouldn't say that exactly," said Hugh. "The fact of the matter is, Snoopy is a clever little beggar and

I happened to catch his wink as Maitland was bending over him. I was helping him off the ice, you know, and

I heard him whisper, 'Don't worry, Captain, I'm all right. Get me another pair of skates. It will take a little

"Do you mean he wasn't hurt?" exclaimed Patricia indignantly. "Indeed he was; he was almost killed, I am

"And then," continued Patricia, "there was the most terrible riot and uproar. Everybody seemed to be on the

ice and fighting. Hugh ran in, and VicI should loved to have gone myselfHugh was perfectly

"A real riot, Mother," said Adrien, "the whole crowd demanding Jumbo's removal from the ice."

"Yes," continued Patricia impatiently, pushing her sister aside, "Hugh went straight to the umpire and it

looked almost as though he was going to fight, the way he tore in. But he didn't. He just spoke quietly to the

"Oh," cried Vic, "Hugh was perfectly calm and superior. He knows the umpire well. Indeed, I think the

"Oh," said Vic, "there was an interesting conversation. 'Keep out of this, Maynard. You ought to know better,'

the umpire said, 'keep out.' 'Baker, that man Larson must go off.' 'Rubbish,' said the umpire, 'they were both

roughing it.' 'Look here, Baker, that's rot and you know it. It was a deliberate and beastly trick. Put him off!'

'He stays on!' said the umpire, and he stuck to it, I'll give him credit for that. It was old Maitland that saved

the day. He came up smiling. 'I hope you are taking off the time, umpire,' he said, with that little laugh of his.

'I am not going to put Larson off,' shouted the umpire to him. 'Who asked you to?' said Maitland. 'Go on with

the game.' That saved the day. They all started cheering. The ice was cleared and the game went on."

"Oh, that was it. I couldn't understand. They were so savage first, and then suddenly they all seemed to quiet

down. It was Captain Jack. Well, Mamma, on they came again! But when poor Snoopy came out, all

"Oh, well, good psychology, I meanthat's all. Bloody bandages demanding vengeance, Jack's team, you

knowMacnamara, for instance, entreating his captain for the love of heaven to put him opposite

"I don't know exactly what you mean," said Patricia, "but the Cornwall defence was certainly rattled. They

pulled their men back and played defence like perfect demons, with the Mill men on to them like tigers."

"But, Mamma, not half so terrible as the real thing. Oh, it was perfectly splendid! And then how did it finish,

"Didn't you?" cried Adrien, "I did. Jack and Geordie Ross were going down the centre at a perfectly terrific

speed, big Macnamara backing them up. Out came Macnab and Jumbo Larson following him. Macnab

checked Geordie, who passed to Jack, who slipped it back to Macnamara. Down came Jumbo like a perfect

thunderbolt and fairly hurled himself upon Macnamara. I don't know what happened then, but"

"Oh, I do!" cried Vic. "When old Jumbo came hurtling down upon Macnamara, this was evidently what

Macnamara was waiting for. Indeed, what he had been praying for all through the game. I saw him gather

himself, crouch low, lurch forward with shoulder well down, a wrestler's trickyou know Macnamara was

the champion wrestler of his division in Francehe caught Jumbo low. Result, a terrific catapult, and the big

"Oh, but he wasn't dead. He came to. I will say he was very plucky. Then just as they faced off, time was

called. Six to six! Think of it, Mamma, six to six! And we had been five to two at half time!"

"Oh, listen, Mamma, this is the most wonderful thing of the whole match," said Adrien, trying to break in on

"No, let me, Adrien! I know exactly how it was done. Captain Jack explained it to me before. It was Captain

Jack's specialty. It was what they call the doublecircle. Here is the way it was worked." Patricia sprang to

her feet, arranged two chairs for goal and proceeded to demonstrate. "You see, Mamma, in the single circle

play, Captain Jack and Snoopy come downsay Snoopy has the puck. Just as they get near the goal Snoopy

fools the back, rushes round the goal and passes to Jack, who is standing in front ready to slip it in. But of

course the Cornwalls were prepared for the play. But that is where the doublecircle comes in. This time

Geordie had the puck, with Captain Jack immediately at his left and Snoopy further out. Well, Geordie had

the puck, you see. He rushes down and pretends to make the circle of the goal. But this time he doesn't. He

tears like mad around the goal with the puck, Snoopy tears like mad around the goal from the other side, the

defence all rush over to the left to check them, leaving the right wide open. Snoopy takes the ball from

Geordie, rushes around the goal the other way, Mamma, do you see?passes back to Reddy, his partner,

who slips it in! And poor Jumbo was unable to do anything. I believe he was still dazed from his terrible

"Seven to six, Mamma, think of it! Seven to six, and two minutes of the first overtime to play. Two minutes!

It just seemed that our men could do as they liked. The last time the whole forward lines came down, with

Macnamara and 'Jack' Johnson roaring and yelling likelikeI don't know what. And they did the double

circle again! Think of it! And then time was called. Oh, I am perfectly exhausted with this excitement!" said

Patricia, sinking back into her chair. "I don't believe I could go down to that rink, not even for another game.

At this moment Rupert Stillwell came in, full of enthusiasm for the Cornwalls' scientific hockey, and with

grudging praise for the local team, deploring their roughhouse tactics. But he met a sharp and unexpected

"Well," said Rupert, somewhat taken aback, "for instance that charge of Macnamara on Jumbo Larson at the

"I saw that quite clearly," said Adrien, "and it appeared to me quite all right. It was Larson who made the

"Of course it was," cried Patricia, indignantly. "Jumbo deserved all he got. Why, the way he mauled little

Snoopy and Geordie Ross in the first part of the game was perfectly horrid. Don't you think so, Hugh?"

"And Jumbo and Macnab," continued Hugh, "really had to break up the dangerous combination there. Of

course that was a rotten assault on Snoopy. It wasn't Jumbo's fault that he didn't break an ankle. As it was, he

At this Rupert laughed scornfully. "Rot," he said, "the whole town is laughing at all that bloody bandage

business. It was a bit of stage play. Very clever, I confess, but no hockey. I happen to know that Maitland was

"But, meantime," said Mrs. Templeton, "where is Jack! He was going to be here, was he not?"

"Feasting and dancing, I expect," said Rupert. "There is a big supper on, given by the Mill management, and

"Odd Fellows' Hall," said Rupert. "Want to go? I have tickets. Don't care for that sort of thing myself. Rather

"But my dear Patricia," said her mother, "a dance, with all those people? What nonsense. But I wish Jack

"Oh, do let us go, just for a few minutes, Mamma" entreated Patricia. "Hugh, have you tickets?"

"Well," confessed Vic, "I was thinking of dropping in myself. After all, it is our home team and they are good

"Yes, I am going," said Hugh. "I am bound to go as Captain of the Eagles, and that sort of thing, but I would,

anyway. Would you care to come, Adrien, if Mrs. Templeton will allow you? Of course there are chaperons.

"I should like awfully to go," said Adrien eagerly. "We might, for a few minutes, Mother? Of course, Patricia

"It is no place for any of you," said the mother, decidedly. "Just think of that mixed multitude! And you,

At this point a new voice broke in to the discussion and Doctor Templeton appeared. "Well, what's the

excitement," he enquired. "Oh, the match, of course! Well, what was the result?"

"Oh, Daddy, we won, we won!" cried Patricia, springing at him. "The most glorious match! Big Jumbo

Larson, a perfect monster on the Cornwall defence, was knocked out! Oh, it was a glorious match! And can't

I go down to see the dance? Adrien and Hugh and Vic are going. Only for a few minutes," she begged, with

"Give me time; let me get my breath, Patricia. Now, do begin somewheresay, with the score."

"The Lord was merciful to this family when he made you a girl, Patricia," said her father.

"But, Daddy, it was a wonderful game." Quite breathlessly, she went once more over the outstanding features

But Hugh said: "It was not reallynot quite so bad as Patricia makes it, sir. Rough at times, of course, but,

"Oh, well, Snoopy had the puck, you know. It was a little off colour, I must confess."

"And now, Daddy," said Patricia, going at her father again, "we all want to go down to the dance. There will

be speeches, you know, and I do want to hear Captain Jack," she added, not without guile. "Won't you let me

"I think I should rather like to go myself," said her father. A shout of approval rose from the whole company.

"But," continued the doctor, "I don't think I can. My dear, I think they might go for a few minutesand you

can bring me in a full account of the speeches, Patricia," he added, with a twinkle in his eye.

"But, my dear," exclaimed his wife, "this is one of those awful public affairs. You can't imagine what they are

"Well, my dear, Jack Maitland will be there, I fancy, and you were thinking of going, Hugh?"

"Yes, sir, I am going. Of course there will be a number of the friends of both teams, townspeople. Of course

"Well, my dear," said the doctor, "I think they might go down for a few minutes. But be sure to be back

before midnight. Remember, Patricia, you are to do exactly as your sister says."

"Oh, you darling," Patricia cried, hugging her father rapturously. "I will be so good; and won't it be fun!"

Odd Fellows' Hall was elaborately decorated with bunting and evergreens. The party from the Rectory,

arriving in time to hear the closing speeches of the two team captains, took their places in the gallery. The

The Captain of the visiting team declared that he had greatly enjoyed the game. He was not quite convinced

that the best team had won, but he would say that the game had gone to the team that had put up the best play.

He complimented Captain Maitland upon his generalship. He had known Captain Maitland in the old days

and he ought to have been on the lookout for the kind of thing he had put over. The Maitland Mill team had

made a perfectly wonderful recovery in the last quarter, though he rather thought his friend Macnamara had

After the roar of laughter had quieted down, the Cornwall Captain closed by expressing the hope that the

Maitland Mill team would try for a place next season in the senior hockey. In which case he expressed the

Captain Maitland's speech was characteristic. He had nothing but praise for the Cornwalls. They played a

wonderful game and a clean game. He shared in the doubt of their Captain as to which was the better team.

As to his own team, he was particularly proud of the way they had taken the trainingtheir fine selfdenial,

and especially the neverdying spirit which they showed. It was a great honour for his team to meet the

Cornwalls. A hard team to meetsometimesas Snoopy and himself had found out that eveningbut they

After the usual cheers for the teams, individually and collectively, for their supporters, for the Mill

management and for the ladies, the dinner came to an end, the whole party joining with wide open throats and

While the supper table was being cleared away preparatory to the dance, Captain Jack rushed upstairs to the

"Oh! Captain Jack, you did win! You did win! You did win! It was glorious! And that doublecircle play that

The others, Hugh, Vic and Rupert, crowded round, offering congratulations. Adrien waited behind, a

wonderful light shining in her eyes, a faint colour touching her pale cheek. Captain Jack came slowly

"Oh, Jack," she whispered, leaning toward him and breathing quickly, "it was so like the old, the dear old

Into Maitland's eyes there flashed a look of surprise, of wonder, then of piercing scrutiny, while his face grew

"Adrien," he said, in a voice low, tense, almost stern, which she alone heard. "What do you mean? Then do

"Oh, Captain Jack," cried Patricia, catching his arm, "are you going to dance? You are, aren't you? And will

The girl stood gazing at him with eyes that grew misty, the quick beating of her loyal heart almost suffocating

"My program is quite empty, you see," she said, flinging out her hands and laughing joyously into his face.

"I suppose we are all nowhere tonight," added Rupert, with a touch of bitterness in his voice.

"Well, there is only one conquering hero, you know," replied Adrien, smiling at them all.

"Now I must run off," said Maitland. "You see, I am on duty, as it were. Come down in a few minutes."

"Yes, go, Jack," said Adrien, throwing him a warm smile. "We will follow you in a few minutes."

"Oh, I am so excited!" said Patricia, as Maitland disappeared down the stairs. "I mean to dance with every

one of the team. I know I am going to have a perfectly lovely time! But I would give them all up if I could

But Patricia was quite unabashed. "I am going to have him just as often as I can," she said, brazenly.

For a few minutes they stood watching the dancers on the floor below. It was indeed, as Mrs. Templeton had

said, a "mixed multitude." Mill hands and their girls, townsfolk whose social standing was sufficiently

assured to endure the venture. A mixed multitude, but thoroughly jolly, making up in vigour what was

"Rather ghastly," said Rupert, who appeared to be quite disgusted with the whole evening's proceedings.

"They are enjoying themselves, at any rate," said Adrien, "and, after all, that is what people dance for."

"Stacks of fun. I am all for it, eh, Pat?" said Vic, making adoring eyes at the young girl.

"Oh, Adrien, look!" she cried suddenly. "There is Annette, and who is the big man with her? Oh, what an

awful dancer he is! But Annette, isn't she wonderful! What a lovely dress! I think she is the most beautiful

thing." And Patricia was right, for Annette was radiant in colour and unapproachable in the grace of her

"Well, why don't you go down, Vic," said Patricia sharply. "You know you are just aching to show off your

"They are a jolly crowd," said Adrien. "I don't think we have half the fun at our dances."

"They certainly get a lot for their money," said Vic. "But wait till they come to 'turkeyinthestraw!' That is

"So can I," murmured Vic. "Will you let me in on it? Hello," he continued, "there is the Captain and Annette.

Now look out for high art. I know the Captain's style. And a twostep! My eye! She is a little airy fairy!"

"They do hit it off, don't they," said Rupert. "They evidently know each other's paces."

Suddenly Adrien turned to Hugh: "Don't you think we should go down?" she asked. "You know we must not

"Yes, do come along!" cried Patricia, seizing Victor by the arm and hurrying to the stairs, the others making

"Oh! let us dance, Vic!" cried Patricia. "There is really no use waiting for Captain Jack. At any rate, Adrien

No second invitation was needed and together they swung off into the medley of dancers.

"We may as well follow," said Hugh. "We shall doubtless run into Maitland somewhere before long."

But not in that dance, nor in the three successive dances did Maitland appear. The precious moments were

slipping by. Patricia was becoming more and more anxious and fretful at the non appearance of her hero.

"Shall we go out into the corridor?" he said. "This air is beginning to be rather trying."

From the crowded hall they passed into the corridor, from which opened side rooms which were used as

dressing and retiring rooms, and whose entrances were cleverly screened by a row of thick spruce trees set up

"This is better," said Hugh, drawing a deep breath. "Shall we sit a bit and rest?"

"Oh, do let us," said Adrien. "This has been a strenuous and exciting evening. I really feel quite done out.

"Shall I bring you a glass of water or an ice, Adrien?" inquired Hugh, noting the pallor in her face.

"Thank you. A glass of water, if you will be so kind. How deliciously fragrant that spruce is."

As her partner set off upon his errand, Adrien stepped to the spruce tree which screened the open door of the

room opposite, and taking the bosky branches in her hands, she thrust her face into the aromatic foliage.

Suddenly, as if stabbed by a spine in the trees, she started back and stood gazing through the thick branches

into the room beyond There stood Maitland and Annette, the girl, with her face tearfully pale and pleading,

uplifted to his and with her hands gripped tight and held fast in his, clasped against his breast. More plainly

than words her face, her eyes, her attitude told her tale. She was pouring out her very soul to him in entreaty,

Swiftly Adrien stepped back from the screening tree, her face white as if from a stunning blow, her heartbeats

checking her breath. Quickly, blindly, she ran down the corridor. At the very end she met Hugh with a glass

"What is the matter, Adrien? Have you seen a ghost?" he cried in an anxious voice.

She caught the glass from his hand and began to drink, at first greedily, then more slowly.

"Ah!" she said, drawing a deep breath. "That is good. Do you know, I was almost overcome. The air of that

room is quite deadly. Now I am all right. Let us get a breath from the outside, Hugh."

Taking him by the arm, she hastened him to the farther end of the corridor and opened the door. "Oh,

"How wonderful the night is, Hugh." She leaned far out, "and the snow was like a cloth of silver and

diamonds in this glorious moon." She stooped, and from a gleaming bank beside the door she caught up a

double handful of the snow and, packing it into a little ball, flung it at her partner, catching him fairly on the

"Aha!" she cried. "Don't ever say a woman is a poor shot. Now then," she added, stamping her feet free from

the clinging flakes and waving her hands in the air to dry them, "I feel fit for anything. Let us have one more

"You surely do look fit," said Hugh, beaming at her with frank admiration. "But you were all in a few

"Come along. There is a way into the hall by this door," she cried, catching his hand and hurrying him into

At the conclusion of their dance they came upon Patricia near the main entrance, in great distress. "I have not

seen Captain Jack anywhere," she lamented. "Have you, Adrien? I have just sent Vic for a final search. I

"Never mind, dear," said Adrien. "He has many duties tonight with all these players to look after. I think we

had better go whenever Vic returns. I am awfully sorry for you, Patricia," she added. "No! Don't! You simply

must not cry here." She put her arm around her sister's shoulder, her own lips trembling, and drew her close.

That young man, however, was having his own trials. In his search for Maitland he ran across McNish, whom

"Oh!" said Vic, somewhat abashed. "I saw you dance with Annette with Miss Perrotteand I thought

Then with a single stride McNish was close at his side, gripping his arm with fingers that seemed to reach the

"Ye're a friend o' his. Let me say tae ye if ony ill cames tae her, by the leevin' God above us he wull answer

tae me." Hoarse, panting, his face that of a maniac, he stood glaring wildeyed at the young man before him.

To say that Vic was shaken by this sudden and violent onslaught would be much within the truth.

"Look here! I don't know who you are or what you mean," he said, in as steady tones as he could summon,

"but if you suggest that any girl will come to harm from Captain Maitland, then I say you are a liar and a

fool." So speaking, little Vic set himself for the rush which he was firmly convinced would come. McNish,

however, stood still, fighting for control. Then, between his deepdrawn breaths, he slowly spoke:

"Ye may be richt. A hope tae God A am baith liar and fule." The agony in his face moved Vic to pity.

"I say, old chap," he said, "you are terribly mistaken somehow, I can swear to that. Where is Maitland,

"They went away together." McNish had suddenly gotten himself in hand. "They went away in his car,

"Secretly," said Vic, scornfully. "Now, that is perfect rot. Look here, do you know Captain Maitland? I am

his friend, and let me tell you that all I ever hope to own, here and hereafter, and all my relatives and friends,

"Maybe, maybe," muttered McNish. "Ye may be richt. A apologise, sir, but if" His eyes blazed again.

Vic turned on his heel and left McNish standing in a dull and dazed condition, and made his way toward the

"Who is the Johnny, anyway?" he said to himself. "He is mad looneyutterly bughouse. Needs a keeper

in the worst way. But what about the Captainmust think up something. Let's see. Taken suddenly ill?

Hardlythere is the girl to account for. Her mothergrandmotheror somethingstrickenlet's see.

Annette has a brotherBy Jove! the very thingI've got itbrother met with an accidentrun overfell

down a wellanything. Hurry callambulance stuff. Good line. Needs working up a bit, though. What has

happened to my grey matter? Let me think. Ah, yeswhen that Johnny brought word of an accident, a

serious accident to her brother, Maitland, naturally enough, the gallant soul, hurries her off in his car, sending

Vic went to the outer door, feeling the necessity for a somewhat careful conning of his tale to give it, as he

said himself, a little artistic verisimilitude. Then, with his lessonas he thoughtwell learned, and praying

"If only Patricia will keep out of it," he said to himself as he neared the hall door, "or if I could only catch old

Hugh first. But he is not much of a help in this sort of thing. Dash it all! I am quite nervous. This will never

do. Must find a waygood effectcool and collected stuff." So, ruminating and praying and moving ever

more slowly, he reached the door. Coming in sight of his party, he hurried to meet them. "Awfully sorry!" he

exclaimed excitedly. "The most rotten luck! Old Maitland's just been called off."

"Now, don't jump at me like that. Remember my heart. Met that Johnnythe big chap dancing with Annette,

you knowjust met him quite worked upa hurry call for the girlfor the girl, Annette, you know."

"I know! I know!" replied Vic, somewhat impatiently. "I am a bit excited, I confess. Rather nasty

thingAnnette's brother, you knowsomething wrongaccident, I think. Couldn't get the particulars."

"Exactly!" cried Vic. "That is what I have been telling you. A hurry callphone message for

Annettehorrible accident. Maitland rushed her right away in his car to catch the midnight to Toronto."

"By Jove! That is too bad," said Hugh, a genuine sympathy in his honest voice. "That is hard luck on poor

"Killed! Not a bit of it," said Vic cheerfully. "Slight injury but serious, I mean. You know, just enough to

cause anxiety." Vic lit another cigarette with ostentatious deliberation. "Nasty shock, you know," he said.

Vic said: "Eh! What? You know, thatahrbig chap who was falling over her in the fox trot. Looked kind

"Oh, I fancy about there, somewhere," replied Vic, remembering that he had seen McNish moving toward the

door. "Better go and look him up and get more particulars. Might help some, you know."

"Oh, Adrien, let us go to her," said Patricia. "I am sure Annette would love to have you. Poor Annette!"

"Oh! I say!" interposed Vic hurriedly. "There is really no necessity. I shouldn't like to intrude in family affairs

Adrien's grave, quiet eyes were upon Vic's face. "You think we had better not go, then," she said slowly.

"Sure thing!" replied Vic, with cheerful optimism. "There is no necessityslight accidentno need to make

"Oh, now, Patricia, come out of it. You check a fellow up so hard. Can't you understand the Johnny was so

deucedly worked up over it he couldn't give me the right of it. Dash it all! Let's have another turn, Patricia!"

"Very well, if you think so, Adrien. I don't fancy you need worry over Annette. The accident probably is

"Exactly!" exclaimed Vic. "Just as I have been telling you. Serious, but not dangerous. At least, that was the

"Oh, Vic, you are so terribly confusing!" exclaimed Patricia. "Why can't you get things straight? I say,

Adrien, we can ride round to Annette's on our way home, and then we will get things quite clearly."

"Certainly," said Hugh. "It will only take us a minute. Eh, what!" he added to Vic, who was making frantic

"But I am so disappointed," said Patricia to Adrien, as they went to their dressing room together.

After they had gone, Hugh turned upon Vic: "Now then, what the deuce and all are you driving at?"

"Driving at!" cried Vic, in an exasperated tone. "You are a sweet support for a fellow in distress. I am a

nervous wrecka perfect mess. Another word from that kid and I should have run screaming into the night.

"Help you out? How in the name of all that is reasonable could I help you out? What is all the yarn about? Of

"Search me," said Vic. "All I know is that I hit upon that Scotch Johnny out in the hallhe nearly wrenched

an arm off me and did everything but bitespitting out incoherent gaspings indicating that Maitland had

'gone awa' wi' his gurrl, confound him!' and suggesting the usual young Lochinvar stuff. You

knownothing in it, of course. But what was I to do? Some tale was necessary! Fortunately or unfortunately,

brother Tony sprang to the thing I call my mind andwell, you know the mess I made of it. But Hugh,

remember, for heaven's sake, make talk about somethingabout the matchand get that girl quietly home. I

bag the back seat and Adrien. It is hard on me, I know, but fifteen minutes more of Patsy and I shall be

counting my tootsies and prattling nursery rhymes. Here they come," he breathed. "Now, 'a little forlorn hope,

And with commendable enthusiasm and success, Hugh played up, supportedas far as his physical and

mental condition allowedby the enfeebled Vic, till they had safely deposited their charges at the Rectory

door, whence, refusing an invitation to stop for cocoa, they took their homeward way.

"'And from famine, pestilence and sudden death,' and from the once over by that penetrating young female,

'good Lord, deliver us,'" murmured Vic, falling into the seat beside his friend. "Take me home to mother," he

added, and refused further speech till at his own door. He waved a weak adieu and staggered feebly into the

Grant Maitland sat in his office, plainly disturbed in his mind. His resolute face, usually reflecting the mental

repose which arises from the consciousness of a strength adequate to any emergency, carried lines which

revealed a mind which had lost its poise. Reports from his foremen indicated brooding trouble, and this his

own observation within the last few weeks confirmed. Production was noticeably falling low. The attitude of

the workers suggested suspicion and discontent. That fine glow of comradeship which had been characteristic

of all workers in the Maitland Mills had given place to a sullen aloofness and a shiftiness of eye that all too

During the days immediately preceding and following the Great Match, there had been a return of that frank

and open bearing that had characterised the employees of the Maitland Mills in the old days, but that fleeting

gleam of sunshine had faded out and the old grey shadow of suspicion, of discontent, had fallen again. To

Maitland this attitude brought a disappointment and a resentment which sensibly added to his burden, already

heavy enough in these days of weakening markets and falling prices. In his time he had come through periods

of financial depression. He was prepared for one such period now, but he had never passed through the

unhappy experience of a conflict with his own employees. Not that he had ever feared a fight, but he shrank

from a fight with his own men. It humiliated him. He felt it to be a reflection upon his system of

management, upon his ability to lead and control, indeed, upon his personality. But, more than all, it grieved

him to feel that he had lost that sense of comradeship which for forty years he had been able to preserve with

A sense of loneliness fell upon him. Like many a man, selfmade and selfsufficing, he craved

companionship which his characteristic qualities of independence and strength seemed to render unnecessary

and undesired. The experience of all leaders of men was his, for the leader is ever a lonely man.

This morning the reports he had just received convinced him that a strike with his workers would not long be

delayed. "If I only knew what they really wanted," he bitterly mused. "It cannot be wages. Their wages are

two or three times what they were before the war shop conditions are all that could be desiredthe Lord

knows I have spent enough in this welfare stuff and all that sort of thing during these hard times. I have heard

of no real grievances. I am sick of it all. I guess I am growing too old for this sort of thing."

"Well," replied his father with a keen look at him, "I think I may return the compliment."

"All I can carry," echoed Maitland, picking up the reports from his desk and handing them to his son, who

glanced over them. "Things are not going well at the mills. No, you needn't tell me. You know I never ask

"Well, I must confess this is beyond me. Everywhere on the men's faces I catch that beastly look of distrust

and suspicion. I hate to work with men like that. And very obviously, trouble is brewing, but what it is,

"Well, it is hardly a secret any longer," said Jack. "Trouble is coming, Dad, though what form it shall take I

am not in a position to say. Union discipline is a fierce thing. The rank and file are not taken into the

confidence of the leaders. Policies are decided upon in the secret councils of the Great Ones and handed

down to us to adopt. Of course, it is open to any man to criticise, and I am bound to say that the rankers

exercise that privilege with considerable zest. All the same, however, it is difficult to overturn an

administration, hard to upset established order. The thing that is, is the thing that ought to be. Rejection of an

"Well," said his father, taking the sheets from Jack's hand, "we needn't go to meet the trouble. Now, let us

"Tony?" echoed his father in dismay. "Heaven help us! And what now has come to Tony? Though I must

"It is a long story, Dad, and I shan't worry you with the details. As you know, after leaving us, Tony went

from one job to another with the curve steadily downwards. For the last few months, I gather, he has been

living on his wits, helped out by generous contributions from his sister's wages. Finally he was given a

subordinate position under "The Great War Veterans" who have really been very decent to him. This position

involved the handling of fundsno great amount. Then it was the old storygambling and drinkingthe

loss of all controldesperate straitshoping to recoup his lossesand you know the rest."

"Yes, embezzlement," said Jack. "Tony is not a thief. He didn't deliberately steal, you understand."

"Jack," said his father, sharply, "get that out of your head. There is no such distinction in law or in fact.

Stealing is stealing, whatever the motive behind it, whatever the plan governing it, by whatever name called."

"I didn't really mean anything else, Dad. Tony did the thing, at any rate, and the cops were on his trail. He got

into hiding, sent an S. O. S. to his sister. Annette, driven to desperation, came to me with her story the night

of the Match. She was awfully cut up, poor girl. I had to leave the dance and go right off to Toronto. Too late

for the train, I drove straight through,ghastly roads, found Tony, fetched him back, and up till yesterday

he has been hiding in his own home. Meantime, I managed to get things fixed uppaid his debts, the

prosecution is withdrawn and now he wants, or, rather, he doesn't want but needs, a job."

Maitland listened with a grave face. "Then the little girl was right, after all," he said.

"Patricia," said his father. "She told me a long story of a terrible accident to Tony that had called you away to

"But who told her? I swear not a soul knew but his people and myself," said Jack.

"But," said Maitland, desperately, "where can we place him? He is impossible in any positiondangerous in

"One thing is quite certain," said Jack decidedly, "he must be under discipline. He is useless on his own. I

thought that perhaps he might work beside me. I could keep an eye on him. Tony has nothing in him to work

with. I should like to hear old Matheson on himthe Reverend Murdo, I mean. That is a great theme of

"A very decent sort, father," replied Jack. "I have been doing a little economics with him during the winter.

His radicalism is of a sound type, I think. He is a regular bear at economics and he is even better at the

"I can guess what you mean," said his father, "though I don't quite catch on to all your jargon. But I confess

that I suspect there is a whole lot of nonsense associated with these theories."

"You will pardon me, Dad," said Jack, "if I suggest that your education is really not yet complete."

"But about Tony," continued Jack, "I wish I had him in a gang under me. I would work him, or break his

His father sat silently pondering for some minutes. Then, as if making a sudden resolve, he said: "Jack, I have

been wanting to speak with you about something for some weeks. I have come to a place where it is

imperative that I get some relief from my load. You see, I am carrying the whole burden of management

practically alone. I look after the financing, the markets, I keep an eye on production and even upon the

factory management. In normal conditions I could manage to get along, but in these critical days, when every

department calls for close, constant and sane supervision, I feel that I must have relief. If I could be relieved

of the job of shop management, I could give myself to the other departments where the situation at present is

extremely critical. I want a manager, Jack. Why not take the job? Now," he continued, holding up his hand,

as his son was about to speak, "listen for a moment or two. I have said the situation is serious. Let me explain

that. The financing of this business in the present crisis requires a man's full time and energy. Markets,

Jack glanced at his father's face. For the first time he noticed how deepcut were the lines that indicated care,

Maitland waved his hand as if dismissing the suggestion. "Now you know nothing of the financial side, but

you do know men and you can handle them. You proved that in the war, and, in another way, you proved that

during this recent athletic contest. I followed that very closely and I say without hesitation that it was a

remarkably fine bit of work and the reactions were of the best. Jack, I believe that you would make a great

manager if you gave yourself to it, and thought it worth while. Now, listen to me." Thereupon the father

proceeded to lay before his son the immediately pressing problems in the businessthe financial obligations

already assumed, the heavy accumulation of stock for which there were no markets, the increasing costs in

production with no hope of relief, but rather every expectation of added burdens in this direction.

As he listened to his father, Jack was appalled with what he considered the overwhelmingly disastrous

situation in which the business was placed. At the same time he saw his father in a new light. This silent,

stern, reserved man assumed a role of hero in his eyes, facing desperate odds and silently fighting a lonely

and doubtful battle. The son was smitten with a sense of his own futility. In him was born a desire and a

resolve to stand beside his father in this conflict and if the battle went against them, to share in the defeat.

"Dad," cried his son impulsively, "I am a rotter. I have been of no help to you, but only a burden. I had no

"Don't misunderstand me," said his father. "This is new to you and appears more serious than it is. There is

really no ground, or little ground, for anxiety or alarm. Let me give you the other side." Then he proceeded to

set forth the resources of the business, the extent of his credit, his plans to meet the present situation and to

prepare for possible emergencies. "We are not at the wall yet, by any means, Jack," he said, his voice ringing

out with a resolute courage. "But I am bound to say that if any sudden or untoward combination of

Jack's heart sank still lower. He was practically certain that a strike was imminent. Although without any

official confirmation of his suspicions, he had kept his eyes and ears opened and he was convinced that

trouble was unavoidable. As his father continued to set forth his plans, his admiration for him grew. He

brought to bear upon the problems with which he was grappling a clear head, wide knowledge and steady

courage. He was a general, planning a campaign in the face of serious odds. He recalled a saying of his old

CommanderinChief in France: "War is a business and will be won by the application of business principles

and business methods. Given a body of fighting men such as I command, the thing becomes a problem of

transportation, organization, reserve, insurance. War is a business and will be won by fighting men directed

or governed by business principles." He was filled with regret that he had not given himself more during

these last months to the study of these principles. The prospect of a fight against impending disaster touched

"I see what you want, father," he said. "You want to have some good N. C. O.'s. The N. C. O. is the backbone

"N. C. O?" echoed his father. He was not sufficiently versed in military affairs to catch the full meaning of

"What I mean is," said Jack, "that no matter how able a military commander is, he must have efficient

His father nodded: "You've got it, Jack. I want a manager to whom I can entrust a policy without ever having

to think of it again. I don't want a man who gets on top of the load, but one who gets under it."

"I suppose so," said the father, "although your military terms are a little beyond me. After all, the thing is

simple enough. On the management side, we want increase in production, which means decrease in

production costs, and this means better organization of the work and the workers."

"Team play," said Jack. "That is my specialty, you know. Individualism in a game may be spectacularly

"Team play," said his father. "Cooperation, I suppose you mean. My dear boy, this is no time for

experimentation in profitsharing schemes, if that is what you are after. Anyway, the history of profiteering

schemes as I have read it is not such as to warrant entire confidence in their soundness. You cannot change

"That is true enough, Dad," said his son, "and perhaps I am a fool. But I remember, and you remember, what

everybody said, and especially what the experts said, about the military methods and tactics before the war.

You say you cannot change the economic system overnight, and yet the whole military system was changed

practically overnight. In almost every particular, there was a complete revolution. Cavalry, fortress defences,

high explosives, the proper place for machine guns, field tactics, in fact, the whole business was radically

changed. And if we hadn't changed, they would be speaking German in the schools of England, like enough,

"Jack, you may be right," said his father, with a touch of impatience, "but I don't want to be worried just now.

It is easy enough for your friend, Matheson, and other academic industrial directors, to suggest experiments

with other people's money. If we could only get production, I would not mind very much what wages we had

to pay. But I confess when industrial strife is added to my other burdens, it is almost more than I can bear."

"I am awfully sorry, Dad," replied his son. "I have no wish to worry you, but how are you going to get

production? Everybody says it has fallen off terribly during and since the war. How are you going to bring it

up? Not by the pay envelope, I venture to say, and that is why I suggested team play. And I am not thinking

about cooperative schemes of management, either. Some way must be found to interest the fellows in their

job, in the work itself, as distinct from the financial returns. Unless the chaps are interested in the game, they

"My boy," said his father wearily, "that old interest in work is gone. That old pride in work which we used to

feel when I was at the job myself, is gone. We have a different kind of workman nowadays."

"Dad, don't believe that," said Jack. "Remember the same thing was said before the war. We used to hear all

about that decadent race stuff. The war proved it to be all rot. The race is as fine as ever it was. Our history

"You may be right," said his father. "If we could only get rid of these cursed agitators."

"There again, Dad, if you will excuse me, I believe you are mistaken. I have been working with these men for

the last nine months, I have attended very regularly the meetings of their unions and I have studied the whole

situation with great care. The union is a great institution. I am for it heart and soul. It is soundly and solidly

democratic, and the agitators cut very little figure. I size up the whole lot about this way: Fifty per cent of the

men are steadygoing fellows with ambition to climb; twentyfive per cent are content to grub along for the

day's pay and with no great ambition worrying them. Of the remainder, ten per cent are sincere and convinced

reformers, more or less halfbaked intellectuals; ten per cent love the sound of their own voices, hate work

and want to live by their jaw, five per cent only are unscrupulous and selfish agitators. But, Dad, believe me,

firebrands may light fires, but solid fagots only can keep fires going. You cannot make conflagrations out of

"Well, I own up. I have got a lot of stuff from Matheson. All the same I believe I have fairly sized up the

"Boy, boy," said his father, "I am tired of it all. I believe with some team play you and I could make it go.

There was silence between them for a few minutes. Then Jack answered slowly: "I am not sure of myself at

all, Dad, but I can see you must have someone and I am willing to try the planing mill."

"Thank you, boy," said his father, stretching his hand quickly across the table, "I will back you up and won't

"I know you will, Dad," said Jack, "and of course I have been in the army long enough to know the difference

"Now, what about Tony?" inquired Maitland, reverting suddenly to what both felt to be a painful and

"I see no other way," Jack replied. "I will give him a trial. Shall I bring him in?"

In a minute or two Jack returned with Tony. As Maitland's eyes fell upon him, he could not prevent a start of

"Why, Tony!" he exclaimed. "What in all the world is wrong with you? You are ill." Trembling, pale,

obviously unstrung, Tony stood before him, his shifty eyes darting now at one face, then at the other, his

hands restless, his whole appearance suggesting an imminent nervous collapse. "Why, Tony, boy, what is

wrong with you?" repeated Maitland. The kindly tone proved too much for Tony's selfcontrol. He gulped,

But Jack said, "He doesn't need a chair. He is not here for a visit. You wanted to say something to him, did

you not?" Jack's dry, matteroffact and slightly contemptuous tone had an instant and extraordinary effect

Instantly, Tony stiffened up. His head went back, he cast a swift glance at Jack's face, whose smile, slightly

quizzical, slightly contemptuous, appeared to bite into his vitals. A hot flame of colour swept his pale and

"I want a job, sir," he said, in a tone low and fierce, looking straight at Mr. Maitland.

Maitland, taking his cue from his son, replied in a quiet voice: "Can you hold a job?"

Tony stood for a few moments saying nothing, darting uncertain glances now and then at Jack, on whose face

"If you want work," continued Mr. Maitland, "and want to make it go, Tony, you can go with Jack. He will

"Jack!" exclaimed Tony. His face was a study. Uncertainty, fear, hope, disappointment were all there.

Tony threw back his head and laughed. "I guess I will have to work, then," he said.

"I am taking you home. See you tonight, sir," Jack added, nodding to his father.

"My job? What do you mean by that?" asked Tony, bitter and sullen in face and tone.

"I am the new manager of the planing mill. Dad had you slated for that position, but you hadn't

Again Tony swore but kept silence, and so remained till they had reached his home. Together they walked

into the living room. There they found Annette, and with her McNish. Both rose upon their entrance, McNish

showing some slight confusion, and assuming the attitude of a bulldog on guard, Annette vividly eager,

For a moment the others stood looking at Jack, surprised into motionless silence.

"What does he mean, Jack?" cried the girl, coming forward to Maitland with a quick, impulsive movement.

"Just what he says, Annette. I am the new manager of the planing mill and I have given Tony a job."

Again there fell a silence. Into the eyes of the bulldog McNish there shot a strange gleam of something that

seemed almost like pleasure. In those brief moments of silence life was readjusting itself with them all.

Maitland had passed from the rank and file of the workers into the class of those who direct and control their

work. Bred as they were and trained as they were in the democratic atmosphere of Canada, they were

Annette was the first to break silence. "I wish I could thank you," she said, "but I cannot. I cannot." The girl's

face had changed. The eager light had faded from her dark eyes, her hands dropped quietly to her side. "But I

am sure you know," she added after a pause, "how very, very grateful I am, how grateful we all are, Mr.

"Annette," said Jack severely, "drop that 'Mr.' stuff. I was your friend yesterday. Am I any less your friend

today? True enough, I am Tony's boss, but Tony is my friendthat is, if he wants to have it so. You must

He offered her his hand. With a sudden impulse she took it in both of hers and held it hard against her breast,

her eyes meanwhile burning into his with a look of adoration, open and unashamed. She apparently forgot the

"Jack," she cried, her voice thrilling with passion, "I don't care what you are. I don't care what you think. I

Maitland flung a swift glance at McNish and was startled at the look of rage, of agonised rage, that convulsed

"My dear Annette," he said, with a light laugh, "don't make too much of it. I was glad to help Tony and you.

As he was speaking they heard the sound of a door closing and looking about, Jack found that McNish had

"Oh, never mind him," cried Annette, answering Jack's look of surprise. "He has to go to work. And it doesn't

"What?" She leaned toward him, her face all glowing with warm and eager light, her eyes aflame, her bosom

He put out his hands. With a quick, light step she was close to him, her face lifted up in passionate surrender.

"Annette, dear," he said, and his voice was quiet and kind, too kind. "You are a dear girl and a good girl, and

The door opened and Tony slipped into the room. With passionate violence, Annette threw away the

"Ah!" she cried, a sob catching her voice. "Youyou shame me. NoI shame myself." Rigid, with head

flung back, she stood before him, her eyes ablaze with passionate anger, her hands clenched tight. She had

"What the devil is this?" cried Tony, striding toward them. "What is he doing to you, Annette?"

"He?" cried Annette, her breath coming in sobs. "To me? Nothing! Keep out of it, Tony." She pushed him

fiercely aside. "He has done nothing! No! No! Nothing but what is good and kind. Ah! kind. Yes, kind." Her

voice rose shrill in scorn of herself and of him. "Oh, yes, he is kind." She laughed wildly, then broke into

passionate tears. She turned from them and fled to her room, leaving the two men looking at each other.

"Poor child," said Jack, the first to recover speech. "She is quite all in. She has had two hard weeks of it."

"Two hard weeks," repeated Tony, his eyes glaring. "What is the matter with my sister? What have you done

"Don't be a confounded fool, Tony," replied Jack. "You ought to know what is the matter with your sister.

You have had something to do with it. And now your job is to see if you can make it up to her. Tomorrow

morning, at seven o'clock, remember," he said curtly, and, turning on his heel, he passed out.

It seemed to Jack as he drove home that life had suddenly become a tangle of perplexities and complications.

First there was Annette. He was genuinely distressed as he thought of the scene through which they had just

passed. That he himself had anything to do with her state of mind did not occur to him.

"Poor little girl," he said to himself, "she really needs a change of some sort, a complete rest. We must find

some way of helping her. She will be all right in a day or two." With which he dismissed the subject.

Then there was McNish. McNish was a sore puzzle to him. He had come to regard the Scotchman with a

feeling of sincere friendliness. He remembered gratefully his ready and efficient help against the attacks of

the radical element among his fellow workmen. On several occasions he, with the Reverend Murdo

Matheson, had foregathered in the McNish home to discuss economic problems over a quiet pipe. He was

always conscious of a reserve deepening at times to a sullenness in McNish's manner, the cause of which he

could not certainly discover. That McNish was possessed of a mentality of more than ordinary power there

was no manner of doubt. Jack had often listened with amazement to his argumentation with the Reverend

Murdo, against whom he proved over and over again his ability to hold his own, the minister's superiority as

a trained logician being more than counterbalanced by his antagonist's practical experience.

As he thought of these evenings, he was ready to believe that his suspicion of the Scotchman's illwill toward

himself was due largely to imagination, and yet he could not rid himself of the unpleasant memory of

"It can't be," he added, "surely the idiot is not jealous." Then he remembered Annette's attitude at the

moment, her hands pressing his hard to her breast, her face lifted up in something more than appeal. "By

Jove! I believe that may be it," he mused. "And Annette? Had she observed it? What was in her heart? Was

This thought disturbed him greatly. He was not possessed of a larger measure of selfconceit than falls to the

lot of the average young man, but the thought that possibly Annette had come to regard him other than as a

friend released a new tide of emotion within him. Rapidly he passed in review many incidents in their

association during the months since he returned from the war, and gradually the conviction forced itself upon

him that possibly McNish was not without some cause for jealousy. It was rotten luck and was bound to

interfere with their present happy relations. Yet none the less was he conscious that it was not altogether an

unpleasant thought to him that in some subtle way a new bond had been established between this charming

But he must straighten things out with McNish at the very first opportunity. He was a decent chap and would

make Annette a first rate husband. Indeed, it pleased Jack not a little to feel that he would be able to further

the fortunes of both. McNish had good foreman timber in him and would make a capable assistant. As to this

silly prejudice of his, Jack resolved that he would take steps immediately to have that removed. That he could

But the most acutely pressing of the problems that engaged his mind were those that arose out of his new

position as manager. The mere organizing and directing of men in their work gave him little anxiety. He was

sure of himself as far as that was concerned. He was sure of his ability to introduce among the men a system

of team play that would result in increased production and would induce altogether better results. He thought

he knew where the weak spots were. He counted greatly upon the support of the men who had been

associated with him in the Maitland Mills Athletic Association. With their backing, he was certain that he

could eliminate most of that very considerable wastage in time that even a cursory observation had revealed

to him in the shops, due to such causes as dilatory workers, idle machines, lack of coordination, improper

routing of work, and the like. He had the suspicion that a little investigation would reveal other causes of

There was one feature in the situation that gave him concern and that was the radical element in the unions.

Simmons and his gang had from the very first assumed an attitude of hostility to himself, had sought to

undermine his influence and had fought his plans for the promotion of clean sport among the Mill men. None

knew better than Simmons that an active interest in clean and vigorous outdoor sports tended to produce

contentment of mind, and a contented body of men offered unfertile soil for radical and socialistic doctrines.

Hence, Simmons had from the first openly and vociferously opposed with contemptuous and bitter

indignation all Jack's schemes and plans for the promotion of athletic sports. But Jack had been able to carry

the men with him and the recent splendid victory over a famous team had done much to discredit brother

Already Jack was planning a new schedule of games for the summer. Baseball, football, cricket, would give

occupation and interest to all classes of Mill workers. And in his new position he felt he might be able, to an

even greater degree, to carry out the plans which he had in mind. On the other hand, he knew full well that

men were apt to be suspicious of welfare schemes "promoted from above." His own hockey men he felt sure

he could carry with him. If he could only win McNish to be his sergeantmajor, success would be assured.

He well knew that McNish had no love for Simmons, whom the Scotchman despised first, because he was no

craftsman, and chiefly because he had no soundlybased system of economics but was governed by the

sheerest opportunism in all his activities. A combination between McNish and Simmons might create a

situation not easy to deal with. Jack resolved that that combination should be prevented. He would see

McNish at once, after the meeting of his local, which he remembered was set for that very night.

This matter being settled, he determined to proceed immediately to the office for an interview with Wickes.

He must get to know as speedily as possible something of the shop organization and of its effect upon

production. He found Mr. Wickes awaiting him with tremulous and exultant delight, eager to put himself, his

experience, his knowledge and all that he possessed at the disposal of the new manager. The whole afternoon

was given to this work, and before the day was done, Jack had in his mind a complete picture of the planing

mill, with every machine in place and an estimate, more or less exact, of the capacity of every machine. In the

course of this investigation, he was surprised to discover that there was no detailed record of the actual

production of each machine, nor, indeed, anything in the way of an accurate cost system in any department of

"Well, they are always about, Mr. Jack, and keep their eyes on things generally."

"Well, sir, we have never gone into details, you know, Mr. Jack, but if you wish"

"Oh, no, Wickes, I am just trying to get the hang of things, you know." Jack was unwilling to even suggest a

criticism of method at so early a stage in his managerial career. "I want to know how you run things, Wickes,

The old bookkeeper hastened to give him almost tearful assurance of his desire to assist to the utmost of his

The meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union was largely attended, a special whip having been sent

out asking for a full meeting on the ground that a matter of vital importance to unionised labour was to be

The matter of importance turned out to be nothing less than a proposition that the Woodworkers' Union

should join with all other unions in the town to make a united demand upon their respective employers for an

increase in wages and better conditions all around, in connection with their various industries. The question

was brought up in the form of a resolution from their executive, which strongly urged that this demand

should be approved and that a joint committee should be appointed to take steps for the enforcement of the

demand. The executive had matters thoroughly in hand. Brother Simmons and the more radical element were

kept to the background, the speakers chosen to present the case being all moderates. There was no suggestion

of extreme measures. Their demands were reasonable, and it was believed that the employers were prepared

to give fair considerationindeed, members had had assurance from an authoritative quarter on the other

Notwithstanding the moderate tone adopted in presenting it, the resolution met with strenuous opposition.

The great majority of those present were quiet, steadygoing men who wanted chiefly to be let alone at their

work and who were hostile to the suggested action, which might finally land them in "trouble." The oldtime

workers in the Maitland Mills had no grievances against their employer. They, of course, would gladly accept

an increase in wages, for the cost of living was steadily climbing, but they disliked intensely the proposed

method of making a general demand for an increase in wages and for better conditions.

The sporting element in the meeting were frankly and fiercely antagonistic to anything that would disturb the

present friendly relation with their employers in the Maitland Mills. "The old man" had always done the

square thing. He had shown himself a "regular fellow" in backing them up in all their games during the past

year. He had always given them a fair hearing and a square deal. They would not stand for any holdup game

The promoters of the resolution began to be anxious for their cause. They had not anticipated any such a

strong opposition and were rather nonplussed as to the next move. Brother Simmons was in a fury and was on

the point of breaking forth into a passionate denunciation of scabs and traitors generally when, to the

amazement of all and the intense delight of the supporters of the administration, McNish arose and gave

His speech was a masterpiece of diplomacy, and revealed his long practice in the art of oratory in that best of

all training schools, the labour union of the Old Land. He began by expressing entire sympathy with the spirit

of the opposition. The opposition, however, had completely misunderstood the intent and purport of the

resolution. None of them desired trouble. There need not be, indeed, he hoped there would not be trouble, but

there were certain very ugly facts that must be faced. He then, in terse, forceful language, presented the facts

in connection with the cost of living, quoting statistics from the Department of Labour to show the steady rise

in the price of articles of food, fuel and clothing since the beginning of the war, a truly appalling array. He

had secured price lists from dealers in these commodities, both wholesale and retail, to show the enormous

profits made during the war. There were returned soldiers present. They had not hesitated at the call of duty

to give all they had for their country. They had been promised great things when they had left their homes,

their families, their business and their jobs. How had they found things upon their return? He illustrated his

argument from the cases of men present. It was a sore spot with many of them and he pressed hard upon it.

They were suffering today; worse, their wives and children were suffering. Had anyone heard of their

employers suffering? Here again he offered illustrations of men who had made a good thing out of the war.

True, there were many examples of the other kind of employer, but they must deal with classes and not

individuals in a case like this. This was part of a much bigger thing than any mere local issue. He drew upon

his experience in the homeland with overwhelming effect. His voice rose and rolled in his richest Doric as he

passionately denounced the tyranny of the masters in the coal and iron industries in the homeland. He was not

an extremist; he had never been one. Indeed, all who knew him would bear him out when he said that he had

been an opponent of Brother Simmons and those who thought with him on economic questions. This sudden

change in attitude would doubtless surprise his brothers. He had been forced to change by the stern logic of

facts. There was nothing in this resolution which any reasonable worker might object to. There was nothing

in the resolution that every worker with any sympathy with his fellow workers should not support. Moreover,

he warned them that if they presented a united front, there would be little fear of trouble. If they were divided

in their ranks, or if they were halfhearted in their demands, they would invite opposition and, therefore,

trouble. He asked them all to stand together in supporting a reasonable demand, which he felt sure reasonable

The effect of his speech was overwhelming. The administration supporters were exuberant in their

enthusiastic applause and in their vociferous demands for a vote. The opposition were paralysed by the

desertion of one whom they had regarded and trusted as a leader against the radical element and were left

without answer to the masterly array of facts and arguments which he had presented.

At this point, the door opened and Maitland walked in. A few moments of tense silence, and then something

seemed to snap. The opposition, led by the hockey men and their supporters, burst into a demonstration of

welcome. The violence of the demonstration was not solely upon Maitland's account. The leaders of the

opposition were quick to realise that his entrance had created a diversion for them which might save them

from disastrous defeat. They made the most of this opportunity, prolonging the demonstration and joining in

a "chair procession" which carried Maitland shoulderhigh about the room, in the teeth of the violent protest

Order being restored, business was again resumed, when Brother Macnamara rose to his feet and, in a speech

incoherent at times, but always forceful, proposed that the usual order be suspended and that here and now a

motion be carried expressing their gratification at the recent great hockey victory and referring in highly

laudatory terms to the splendid work of Brother Captain Maitland, to whose splendid efforts victory was

It was in vain that Brother Simmons and those of his way of thinking sought to stem the tide of disorder. The

No sooner had this matter been disposed of than Maitland rose to his feet and said:

"Mr. President, I wish to thank you all for this very kind reference to my team and myself. I take very little

credit for the victory which we won. We had a good team, indeed, quite a remarkable team. I have played in a

good many athletic teams of various kinds, but in two particulars the Maitland Mills Hockey Team is the

most remarkable of any I have knownfirst, in their splendid loyalty in taking their training and sticking

together; that was beyond all praise; and, secondly, in the splendid grit which they showed in playing a losing

game. Now, Mr. President, I am going to do something which gives me more regret than any of you can

understand. I have to offer my resignation as a member of this union. I have accepted the position of manager

of the planing mill and I understand that this makes it necessary that I resign as a member of this union. I

don't really see why this should be necessary. I don't believe myself that it should, and, brothers, I expect to

live long enough to belong to a union that will allow a fellow like me to be a member with chaps like you.

But meantime, for the present I must resign. You have treated me like a brother and a chum. I have learned a

lot from you all, but one thing especially, which I shall never forget: that there is no real difference in men

that is due to their position in life; that a man's job doesn't change his heart."

He paused for a few moments as if to gather command of his voice, which had become suddenly husky.

"I am sorry to leave you, boys, and I want to say to you from my heart that though I cannot remain a member

of this union, I can be and I will be a brother to you all the same. And I promise you that, as far as I can, I

McNish alone was prepared for this dramatic announcement, although they all knew that Maitland sooner or

later would assume a position which would link him up with the management of the business. But the

suddenness of the change and the dramatic setting of the announcement created an impression so profound as

Disappointed and enraged at the sudden turn of events, he was too good a general to allow himself to be

routed in disorder. He set about to gather his disordered forces for a fresh attack, when once more the hockey

men took command of the field. This time it was Snoopy Sykes, the most voiceless member of the union.

After a few moments of dazed silence that followed Maitland's announcement of his resignation, Snoopy rose

and, encouraged by the cheers of his astonished comrades, began the maiden speech of his life.

"And I want to say that he don't need to. I once heard of a feller who didn't. He kept on and he didn't do no

harm to nobody. And the Captain here wouldn't neither. So what I say is he don't need to," and Snoopy sat

down with the whole brotherhood gazing at him in silence and amazed perplexity, not one of them being able

At length Fatty Findlay, another of the voiceless ones, but the very special pal of Snoopy Sykes, broke forth

There was a roar of laughter, which only grew in volume as Snoopy turned toward his brothers a wrathful and

Again Snoopy rose. "What I said was this," he began indignantly. Again there was a roar of laughter.

"Say, you fellers, shut up and give a feller a chance. The Captain wants to resign. I say 'No.' He is a darned

"By the powers," roared Macnamara, "it is a goal, Snoopy. It's a humdinger. I second the motion."

It was utterly in vain that Brother Simmons and his whole following pointed out unitedly and successively

the utter impossibility and absurdity of the proposal which was unconstitutional and without precedent. The

hockey team had the company with them and with the bit in their teeth swept all before them.

At this point, McNish displayed the masterhand that comes from long experience. He saw his opportunity

"Mr. President," he said, and at once he received the most complete attention. "A confess this is a most

extraordinary proposal, but A'm goin' tae support it." The roar that answered told him that he had regained

control of the meeting. "Brother Simmons says it is unconstitutional and without precedent. He is no correct

in this. A have known baith maisters and managers who retained their union cards. A grant ye it is unusual,

but may I point oot that the circumstances are unusual?"Wild yells of approval"And Captain Maitland is

an unusual man"louder yells of approval"It may that there is something in the constitution o' this union

that stands in the way"Cries of "No! No!" and consignment of the constitution to a nameless locality."A

venture to suggest that a committee be appointed, consisting of Brothers Sykes, Macnamara and the

chairman, wi' poors tae add, tae go into this maitter with Captain Maitland and report."

It was a masterstroke. A true union man regards with veneration the constitution and hesitates to tamper

with it except in a perfectly constitutional manner. The opposition to the administration's original resolution

had gained what they sought, a temporary stay. The committee was appointed and the danger to both the

Again Mr. McNish took command. "And noo, Mr. President," he said, "the oor is late. We are all tired and

we all wish to give mair thocht to the main maitter before us. A move, therefore, that we adjourn to the call o'

Once more Brother Simmons found himself in a protesting minority, and the meeting broke up, the

opposition jubilant over their victory, the supporters of the administration determined to await a more

At the next monthly meeting of Local 197 of the Woodworkers' Union, the executive had little difficulty in

finally shelving the report of its committee appointed to deal with the resignation of Captain Maitland, and as

little difficulty in passing by unanimous vote their resolution held up at the last meeting. The allied unions

had meantime been extended to include the building trades. Their organization had been perfected and their

discipline immensely strengthened. Many causes contributed to this result. A month's time had elapsed and

the high emotional tides due to athletic enthusiasm, especially the hockey victory, had had space to subside.

The dead season for all outdoor games was upon them and the men, losing touch with each other and with

their captain, who was engrossed in studying his new duties, began to spend their leisure hours in loafing

All over the country the groundswell of unrest was steadily and rapidly rising. The returned soldiers who had

failed to readjust themselves to the changed conditions of life and to the changes wrought in themselves by

the war, embittered, disillusioned and disappointed, fell an easy prey to unscrupulous leaders and were being

exploited in the interests of all sorts of fads and foolish movements. Their government bonuses were long

since spent and many of them, through no fault of their own, found themselves facing a situation full of

Under the influence of financial inflation and deceived by the abundant flow of currency in every department

of business, industries by the score started up all over the land. Few could foresee the approach of dark and

stern days. It was in vain that financial leaders began to sound a note of warning, calling for retrenchment and

thrift. And now the inevitable results were beginning to appear. The great steel and coal industries began to

curtail their operations, while desperately striving to maintain war prices for their products. Other industries

followed their example. All the time the cost of living continued to mount. Foodstuffs reached unheardof

prices, which, under the manipulations of unscrupulous dealers, continued to climb.

Small wonder that working men with high wages and plenty of money in their hands cherished exaggerated

ideas of their wealth and developed extravagant tastes in dress, amusements and in standard of living. With

the rest of the world, they failed to recognise the fact that money was a mere counter in wealth and not wealth

itself. To a large extent, thrift was abandoned and while deposits in the savings banks grew in volume, the

depositors failed to recognise the fact that the value of the dollar had decreased fifty per cent. Already the

reaction from all this had begun to set in. Nervousness paralysed the great financial institutions. The fiat went

forth "No more money for industrial enterprises. No more advances on wholesale stocks." The order was

issued "Retrench. Take your losses, unload your stocks." This men were slow to do, and while all agreed

Through the month of April anxiety, fear and discontent began to haunt the minds of business men. In the

labour world the High Command was quick to sense the approach of a crisis and began to make preparations

for the coming storm. The whole industrial and commercial world gradually crystallised into its two opposing

classes. A subsidised press began earnestly to demand lower cost in productions retrenchment in expenditure,

a cut in labour costs, a general and united effort to meet the inevitable burden of deflation.

On the other hand, an inspired press began to raise an outcry against the increasing cost of living, to point out

the effect of the house famine upon the income of the working man, and to sound a warning as to the danger

Increased activity in the ranks of organised labour began to be apparent. Everywhere the wild and radical

element was gaining in influence and in numbers, and the spirit of faction and internecine strife became

It was due to the dominating forcefulness of McNish, the leader of the moderates, that the two factions in the

allied unions had been consolidated, and a single policy agreed upon. His whole past had been a preparation

for just a crisis as the present. His wide reading, his shrewd practical judgment, his large experience in labour

movements in the Old Land, gave him a position of commanding influence which enabled him to dominate

the executives and direct their activities. His sudden and unexplained acceptance of the more radical program

won for him an enthusiastic following of the element which had hitherto recognised the leadership of Brother

Simmons. Day and night, with a zeal that never tired, he laboured at the work of organising and disciplining

the various factions and parties in the ranks of labour into a single compact body of fighting men under a

single command. McNish was in the grip of one of the mightiest of human passions. Since that day in the

Perrotte home, when he had seen the girl that he loved practically offer herself, as he thought, to another man,

he had resolutely kept himself away from her. He had done with her forever and he had torn out of his heart

the genuine friendship which he had begun to hold toward the man who had deprived him of her love. But

deep in his heart he nourished a passion for vengeance that became an obsession, a madness with him. He

He learned that the Maitland Mills were in deep water, financially. His keen economic instinct and his deep

study of economic movements told him that a serious financial crisis, continentwide, was inevitable and

imminent. It only needed a successful labour war to give the final touch that would bring the whole industrial

fabric tumbling into ruin. The desire for immediate revenge upon the man toward whom he had come to

cherish an implacable hatred would not suffer him to await the onset of a nationwide industrial crisis. He

fancied that he saw the opportunity for striking an immediate blow here in Blackwater.

He steadily thwarted Maitland's attempts to get into touch with him, whether at the works or in his own

home, where Maitland had become a frequent visitor. He was able only partially to allay his mother's anxiety

and her suspicion that all was not well with him. That shrewd old lady knew her son well enough to suspect

that some untoward circumstance had befallen him, but she knew also that she could do no more than bide

With the workers of the Maitland Mills circumstances favoured the plans of McNish and the Executive of the

allied unions. The new manager was beginning to make his hand felt upon the wheel. Checks upon wastage

in labour time and in machine time were being instituted; everywhere there was a tightening up of loose

screws and a knitting up of loose ends, with the inevitable consequent irritation. This was especially true in

the case of Tony Perrotte, to whom discipline was ever an external force and never an inward compulsion.

Inexact in everything he did, irregular in his habits, irresponsible in his undertakings, he met at every turn the

pressure of the firm, resolute hand of the new manager. Deep down in his heart there was an abiding

admiration and affection for Jack Maitland, but he loathed discipline and kicked against it.

The first of May is ever a day of uncertainty and unrest in the world of labour. It is a time for readjustment,

for the fixing of wage scales, for the assertion of labour rights and the ventilating of labour wrongs. It is a

time favourable to upheaval, and is therefore awaited by all employers of labour with considerable anxiety.

On the surface there was not a ripple to indicate that as far as the Maitland Mills were concerned there was

beneath a surging tide of unrest. So undisturbed indeed was the surface that the inexperienced young manager

was inclined to make light of the anxieties of his father, and was confident in his assurance that the danger of

Out of the blue heaven fell the bolt. The mails on May Day morning brought to the desk of every manager of

every industry in Blackwater, and to every building contractor, a formal document setting forth in terms

courteous but firm the demands of the executives of the allied unions of Blackwater.

"Well, it has come, boy," was Maitland's greeting to his son, who came into the office for the usual morning

"War," replied his father, tossing him the letter and watching his face as he read it.

"Well, it is really a demand for an increase in wages. The others, I believe, are mere frills. And between

ourselves, sir, though I haven't gone into it very carefully, I am not sure but that an increase in wages is about

"An increase in wages due?" he said. "After the increase of six months ago? The thing is preposterous. The

"Good morning, Mr. McGinnis. . . . Yes, he is here. Yes. . . . At least, I suppose so. . . . Oh, I don't know. . . .

"Never mind just now, Dad," said Jack, with his hand over the receiver. Then through the telephone he said:

". . . The old boy is wild," said Jack with a slight laugh. "The wires are quite hot."

"He may be all that, sir, but in a case like this, if you really want my opinion, and I have no wish to be

disrespectful, he is a hotheaded ass. Just the kind of employer to rejoice the heart of a clever labour leader

who is out for trouble. Dad," and Jack's voice became very earnest, "let's work this out by ourselves. We can

"That is just the trouble. Look at this precious document, 'The Allied Unions.' What have I got to do with

"McDonough? Oh, I know McDonough. He is a little like McGinnis bighearted, hotheaded, good in a

scrap, useless in a conference. But I suggest, sir, that we ignore the slight unpleasant technicalities in the

manner and method of negotiation and try to deal with our own people in a reasonable way."

"I am ready always to meet my own people, but I refuse utterly to deal with this committee!" It was not often

that Mr. Maitland became profane, but in his description of this particular group of individuals his ordinary

"Dad, McGinnis will be here in a few minutes. I should like to suggest one or two things, if you will allow

"Dad, this is war, and I have learned a little about that game 'over there.' And I have learned something about

it in my athletic activities. The first essential is to decline to play the enemy's game. Let's discover his plan of

campaign. As I read this document, the thing that hits my eye is this: do they really want the things they ask

for, or is the whole thing a blind? What I mean is, do they really want war or peace? I say let's feel them out.

If they are after peace, the thing is easy. If they want war, this may come to be a very serious thing.

Mr. Maitland's lips had set in a thin, hard line. His face was like a mask of grey steel. He sat thinking silently.

"Here he comes," said Jack, looking out of the window. "Dad, you asked me to come into this with you. Let's

play the game together. I found it wise to place the weight on the defence line. Will you play defence in

"By Jove, Dad," cried Jack, in a tone of exultant confidence, "we'll beat 'em. And now here comes that old

Irish fireeater. I'll go. No alliance, Dad, remember." His father nodded as Jack left the room, to return

In the outer office Jack paused beside the desk of the old bookkeeper. From behind the closed door came the

"Rough stuff in there, eh, Wickes," said Jack, with a humorous smile. For some moments he stood listening.

"Oh, this is terrible, Mr. Jack! And just at this time. I am very much afraid it will ruin us."

"Ruin us? Rot. Don't ever say that word again. We will possibly have a jolly good row. Someone will be hurt

and perhaps all of us, more or less, but I don't mean to be beaten, if I know myself," he added, with the smile

on his face that his hockey team loved to see before a match. "Now, Wickes," continued Jack, "get that idea

of failure out of your mind. We are going to win. And meantime, let us prepare for our campaign. Here's a bit

of work I want you to do for me. Get four things for me: the wages for the last three yearsyou have the

"The cost of living from the Labour Gazette for the last three yearsyou have them hereand the rates

of increase in wages. Plot a diagram showing all these things. You know what I mean?"

"All right, Mr. Jack. I know what you want. I can give you the necessary information in regard to the first

three points almost at once. It will take some days, however, to get the wages of our competing points."

"All right, old boy. Carry on!" said Jack, and with the same smile on his face he passed out of the office into

It amused him slightly to observe the change in the attitude and bearing of his men. They would not look at

him fairly in the face. Even Snoopy Sykes and Macnamara avoided his glance. But he had for everyone his

usual cheery word. Why should he not? These chaps had no hatred for him, nor he for them. He had come to

understand union methods of discipline and recognised fully the demands for loyalty and obedience imposed

upon its members by the organisation. These men of his were bound to the union by solemn obligations. He

bore them no illwill on that score. Rather he respected them the more for it. If a fight was inevitable, he

would do his best to beat them but he would allow no spirit of hatred to change his mind toward them nor

The day was full of excursions and alarms. A hurry call was sent out by McGinnis to all employers who had

received copies of the document from the Allied Unions. In the afternoon a meeting was held in the Board of

Trade Building, but it was given over chiefly to vituperation and threatening directed toward their variously

described employees. With one heart and voice all affirmed with solemn, and in many cases with profane

oaths that they would not yield a jot to the insolent demands of this newly organised body.

"Told 'em to go to hell, and told 'em that if any of these highly coloured committee men came on my

Jack, who was present at the meeting, sat listening with silent and amused pity. They seemed to him so like a

group of angry children whose game had suddenly been interfered with and whose rage rendered them

Grant Maitland, who, throughout the meeting had sat silent, finally rose and said: "Gentlemen, the mere

expression of feeling may afford a sort of satisfaction but the question is, What is to be done? That the

situation is grave for all of us we know too well. Not many of us are in a position to be indifferent to a strike.

"Fight them to a finish! Smash the unions!" were the suggestions in various forms and with various

"It may come to a fight, gentlemen, but however gratifying a fight may be to our feelings, a fight may be

disastrous to our business. A strike may last for weeks, perhaps months. Are we in a position to stand that?

And as for smashing the unions, let us once and for all put such a thought out of our minds. These unions

have all international affiliations. It is absurd to imagine that we here in Blackwater could smash a single

Fiercely McGinnis made reply. "I want to tell you right here and now that I am prepared to close down and

go out of business but I will have no outside committee tell me how to run my job."

But no one took this threat seriously, and no one but knew that a shutdown for any of them might mean

disaster. They all recalled those unfilled orders which they were straining every nerve to complete before the

market should break, or cancellation should come. It added not a little to their rage that they knew themselves

After much angry deliberation it was finally agreed that they should appoint a committee to consider the

whole situation and to prepare a plan of action. Meantime the committee were instructed to temporise with

The evening papers announced the imminence of a strike the extent and magnitude of which had never been

experienced in the history of Blackwater. Everywhere the citizens of the industrial town were discussing the

disturbing news anxiously, angrily, indifferently, according as they were variously affected. But there was a

general agreement among all classes of citizens that a strike in the present industrial and financial situation

which was already serious enough, would be nothing short of a calamity, because no matter what the issue

would be, no matter which of the parties won in the conflict, a fight meant serious loss not only to the two

parties immediately concerned, but to the whole community as well. With the rank and file of the working

people there was little heart for a fight. More especially, men upon whom lay the responsibility for the

support of homes shrank from the pain and the suffering, as well as from the loss which experience taught

them a strike must entail. It is safe to say that in every working man's home in Blackwater that night there

was to be found a woman who, as she put her children to bed, prayed that trouble might be averted, for she

knew that in every war it is upon the women and children that in the last analysis the sorest burden must fall.

To them even victory would mean for many months a loss of luxuries for the family, it might be of comforts;

and defeat, which would come not until after long conflict, would mean not only straitened means but actual

poverty, with all the attendant humiliation and bitterness which would kill for them the joy of life and

That night Jack Maitland felt that a chat with the Reverend Murdo Matheson might help to clear his own

mind as to the demands of the Allied Unions. He found the minister in his study and in great distress of soul.

"I am glad to see you, Maitland," he said, giving him a hearty greeting. "My hope is largely placed in you and

you must not fail me in this crisis. What exactly are the demands of the unions?"

Maitland spread before him the letter which his father had received that morning. The Reverend Murdo read

it carefully over, then, with a sigh of relief, he said: "Well, it might be worse. There should not be much

After an hour spent in canvassing the subject from various points of view, the Reverend Murdo exclaimed:

"The very thing," said Maitland. "I have been trying to get in touch with him for the last month or so, but he

To Maitland's joy they found McNish at home. They were received with nonetoocordial a welcome by the

"Come awa in, Minister; come awa, Mr. Maitland. You have come to talk about the 'trouble,' a doot. Malcolm

doesna want to talk about it to me, a bad sign. He declines to converse even, wi' me, Mr. Matheson. Perhaps

"Mr. Matheson can see for himself," said her son, using his most correct English, "the impropriety of my

"Nonsense, McNish," said the minister briskly. "You know me quite well and we both know Maitland. It is

just sheer nonsense to say that you cannot talk with us. Everyone in town is talking. Every man in your union

is talking, trying to justify their present position, which, I am bound to say, takes some justifying."

"Because the demands are some of them quite unsound. Some other than you had a hand in drawing up your

"How do you" began McNish indignantly, but the minister held up his hand and continued:

"Aye, minister," said the mother with a chuckle of delight. "That's you! That's you! Haud at him! Haud at

They took seats about the blazing fire for the evening was still shrewd enough to make the fire welcome.

"Noo, Mr. Matheson," said the old lady, leaning toward him with keen relish in her face, "read me the union

"Negotiatin' pints!" exclaimed her son indignantly. "Noo, mither, ye maun play the game. A'm no gaun tae

"Nonsense, Malcolm. You can't object to talk over these points with us. You must talk them over before

"This is a community question. This community is interested and greatly interested. It will demand a full

"Aye, the community," replied the minister, "and you are not to snort at it. That's the trouble with you labour

folk. You think you are the whole thing. You forget the third and most important party in any industrial strife,

the community. The community is interested first, in justice being done to its citizensto all its citizens,

mind you; second, in the preservation of the services necessary to its comfort and wellbeing; third, in the

"Ye missed one," said McNish grimly. "The conserving of the profits of labour for the benefit of the

"I might have put that in, too," said the minister, "but it is included in my first. But I should have added

another which, to my mind, is of the very first importance, the preservation of the spirit of brotherly feeling

"Aye, ye might," replied Malcolm in bitter irony, "and ye might begin with the ministers and the churches."

"He doesn't mean me specially, Mrs. McNish, but I will not say but what he is right."

"Don't take it back, McNish," said the minister. "I need it. We all need it in the churches, and we will take it,

too. But come now, let us look at these clauses. You are surely not standing for them all, or for them all

"I'll tell you," replied the minister, "and won't take long, either." He proceeded to read over carefully the

various clauses in the demands of the allied unions, emphasizing and explaining the meaning of each clause.

"First, as to wages. This is purely a matter for adjustment to the cost of living and general industrial

conditions. It is a matter of arithmetic and common sense. There is no principle involved."

"I don't agree with you," said McNish. "There is more than the cost of living to be considered. There is the

question of the standard of living. Why should it be considered right that the standard of living for the

working man should be lower than that for the professional man or the capitalist?"

"There you are again, McNish," said the minister. "You are not up to your usual tonight. You know quite

well that every working man in my parish lives better than I do, and spends more money on his living. The

standard of living has no special significance with the working man today as distinguished from the

professional man. We are not speaking of the wasteful and idle rich. So I repeat that here it is a matter of

adjustment and that there is no principle involved. Now, as regard to hours. You ask an eight hour day and a

"What about production, Mr. Matheson?" said Maitland. "And overhead? Production costs are abnormally

high today and so are carrying charges. I am not saying that a tenhour day is not too long. Personally, I

believe that a man cannot keep at his best for ten hours in certain industriesnot in all."

"Long hours do not mean big production, Maitland. Not long hours but intensive and coordinated work

"A very important consideration," said the minister. "The only sound rule governing factory industry

especially is this: the longest possible machine time, the shortest possible man time. But here again it is a

question of organisation, adjustment and co ordination of work and workers. We all want education here."

"If I remember right," said McNish, and he could not keep the bitterness out of his voice, "I have heard you

say something in the pulpit at times in regard to the value of men's immortal souls. What care can men take of

their bodies and minds, let alone their souls, if you work them ten hours a day?"

"There is a previous question, McNish," said the minister. "Why give more leisure time to men who spend

"And whose fault is that," replied McNish sharply. "Who is responsible that they have not learned to use their

leisure more wisely? And further, what about your young bloods and their leisure hours?"

"He has," said the minister. "The point is well taken and I acknowledge it freely. My position is that the men

need more leisure, but, more than that, they need instruction as to how to use their leisure time wisely. But let

us get on to the third point. 'A Joint Committee of References demanded to which all complaints shall be

referred.' Now, that's fine. That's the Whitley plan. It is quite sound and has proved thoroughly useful in

"I quite agree," said Maitland frankly. "But certain conditions must be observed."

"Of course, of course," replied the minister. "Conditions must be observed everywhere. Now, the fourth

point: 'The foreman must be a member of the union.' Thoroughly unsound. They can't ride two horses at once.

"I am not so sure of that," said Maitland. "For my part, I should like to have retained my membership in the

union. The more that both parties meet for conference, the better. And the more connecting links between

them, the better. I should like to see a union where employers and employees should have equal rights of

"It would be an interesting experiment," said the minister. "An interesting experiment, McNish, and you are

not to grunt like that. The human element, of course, is the crux here. If we had the right sort of foreman he

might be trusted to be a member of the union, but a man cannot direct and be directed at the same time. But

that union of yours, Maitland, with both parties represented in it, is a big idea. It is worth considering. What

"It is a noble idea, laddie, and no to be sneered at, but A doot it needs a better world for it than we hae at the

"I am afraid that is true," said the minister. "But meantime a foreman is a man who gives orders and directs

work, and, generally speaking, he must remain with a directorate in any business. There may be exceptions.

"I'll acknowledge nothing of the sort," replied McNish, and entered into a long argument which convinced no

"Now we come to the next, number five: 'a voice in the management,' it means. Come now, McNish, this is

rather much. Do you want Mr. Maitland's job here, or is there anyone in your shop who would be anything

but an embarrassment trying running the Maitland Mills, and you know quite well that the men want nothing

of the sort. It may be as Mrs. McNish said, 'a good negotiating point,' but it has no place in practical politics

here in Blackwater. How would you like, for instance, to take orders from Simmons?"

The old lady chuckled delightedly. "He has you there, laddie, he has you there!"

But this McNish would not acknowledge, and proceeded to argue at great length on purely theoretical

grounds for joint control of industries, till his mother quite lost patience with him.

"Hoots, laddie, haud yer hoofs on mither earth. Would ye want yon radical bodies to take chairge o' ony

"Now, let us look at the last," said Mr. Matheson. "It is practically a demand for the closed shop. Now,

McNish, I ask you, man to man, what is the use of putting that in there? It is not even a negotiating point."

At that McNish fired up. "It is no negotiating point," he declared. "I stand for that. It is vital to the very

existence of unionised labour. Everyone knows that. Unionism cannot maintain itself in existence without the

"Now, McNish, tell me honestly," said the minister, "do you expect or hope for an absolutely closed shop in

the factories here in Blackwater, or in the Building Industries? Have you the faintest shadow of a hope?"

"We may not get it," said McNish, "but that is no reason why we should not fight for it. Men have died

fighting for the impossible because they knew it was right, and, by dying for it, they have brought it to pass."

"Far be it from me, McNish, to deny that. But I am asking you now, again as man to man, do you know of

any industry, even in the Old Land, where the closed shop absolutely prevails, and do you think that

"Yes," shouted McNish, springing to his feet, "there is hope. There is hope even in Blackwater."

"Tut, tut, laddie," said his mother. "Dinna deeve us. What has come ower ye that ye canna talk like a

reasonable man? Noo, Mr. Matheson, ye've had enough of the labour matters. A'll mak ye a cup of tea."

"Thank you, Mrs. McNish," said the minister gravely, "but I cannot linger. I have still work to do tonight."

He rose from his chair and found his coat. His manner was gravely sad and gave evidence of his

"Dinna fash yerself, minister," said the old lady, helping him on with his coat. "The 'trouble' will blow ower,

"Mrs. McNish, what I have seen and heard in this house tonight," said the minister solemnly, "gives me

little hope that it will all come right, but rather gives me grave concern." Then, looking straight into the eyes

of her son, he added: "I came here expecting to find help and guidance in discovering a reasonable way out of

"Mr. Matheson," said McNish, "I am always glad to discuss any matter with you in a reasonable and kindly

"I am afraid my presence has not helped very much, Mrs. McNish," said Maitland. "I am sorry I came

tonight. I did come earnestly desiring and hoping that we might find a way out. It seems I have made a

"You came at my request, Maitland," said the minister. "If a mistake has been made, it is mine. Goodnight,

Mrs. McNish. Good night, Malcolm. I don't pretend to know or understand what is in your heart, but I am

going to say to you as your minister that where there is evil passion there can be no clear thinking. And

further, let me say that upon you will devolve a heavy responsibility for the guidance you give these men.

Goodnight again. Remember that One whom we both acknowledge as the source of all true light said: 'If the

light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness.'" He shook hands first with the mother, then with

the son, who turned away from him with a curt "Goodnight" and nodded to Maitland.

For a moment or two neither of the men spoke. They were both grievously disappointed in the interview.

"I never saw him like that," said the Reverend Murdo at length. "What can be the matter with him? With him

"These men clearly do not want what they are asking for. They want chiefly warat least, McNish does."

"I am deeply disappointed in McNish," replied the minister, "and I confess I am anxious. McNish, above all

others, is the brains of this movement, and in that mood there is little hope of reason from him. I fear it will

"Oh, I don't despair," said Maitland cheerily. "I have an idea he has a quarrel with me. He wants to get me.

The Reverend Murdo waited for a further explanation, but was too much of a gentleman to press the point

"Right you are," said Maitland. "Cheerio. We'll carry on. He shook hands warmly with the minister and went

"That is a man to follow," said the minister to himself. "He goes whistling into a fight."

The negotiations between the men and their employers, in which the chief exponents of the principles of

justice and fair play were Mr. McGinnis on the one hand and Brother Simmons on the other, broke down at

the second meeting, which ended in a vigorous personal encounter between these gentlemen, without,

The following day a general strike was declared. All work ceased in the factories affected and building

operations which had begun in a moderate way were arrested. Grant Maitland was heartily disgusted with the

course of events and more especially with the humiliating and disgraceful manner in which the negotiations

"You were quite right, Jack," he said to his son the morning after which the strike had been declared. "That

"It really made little difference, Dad. The negotiations were hopeless from the beginning. There was no

"Because McNish wants war." He proceeded to give an account of the evening spent at the McNish home.

"There is something in what you say, doubtless," replied his father, "but meantime there is a lot to be done."

"We have a lot of stock made up on hand. The market is dead at present prices. There is no hope of sales. The

market will fall lower still. I propose that we take our loss and unload at the best rate we can get."

"That is your job, Dad. I know little about that, but I believe you are right. I have been doing a lot of reading

in trade journals and that sort of thing, and I believe that a big slump is surely coming. But there is a lot to do

in my department at the Mills, also. I am not satisfied with the inside arrangement of our planing mill. There

is a lot of time wasted and there is an almost complete lack of coordination. Here is a plan I want to show

Maitland glanced at the plan perfunctorily, more to please his son than anything else. But, after a second

glance, he became deeply interested and began to ask questions. After half an hour's study he said:

"Jack, this is really a vast improvement. Strange, I never thought of a great many of these things."

"I have been reading up a bit, and when I was on my trip two weeks ago I looked in upon two or three of the

plants of our competitors. I believe this will be more uptodate and will save time and labour."

"I am sure it will, boy. And we will put this in hand at once. But what about men?"

"Then there is something else, Dad. We ought to have a good athletic field for our men."

"Father, they are not rascals," said his son. "They are just the same today as they ever were. A decent lot of

chaps who don't think the same as we do on a number of points. But they are coming back again some time

And before Grant Maitland could recover his speech he found himself looking at a beautifullydrawn plan of

athletic grounds set out with walks, shade trees and shrubbery, and with a plain but commodious clubhouse

"The land," replied Jack, "is your land about the old mill. It will cost us nothing, I hope. The old mill site

contains two and onehalf acres. It can be put in shape with little work. The mill itself is an eyesore; ought to

have been removed long ago. Dad, you ought to have seen the plant at Violetta, that is in Ohio, you know. It

is a joy to behold. But never mind about that. The lumber in the old mill can be used up in the clubhouse.

The timbers are wonderful; nothing like them today anywhere. The outside finishing will be done with slabs

"And you mean to pay them for the construction of their own athletic grounds and clubhouse?"

"This is really the most extraordinary thing I have ever heard of in all my life," he said, after he had done

with his laugh. "Your men strike; you prepare for them a beautiful clubhouse and athletic grounds as a

reward for their loyalty. You pay them wages so that they may be able to sustain the strike indefinitely."

Again he threw back his head and continued laughing as Jack had never in his life heard him laugh.

"Why not, Dad?" said Jack, gazing at his father in halfshamed perplexity. "The idea of athletic grounds and

clubhouse is according to the best modern thought. These are our own men. You are not like McGinnis.

You are not enraged at them. You don't hate them. They are going to work for us again in some days or

weeks. They are idle and therefore available for work. You can get better work from them than from other

Again his father began to laugh. "Your argument, Jack," he said when he was able to control his speech, "is

absolutely unanswerable. There is no answer possible on any count; but did ever man hear of such a scheme?

"I confess not. But, Dad, you are a good sport. We are out to win this fight, but we don't want to injure

anybody. We are going to beat them, but we don't want to abuse them unnecessarily. Besides, I think it is

"McNish," echoed Jack, a cloud falling upon his face. "I confess I don't understand McNish. At least," he

"Well, boy," said his father, beginning to laugh again, "give me a night to think it over."

Then Jack departed, not quite sure of himself or of the plan which appeared to give his father such intense

amusement. "At any rate," he said to himself as he walked out of the office, "if it is a joke it is a good one.

The Mayor of Blackwater was peculiarly sensitive to public opinion and acutely susceptible of public

approval. In addition, he was possessed of a somewhat exalted idea of his powers as the administrator in

public affairs, and more particularly as a mediator in times of strife. He had been singularly happy in his

mediation between the conflicting elements in his Council, and more than once he had been successful in the

composing of disputes in arbitration cases submitted to his judgment. Moreover, he had an eye to a second

term in the mayor's chair, which gubernatorial and majestical office gave full scope to the ruling ambition of

his life, which was, in his own words, "to guard the interests and promote the wellbeing of my people."

The industrial strike appeared to furnish him with an opportunity to gratify this ambition. He resolved to put

an end to this unnecessary and wasteful struggle, and to that end he summoned to a public meeting his fellow

citizens of all classes, at which he invited each party in the industrial strife to make a statement of their case,

The employers were more than dubious of the issue, having but a small idea of the mayor's power of control

and less of his common sense. Brother Simmons, however, foreseeing a magnificent field for the display of

his forensic ability, a thing greatly desired by labour leaders of his kidney, joyfully welcomed the proposal.

McNish gave hesitating assent, but, relying upon his experience in the management of public assemblies and

confident of his ability to shape events to his own advantage, he finally agreed to accept the invitation.

The public meeting packed the City Hall, with representatives of both parties in the controversy in about

equal numbers and with a great body of citizens more or less keenly interested in the issue of the meeting and

expectant of a certain amount of "fun." The Mayor's opening speech was thoroughly characteristic. He was

impressed with the responsibility that was his for the wellbeing of his people. Like all rightthinking

citizens of this fair town of Blackwater, he deeply regretted this industrial strife. It interfered with business. It

meant loss of money to the strikers. It was an occasion of much inconvenience to the citizens and it

engendered bitterness of feeling that might take months, even years, to remove. He stood there as the friend

of the working man. He was a working man himself and was proud of it. He believed that on the whole they

were good fellows. He was a friend also of the employers of labour. What could we do without them? How

could our great industries prosper without their money and their brains? The one thing necessary for success

was cooperation. That was the great word in modern democracy. In glowing periods he illustrated this point

from their experiences in the war. All they wanted to do was to sit down together, and, man to man, talk their

difficulties over. He would be glad to assist them, and he had no doubt as to the result. He warned the

working man that hard times were coming. The spectre of unemployment was already parading their streets.

Unemployment meant disorder, rioting. This, he assured them, would not be permitted. At all costs order

would be maintained. He had no wish to threaten, but he promised them that the peace would be preserved at

all costs. He suggested that the strikers should get back at once to work and the negotiations should proceed

"The mayor (h)urges the workers to get back to work," he said. "Does 'e mean at (h)increased pay, or not? 'E

says as 'ow this strike interferes with business. 'E doesn't tell us what business. But I can tell 'im it

(h)interferes with the business of robbery of the workin' man. 'E deplores the loss of money to the strikers.

Let me tell 'im that the workin' men are prepared to suffer that loss. True, they 'ave no big bank accounts to

carry 'em on, but there are things that they love more than moneyliberty and justice and the rights of the

people. What are we strikin' for? Nothin' but what is our own. The workin' man makes (h)everything that is

made. What percentage of the returns does 'e get in wages? They won't tell us that. Last year these factories

were busy in the makin' o' munitions. Mr. McGinnis 'ere was makin' shells. I'd like to (h)ask, Mr. Mayor,

Mr. McGinnis sprang to his feet, "I want to tell you," he said in a voice choking with rage, "that it is none of

"'E says as it is none o' my business," cried Brother Simmons, joyously taking Mr. McGinnis on. "Let me

(h)ask 'im who paid for these shells? I did, you did, all of us did. Not my business? Then 'ose business is it?

(H)If 'e was paid a fair price for 'is shells, (h)all right, I say nothin' against it. If 'e was paid more than a fair

price, then 'e is a robber, worse, 'e is a blood robber, because the price was paid in blood."

At once a dozen men were on their feet. Cries of "Order! Order!" and "Put him out!" arose on every hand.

The mayor rose from his chair and, in an impressive voice, said: "We must have order. Sit down, Mr.

Simmons." Simmons sat down promptly. Union men are thoroughly disciplined in points of order. "We must

have order," continued the mayor. "I will not permit any citizen to be insulted. We all did our bit in this town

of Blackwater. Some of us went to fight, and some that could not go to fight 'kept the home fires burning'." A

shout of derisive laughter from the working men greeted this phrase. The mayor was deeply hurt. "I want to

say that those who could not go to the war did their bit at home. Let the meeting proceed, but let us observe

"(H)Insult? Did I (h)insult anybody? I don't know what Mr. McGinnis made from 'is shells. I only said that

ifyou (h)understandif 'e made more than e ought to, 'e is a robber. And since the price of our freedom

Again the cries arose. "Throw him out!" Once more the mayor rose. "You must not make insinuations, sir,"

he cried angrily. "You must not make insinuations against respectable citizens."

"(H)Insinooations," cried Simmons. "No, sir, I never make no (h)insinooations. If I knew that (h)any man 'ere

'ad made (h)unfair profits I wouldn't make no (h)insinooations. I would charge 'im right 'ere with blood

robbery. And let me say," shouted Simmons, taking a step into the aisle, "that the time may come when the

working men of this country will make these charges, and will (h)ask the people who kept the ''ome fires

"what profits came to them from these same 'ome fires. The people will (h)ask for an (h)explanation of

these bank accounts, of these new factories, of these big stores, of these (h)autermobiles. The people that

went to the war and were (h)unfortoonate enough to return came back to poverty, while many of these 'ere

'ome fire burners came (h)out with fortunes." At this point brother Simmons cast a fierce and baleful eye

upon a group of the employers who sat silent and wrathful before him. "And now, what I say," continued

"Mr. Farrington," said the mayor, recognising one of the largest building contractors in the town.

"Mr. Mayor, I should like to ask what are we discussing this afternoon? Are we discussing the war records of

the citizens of Blackwater? If so, that is not what I came for. It may be interesting to find out what each man

did in the war. I find that those who did most say least. I don't know what Mr. Simmons did in the war. I

With one spring Simmons was on his feet and in the aisle. He ripped off coat and vest, pulled his shirt over

his head and revealed a back covered with the network of ghastly scars. "The gentleman (h)asks," he panted,

"what I done in the war. I don't know. I cannot say what I done in the war, but that is what the war done to

A deadly silence gripped the audience for a single moment. Then upon every hand rose fierce yells, oaths and

strange cries. Above the uproar came Farrington's booming voice. Leaving his seat, which was near the back

"Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! I demand attention!" As he reached Simmons's side, he paused and, facing about,

he looked upon the array of faces pale and tense with passion. "I want to apologise to this gentleman," he said

in a voice breaking with emotion. "I should not have said what I did. The man who bears these scars is a man

I am proud to know." He turned swiftly toward Simmons with outstretched hand. "I am proud to know you,

sir. I could not go to the war. I was past age. I sent my two boys. They are over there still." As the two men

shook hands, for once in his life Simmons was speechless. His face was suffused with uncontrollable feeling.

On every side were seen men, strong men, with tears streaming down their faces. A nobler spirit seemed to

"Mr. Mayor," he said quietly, "we have all suffered together in this war. I, for one, want to do the fair thing

by our men. Let us meet them and talk things over before any fairminded committee. Surely we who have

suffered together in war can work together in peace." It was a noble appeal, and met with a noble response.

Then the Reverend Murdo Matheson rose to his feet. "Mr. Mayor," he said, "I confess I was not hopeful of

the result of this meeting. But I am sure we all recognise the presence and influence of a mightier Spirit than

ours. From the outset I have been convinced that the problems in the industrial situation here are not beyond

solution, and should yield to fair and reasonable consideration. I venture to move that a committee of five be

appointed, two to be chosen by each of the parties in this dispute, who would in turn choose a chairman; that

this committee meet with representatives of both parties; and that their decision in all cases be final."

At this point Jack, who was sitting near the platform and whose eyes were wandering over the audience, was

startled by the look on the face of McNish. It was a look in which mingled fear, anxiety, wrath. He seemed to

"Do I understand that the decision of this committee is to be final on every point?"

"Certainly," said the Reverend Murdo. "There is no other way by which we can arrive at a decision."

"Do you mean," cried McGinnis, "that if this committee says I must hire only union men in my foundry that I

"I would reply," said the Reverend Murdo, "that we must trust this committee to act in a fair and reasonable

"I want to know," he cried in growing anger, "I want to know exactly where we are and I want a definite

answer. Will this committee have the right to force me to employ only union men?"

"Mr. Mayor," replied the Reverend Murdo, "Mr. McGinnis is right in asking for definiteness. My answer is

that we must trust this committee to do what is wise and reasonable, and we must accept their decision as

Thereupon McGinnis rose and expressed an earnest desire for a tragic and unhappy and agelong fate if he

would consent to any such proposition. With terrible swiftness the spirit of the meeting was changed. The

moment of lofty emotion and noble impulse passed. The opportunity for reason and fair play to determine the

issue was lost, and the old evil spirit of suspicion and hate fell upon the audience like a pall.

At this point McNish, from whose face all anxiety had disappeared, rose and said:

"For my part, and speaking for the working men of this town, I am ready to accept the proposal that has been

made. We have no fear for the justice of our demands like some men here present. We know we have the

right on our side and we are willing to accept the judgment of such a committee as has been proposed." The

words were fair enough, but the tone of sneering contempt was so irritating that immediately the position

assumed by McGinnis received support from his fellow employers on every hand. Once more uproar ensued.

After some minutes of heated altercation with Mr. McGinnis, whom he threatened with expulsion from the

meeting, the mayor finally left the chair and the meeting broke up in disorder which threatened to degenerate

Again McNish took command. Leaping upon a chair, with a loud voice which caught at once the ears of his

following, he announced that a meeting was to be held immediately in the union rooms, and he added: "When

these men here want us again, they know where to find us." He was answered with a roar of approval, and

with an ugly smile on his face he led his people in triumph from the hall, leaving behind the mayor, still

engaged in a heated argument with McGinnis and certain employers who sympathised with the Irishman's

On the Rectory lawn a hardfought game had just finished, bringing to a conclusion a lengthened series of

contests which had extended over a whole week, in which series Patricia, with her devoted cavalier, Victor

Forsythe, had been forced to accept defeat at the hands of her sister and her partner, Hugh Maynard.

"Partner, you were wonderful in that last set!" said Patricia, as they moved off together to offer their

"Patsy," said her partner, in a low voice, "as ever, you are superb in defeat as in victory. Superb,

"No time just now," cried Patricia as she reached the others. "Well, you two deserved to win. You played

"Well, some other day," said Vic. "I think we are improving a bit, partner. A little more close harmony will

"Come away, children," said Mrs. Templeton, calling to them from the shade at the side of the courts. "You

And a truly wonderful picture the girl made, in her dainty muslin frock, her bold red hair tossed in a splendid

aureole about her face. Carefree, heartfree, as she flashed from her hearty blue eyes her saucy and

bewitching glances at her partner's face, her mother sighed, thinking that her baby girl was swiftly slipping

away from her and forever into that wider world of womanhood where others would claim her.

In lovely contrast stood her sister, dressed in flannel skirt and sweater of old gold silk, fair, tall, beautiful, a

delicate grace in every line of her body and a proud, yet gentle strength in every feature of her face. There

dwelt in her deep blue eyes a look of hidden, mysterious power which had wrought in her mother a certain

fear of her eldest daughter. The mother never quite knew what to expect from Adrien. Yet, for all, she carried

an assured confidence that whatever she might do, her daughter never would shame the high traditions of her

The long shadows from the tall elms lay across the velvet sward of the Rectory lawn. The heat of the early

June day had given place to the cool air of the evening. The exquisitely delicate colouring from the setting

sun flooded the sky overhead and deepened into blues and purples behind the elms and the church spire. A

deep peace had fallen upon the world except that from the topmost bough of the tallest elm tree a robin sang,

The little group, disposed upon the lawn according to their various desires, stood and sat looking up at the

"How happy he is," said Mrs. Templeton, a wistful cadence of sadness in her voice.

"Cheerio, old chap!" cried Vic, waving his hand at the gallant little songster. "You are a regular grouch

"He has no strike, at any rate, to worry him," said Patricia, "and, by the way, what is the news today? Does

"Oh," cried Vic, "there has been a most exciting morning at the E. D. C.the Employers' Defence

"Do go on!" cried Patricia impatiently. "Was there a fight? They are always having one."

"Of course there was the usual morning scrap, but with a variation today of a deputation from the brethren

of the Ministerial Association. But, of course, Mrs. Templeton, the Doctor must have told you already."

"I hardly ever see him these days. He is dreadfully occupied. There is so much trouble, sickness and that sort

"I was thinking of that speech," replied Victor more quietly than was his wont. "It came at a most dramatic

moment. The governor was quite worked up over it and gave me a full account. They had just got all their

reports in'all safe along the Potomac'no break in the front lineBuilding Industries slightly shaky due

to working men's groups taking on small contracts, which excited great wrath and which McGinnis declared

"Aha!" cried Victor. "Little you know of the resources of the E. D. C. It is proposed that the supply dealers

should refuse supplies to all builders until the strike is settled. No more lumber, lime, cement, etc., etc."

"The majority were pretty much for it, however, except Maitland and my governor, they protesting that this

boycott was hardly playing the game. Your friend Captain Jack came in for his licks," continued Vic, turning

to Patricia. "It appears he has been employing strikers in some work or other, which some of the brethren

"Nonsense!" cried Patricia indignantly. "Jack took me yesterday to see the work. He showed me all the plans

and we went over the grounds. It is a most splendid thing, Mamma! He is laying out athletic grounds for his

men, with a club house and all that sort of thing. They are going to be perfectly splendid! Do you mean to say

"Kamerad!" cried Vic, holding up his hands. "Not me! However, Jack was exonerated, for it appears he sent

them a letter two weeks ago, telling them what he proposed to do, to which letter they had raised no

"Oh, the usual thing. They all resolved to stand patno surrender or, rather, let the whole line

advanceyou know the stuffwhen into this warlike atmosphere walked the deputation from the

Ministerial Association. It gave the E. D. C. a slight shock, so my Dad says. The Doctor fired the first gun.

My governor says that it was like a breath from another world. His face was enough. Everybody felt mean for

just being what they were. I know exactly what that is, for I know the way he makes me feel when I look at

"I know," said Patricia softly, letting her hand fall upon her mother's shoulder.

"Well," continued Vic, "the Doctor just talked to them as if they were his children. They hadn't been very

good and he was sorry for them. He would like to help them to be better. The other side, too, had been doing

wrong, and they were having a bad time. They were suffering, and as he went on to tell them in that

wonderful voice of his about the women and children, every man in the room, so the governor said, was

wondering how much he had in his pocket. And then he told them of how wicked it was for men whose sons

had died together in France to be fighting each other here in Canada. Well, you know my governor. As he

told me this tale, we just both of us bowed our heads and wept. It's the truth, so help me, just as you are doing

"I am not," cried Patricia indignantly. "And I don't care if I am. He is a dear and those men are just"

"Alas, not they, for at that moment some old Johnny began asking questions and then that old fireeater,

McGinnis, horned in again. No Arbitration Committee for himno one could come into his foundry and tell

him how to run his businesssame old stuff, you know. Well, then, the Methodist Johnny took a hand.

"Well, Brother Haynes took up the tale. He is an eloquent chap, all right. He took the line 'As you are strong,

be pitiful,' but the psychological moment had gone and the line still held strong. Campbell of the woollen

mills invited him up to view his $25,000.00 stock 'all dressed up and nowhere to go.' 'Tell me how I can pay

increased wages with this stock on my hands.' And echo answered 'How?' Haynes could not. Then my old

chief took a handthe Reverend Murdo Matheson. He is a good old scout, a Padre, you knowregular

fireeatera rasping voice and grey matter oozing from his pores. My governor says he abandoned the

frontal attack and took them on the flank. Opened up with a dose of economics that made them sit up. And

when he got through on this line, he made every man feel that it was entirely due to the courtesy and

forbearance of the union that he was allowed to carry on business at all. He spiked Brother McGinnis's guns

by informing him that if he was harbouring the idea that he owned a foundry all on his own, he was labouring

under a hallucination. All he owned was a heap of brick and mortar and some iron and steel junk arranged in

some peculiar way. In fact, there was no foundry there till the workmen came in and started the wheels going

round. Old McGinnis sat gasping like a chicken with the pip. Then the Padre turned on the 'Liberty of the

subject' stop as follows: 'Mr. McGinnis insists upon liberty to run his foundry as he likes; insists upon perfect

freedom of action. There is no such thing as perfect freedom of action in modern civilisation. For instance,

Mr. McGinnis rushing to catch a train, hurls his Hudson Six gaily down Main Street thirty miles an hour, on

the lefthand side of the street. A speed cop sidles up, whispers a sweet something in his ear, hails him

ignominiously into court and invites him to contribute to the support of the democracy fifty little iron men as

an evidence of his devotion to the sacred principle of personal liberty. In short, there is no such thing as

personal liberty in this burg, unless it is too late for the cop to see.' The governor says McGinnis's face

afforded a perfect study in emotions. I should have liked to have seen it. The Padre never took his foot off the

accelerator. He took them all for an excursion along the 'Responsibility' line: personal responsibility, mutual

responsibility, community responsibility and every responsibility known to the modern mind. And then when

he had them eating out of his hand, he offered them two alternatives: an Arbitration Committee as formerly

proposed, or a Conciliation Board under the Lemieux Act. My governor says it was a great speech. He had

"What DO you mean, Vic?" lamented Mrs. Templeton. "I have only the very vaguest idea of what you have

"So sorry, Mrs. Templeton. What I mean is the Padre delivered a most effective speech."

"Who comforts you with bonbons," continued Vic, ignoring her words, "and stays you with joy rides,

interposed at this second psychological crisis. He very cleverly moves a vote of thanks, bows out the

deputation, thanking them for their touching addresses, and promising consideration. Thereupon, as the door

closed, he proceeded to sound the alarm once more, collected the scattered forces, flung the gage of battle in

"What I cannot understand is," said Hugh, "why the unions do not invoke the Lemieux Act?"

"Yes. You know, Mrs. Templeton, either party in dispute can ask for a Board of Conciliation, not Arbitration,

you understand. This Board has power to investigatebring out all the factsand failing to effect

conciliation, makes public its decision in the case, leaving both parties at the bar of public opinion."

"But I cannot understand why the unions do not ask for this Conciliation Board."

"I fear, Hugh," said Victor in an awed and solemn voice, "that there is an Ethiopian in the coal bin."

"So there is," said Hugh. "The unions will take an Arbitration Committee, which the employers decline to

"My governor says it's a bluff," said Vic. "The unions know quite well that McGinnis et hoc genus omne will

have nothing to do with an Arbitration Committee. Hence they are all for an Arbitration Committee. On the

other hand, neither the unions nor McGinnis are greatly in love with the prying methods of the Conciliation

"But why should they all be dominated by a man like McGinnis?" demanded Adrien. "Why doesn't some

"But they won't long. Maitland declares that he will take either board, and that if the committee cannot agree

which to choose, he will withdraw and make terms on his own. He furthermore gave them warning that if any

strikebreakers were employed, of which he had heard rumours, he would have nothing to do with the

"Indeed, you are jolly well right," said Vic. "We will all be in it then. Civic guard! Special police! 'Shun! Fix

"Nonsense, Vic," said Hugh. "Don't listen to him, Mrs. Templeton. We will have nothing of that sort."

"Well, it is all very sad," said Mrs. Templeton. "But here is Rupert. He will give us the latest."

But Rupert appeared unwilling to talk about the meeting of the morning. He was quite certain, however, that

the strike was about to break. He had inside information that the resources of the unions were almost

exhausted. The employers were tightening up all along the line, credits were being refused at the stores, the

"It would be a great mercy if it would end soon," said Mrs. Templeton. "It is a sad pity that these poor people

"It is a cruel shame, Mrs. Templeton," said Rupert indignantly. "I have it from scores of them that they didn't

want to strike at all. They were getting good wagesthe wage scale has gone up steadily during the war to

"The cost of living has gone up much more rapidly, I believe," said Adrien. "The men are working ten hours a

day, the conditions under which they labour are in some cases deplorable; that McGinnis foundry is a ghastly

place, terribly unhealthy; the girls in many of the factories are paid wages so shamefully low that they can

hardly maintain themselves in decency, and they are continually being told that they are about to be

dismissed. The wrong's not all on one side, by any means. To my mind, men like McGinnis who are

"You are quite right, Adrien," replied Hugh. "I consider him a most dangerous man. That sort of pigheaded,

bullheaded employer of labour does more to promote strife than a dozen 'walking delegates.' I am not

terribly strong for the unions, but the point of vantage is always with the employers. And they have a lot to

learn. Oh, you may look at me, Adrien! I am no bolshevist, but I see a lot of these men in our office."

Slowly the evening was deepening into night, but still the glow from the setting sun lingered in the western

sky. The brave little songster had gone from the top of the elm tree, but from the shrubbery behind the church

"Oh, listen to the darling!" cried Patricia. "I haven't heard one for a long, long time."

"There used to be a great many in the shrubbery here, and in the old days the woods nearby were full of them

As they sat listening for the whippoorwill's voice, they became aware of other sounds floating up to their ears

from the town. The hum of passing motors, the high, shrill laughter of children playing in the streets, the

clang of the locomotive bell from the railroad station, all softened by distance. But as they listened there

came another sound like nothing they had ever heard in that place before. A strange, confused rumbling, with

cries jutting out through the dull, rolling noise. A little later came the faint clash of rhythmic, tumultuous

Again came the rumbling sound, punctuated with quick volleys of cheering. The men glanced at each other.

They knew well that sound, a sound they had often heard during the stirring days of the war, in the streets of

the great cities across the seas, and in other places, too, where men were wont to crowd. As they listened in

"My dear," said Mrs. Templeton faintly to her eldest daughter, "I think I shall go in."

At once Hugh offered her his arm, while Adrien took the other, and together they led her slowly into the

Meanwhile the others tumbled into Rupert's car and motored down to the gate, and there waited the approach

At the gate Dr. Templeton, returning from his pastor visitations, found them standing.

"Come here, Papa!" cried Patricia. "Let us wait here. There is something coming up the street."

"I guess it is a strikers' parade, sir. I heard that they were to organise a marchout tonight. It is rather a

Through the deepening twilight they could see at the head of the column and immediately before the band, a

double platoon of young girls dressed in white, under the command of an officer distinguished from the

others by her red sash, all marching with a beautiful precision to the tap of the drum. As the head of the

Behind that swinging company of girls came the band, marching to the tapping of the drum only. Then after a

space came a figure, pathetic, arresting, movinga woman, obviously a workman's wife, of middle age,

grey, workworn, and carrying a babe of a few months in her arms, marched alone. Plainly dressed, her grey

head bare, she walked proudly erect but with evident signs of weariness. The appearance of that lone, weary,

greyhaired woman and her helpless babe struck hard upon the heart with its poignant appeal, choking men's

throats and bringing hot tears to women's eyes. Following that lonely figure came one who was apparently

the officer in command of the column. As he came opposite the gate, his eye fell upon the group there.

Immediately the whole column came to a halt and faced toward the side of the street where stood the group

"I am going to get Annette," said Patricia to her father, and she darted off, returning almost immediately with

"What does this mean, Annette? What are you doing? It is a great lark!" cried Patricia.

"Well, it is not exactly a lark," answered Annette, with a slight laugh. "You see, we girls want to help out the

boys. We are strikers, too, you know. They asked us to take part in the parade, and here we are. But it's got

away past being a lark," she continued, her voice and face growing stern. "There is a lot of suffering among

the workers. I know all my money has gone," she added, after a moment, with a gay laugh.

Meantime, the officer commanding the column had spoken a few words to the leader of the band, and in

response, to the surprise and dismay of the venerable Doctor, the band struck up that rollicking air associated

with the timehonoured chorus, "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow." Then all stood silent, gazing at the Doctor,

"Papa, dear," said Adrien, who with Hugh Maynard had joined them at the gate, "you will have to speak to

"Speak to them, my dear? What in the world could I say? I have nothing to say to them."

Then the old Doctor, buttoning his coat tightly about him and drawing himself erect, said:

"Rupert, please run your car out to the road. Thank you." Mounting the car, he stood waiting quietly till the

cheering had died down into silence, his beautiful, noble, saintly face lit with the faint glow that still came

from the western sky but more with the inner light that shines from a soul filled with high faith in God and

"Ah!" corrected the Doctor. "Ladies and Gentlemen:" while a laugh ran down the line. "One generally begins

a speech with the words 'I am glad to see you here.' These words I cannot say this evening. I regret more

deeply than you can understand the occasion of your being here at all. And in this regret I know that you all

share. But I am glad that I can say from my heart that I feel honoured by and deeply moved by the

compliment you have just paid me through your band. I could wish, indeed, that I was the 'jolly good fellow'

you have said, but as I look at you I confess I am anything but 'jolly.' I have been in too many of your homes

during the last three weeks to be jolly. The simple truth is, I am deeply saddened and, whatever be the rights

or wrongs, and all fairminded men will agree that there are rights and wrongs on both sides, my heart goes

out in sympathy to all who are suffering and anxious and fearful for the future. I will try to do my best to

"But so far I and those labouring with me have failed. But surely, surely, wise and reasonable men can find

before many days a solution for these problems. And now let me beg your leaders to be patient a little longer,

to banish angry and suspicious feelings and to be willing to follow the light. I see that many of you are

soldiers. To you my heart goes out with a love as true as if you were my own sons, for you were the comrades

of my son. Let me appeal to you to preserve unbroken that fine spirit of comradeship that made the Canadian

Army what it was. And let me assure you all that, however our weak and erring human hearts may fail and

come short, the great heart of the Eternal Father is unchanging in Its love and pity for us all. Meantime,

believe me, I shall never cease to labour and pray that very soon peace may come to us again." Then, lifting

his hands over them while the men uncovered, he said a brief prayer, closing with the apostolic blessing.

Startled at the burst of cheering which followed shortly after the conclusion of the prayer, the babe broke into

loud crying. Vainly the weary mother sought to quiet her child, she herself wellnigh exhausted with her

march, being hardly able to stand erect. Swiftly Adrien sprang from the car and ran out to her.

"Let me carry the babe," she cried, taking the child in her arms. "Come into the car with me."

"No," said the woman fiercely. "I will go through with it." But even as she spoke she swayed upon her feet.

With gentle insistence, however, Adrien caught her arm and forced her toward the car.

"Mrs. Egan," said Annette, coming to her, "it will be quite all right to go in the car. It will be all the better.

But, still protesting, the old woman hung back, crying, "Let me go! I will go through!"

"Delighted, I am sure!" cried Vic, climbing into the seat. "Get in here, Patsy. All set, Colonel," he added,

saluting to the officer in command of the parade, and again the column broke into cheering as they moved off

to the tap of the drum, Rupert's elegant Hudson Six taking a place immediately following the band.

"All my life I have longed for the spotlight," murmured Vic to his companion, a delighted grin on his face.

"But one can have too much of a good thing. And, with Wellington, I am praying that night may come before

"Why, Vic, do you care?" cried Patricia. "Not I! And I think it was just splendid of Adrien!"

"Oh, topping! But did you see the gentle Rupert's face? Oh, it was simply priceless! Fancy this sacred car

"Don't laugh, Vic!" said Patricia, laying her hand upon his arm. "The lady behind will see you."

"Steady it is," said Vic. "But I feel as if I were the elephant in the circus. I say, can we execute a flank

"We shall go on a bit yet," said Adrien. "Mrs. Egan is very tired and I am sure will want to go home

But Mrs. Egan was beginning to recover her strength and, indeed, to enjoy the new distinction of riding in a

"No," she said, "I must go through." She had the look and tone of a martyr. "They chose me, you see, and I

Through the main streets of the town the parade marched and countermarched till, in a sudden, they found

themselves in front of the McGinnis foundry. Before the gate in the high board fence which enclosed the

property, a small crowd had gathered, which greeted the marching column with uproarious cheers. From the

company at the gate a man rushed forward and spoke eagerly to the officer in command.

"By Jove, there's Tony!" said Vic. "And that chap McDonough. What does this mean?"

After a brief conversation with Tony, who apparently was passionately pressing his opinion, the officer shook

his head and marched steadily forward. Suddenly Tony, climbing upon the fence, threw up his hand and,

pointing toward the foundry, shouted forth the single word, "Scabs!" Instantly the column halted. Again

Tony, in a yell, uttered the same word, "Scabs!" From hundreds of throats there was an answering roar,

savage, bloodthirsty as from a pack of wild beasts. Tony waved his hand for silence.

"Scabs!" he cried again. "McGinnis strikebreakers! They came to night. They are in there!" He swung his

arm around and pointed to the foundry. "Shall we give them a welcome? What do you say, boys?" Again and

"Here, this is no place for you!" cried Vic. "Let's get out." At his touch the machine leaped forward, clear of

Halting the car, Vic leaped from the wheel, ran to where the girls' squad was halted and caught Annette by

"Go with you? Not I! But," she added in a breathless undertone, "for God's sake, get your ladies and the baby

"Go! Go!" cried Annette, pushing him. Already the crowd were tearing the fence to pieces with their hands,

But Vic made no reply, and at his touch the machine leaped forward, and none too soon, for already men

"We are well out of that!" said Vic coolly. "And now I will take you all home. Hello! They're messing up

McGinnis's things a bit," he added, as the sound of crashing glass came to their ears.

Through the quiet streets the car flew like a hunted thing, and in a very few minutes they were at the Rectory

"Right you are! Steady it is!" said Patricia springing from the car. Quietly but swiftly they got the woman and

"Hugh! Rupert!" said Adrien, speaking in a quiet voice. "Vic needs you out there. That is a wild car of yours,

Rupert," she added with a laugh. "It fairly flies." Gathering in her hands the men's hats and sticks, she hurried

"Cheerio!" cried Vic. "A lovely war is going on down at the McGinnis plant. Get in and let us plan a

campaign. First, to Police Headquarters, I suppose." As they flew through the streets Vic gave them in a few

They found the Chief of Police in his office. At their first word he was on the move.

"I was afraid of this thing when that fool parade started," he said. "Sergeant, send out the general alarm!"

"About twentyfive, all told. But they are all over the town. How many men are down there?"

"There are five hundred, at least; possibly a thousand, raging like wild bulls of Bashan."

As he spoke, another car came tearing up and Jack Maitland sprang from the wheel.

"All the good men we can get," said the Chief curtly. "But first we must get the Mayor here. Sergeant, get

In fifteen minutes Vic was back with the Mayor, helpless with nervous excitement.

"Get your men out, Chief!" he shouted, as he sprang from the car. "Get them out quick, arrest those devils

and lock 'em up! We'll show them a thing or two! Hurry up! What are you waiting for?"

"Mr. Mayor," Jack's clear, firm, cool voice arrested the Mayor's attention. "May I suggest that you swear in

some special constables? The Chief will need help and some of us here would be glad to assist."

"Yes! Yes! For God's sake, hurry up! Here's the clerk. How do you swear them in, clerk?"

"All right, Chief. Swear them! Swear them! For heaven's sake, swear them! Here, you, Maitlandand you,

With cool, swift efficiency born of his experience in the war, the Chief went on with his arrangements. In his

hands the process of swearing in a number of special constables was speedily accomplished. Meantime many

cars and a considerable number of men had gathered about the Police Headquarters.

"What is that light?" cried the Mayor suddenly, pointing in the direction of the foundry. "It's a fire! My God,

Chief, do you see that fire? Hurry up! Why don't you hurry up? They will burn the town down."

"All right, Mr. Mayor," said the Chief. "We shall be there in a few minutes now. Captain Maitland," said the

Chief, "I will take the men I have with me. Will you swear in all you can get within the next fifteen or twenty

minutes, and report to me at the foundry? Sergeant, you come along with me! I'm off!" So saying, the Chief

commandeered as many cars as were necessary, packed them with the members of his police force available

After the Chief had retired, Jack stood up in his car. "Any of you chaps want to get into this?" he said,

addressing the crowd. His voice was cheery and cool. At once a dozen voices responded. "Righto!" "Here

you are!" "Put me down!" In less than fifteen minutes, he had secured between forty and fifty men.

"I want all these cars," he said. "Get in, men. Hold on!" he shouted at a driver who had thrown in his clutch.

"Let no man move without orders! Any man disobeying orders will be arrested at once! Remember that no

guns are to be used, no matter what provocation may be given. Even if you are fired on, don't fire in return!

"Right you are! Drivers, fall in line. Keep close up. Now, Mr. Mayor, if you please."

Armed with axe handles from Stillwell Son's store, they set off for the scene of action. Arrived at the foundry

they found the maddest, wildest confusion raging along the street in front of the foundry, and in the foundry

yard which was crowded with men. The board fence along the front of the grounds had been torn down and

used as fagots to fire the foundry, which was blazing merrily in a dozen places. Everywhere about the blazing

building parties of men like hounds on the trail were hunting down strikebreakers and, on finding them,

Driving his car through the crowd, Maitland found his way to the Chief. In a few short, sharp sentences, the

Chief explained his plan of operations. "Clear the street in front, and hold it so! Then come and assist me in

"All right, sir!" replied Maitland, touching his hat as to a superior officer, and, wheeling his car, he led his

Meantime, the Fire Department had arrived upon the scene with a couple of engines, a hose reel and other

Swinging his car back through the crowd, Maitland made his way to the street, and set to work to clear the

space immediately in front of the foundry. Parking his cars at one end of the street, and forming his men up in

a single line, he began slowly to press back the crowd. It was slow and difficult work, for the crowd, unable

He called Victor to his side. "Get a man with you," he said, "and bring up two cars here."

"Come along, Rupert," cried Victor, seizing Stillwell, and together they darted back to where the cars stood.

"The Chief of Police wants this street cleared. So get back, please! We don't wish to hurt anyone. Now, get

back!" And lining up level with the cars, the special constables again began to press forward, using their axe

High up on a telegraph pole, his foot on one of the climbing spikes, was a man directing and encouraging the

attack. As he drew near, Maitland discovered this man to be no other than Tony, wildly excited and vastly

Like a cat, Maitland swarmed up the pole and coming to a level with Tony, struck him swiftly and

unexpectedly a single blow. It caught Tony on the chin. He swung off from the post, hung a moment, then

dropped quietly to the ground. As he fell, a woman's shriek rang out from the crowd and tearing her way

"Here you," said Jack, seizing a couple of men from the crowd, "get this man in my car. Now, Annette," he

continued, "don't make a fuss. Tony isn't hurt. We'll send him quietly home. Now then, men, let's have no

As he spoke, a huge man ran out from the crowd and, with an oath, flung himself at Maitland. But before he

came within striking distance, an axe handle flashed and the man went down like a log.

Over the heads of the advancing line, the axe handles swung, men dropping before them at every step. At

once the crowd began a hasty retreat, till the pressure upon the back lines made it impossible for those in

front to escape. From over the heads of the crowd rocks began to fly. A number of his specials were wounded

and for a moment the advance hung fire. Down through the crowd came a fireman, dragging with him a hose

"Hello, there!" called Maitland. The fireman looked up at him. Jack sprang down to his side. "I want to clear

"Well, I can try," said the fireman with a grin, and turning his hose toward the crowd, gave the signal for the

water, holding the nozzle at an angle slightly off the perpendicular. In a very few moments the crowd in the

rear found themselves under a deluge of falling water, and immediately they took to their heels, followed as

rapidly as possible by those in front. Then, levelling his nozzle, the fireman proceeded to wash back from

either side of the street those who had sought refuge there, and before many minutes had elapsed, the street

Leaving the street under guard, Maitland and his specials went to the help of the Chief, who was hampered

more or less by His Worship, the Mayor, and very considerably by Mr. McGinnis, who had meantime

arrived, mad with rage and demanding blood, and proceeded to clear up the foundry yard, and rescue the

strikebreakers who had taken refuge within the burning building and in holes and corners about the

premises. It was no light matter, but under the patient, goodnatured but resolute direction of the Chief, they

finally completed their job, rounding up the strikebreakers in a corner of the yard and driving off their

There remained still the most difficult part of their task. The strikebreakers must be got to the Police

Headquarters, the nearest available place of safety. For, on the street beyond the water line, the crowd was

still waiting in wrathful mood. The foundry was a wreck, but even this did not satisfy the fury of the strikers,

which had been excited by the presence of the strike breakers imported by McGinnis. For the more seriously

injured, ambulances were called, and these were safely got off under police guard to the General Hospital.

"The only safe place within reach," he said, "is Police Headquarters. And the shortest and best route is up the

hill to the left. But unfortunately, that is where the big crowd is gathered. There are not so many if we take

"Put the men in your cars, Chief," said McGinnis, "and smash your way through. They can't stop you."

"Oh, well, Mr. McGinnis," said the Chief, "it is easy to kill men. The trouble is they are no use to anybody

after they are dead. No, we must have no killing tonight. Tomorrow we'd be sorry for it."

"Let us drive up and see them," suggested the Mayor. "Let me talk to the boys. The boys know me."

The Chief did not appear to be greatly in love with the suggestion of the Mayor.

"Well," he said, "it would do no harm to drive up and have a look at them. We'll see how they are fixed,

anyway. I think, Mr. McGinnis, you had better remain on guard here. The Mayor and Captain Maitland will

Commandeering Rupert and his car, the Chief took his party at a moderate pace up the street, at the top of

which the crowd stood waiting in compact masses. Into these masses Rupert recklessly drove his car.

"Certainly not to hurt anyone," replied the Chief quietly. "The function of my police force is the protection of

The Chief stepped out among the strikers and stood in the glare of the headlights.

"Well, boys," he said pleasantly, "don't you think it is time to get home? I think you have done enough

damage tonight already. I am going to give you a chance to get away. We don't want to hurt anyone and we

Then the Mayor spoke up. "Men, this is a most disgraceful thing. Most deplorable. Think of the stain upon

"Now, boys," he continued, "can't we end this thing right here? Why can't you disperse quietly and go to your

"Men," said the Chief sharply, "you know me. I want this street cleared. I shall return here in five minutes

and anyone seeking to stop me will do so at his own risk. I have a hundred men down there and this time they

"We want them sulphurously described scabs," yelled a voice. "We ain't goin' to kill them, Chief. They're

lousy. We want to give 'em a bath." And a savage yell of laughter greeted the remark. On every hand the

word was taken up: "A bath! A bath! The river! The river!" The savage laughter of the crowd was even more

"All right, boys. We are coming back and we are going through. Leave this street clear or take your chances!

It's up to you!" So saying, the car was turned about and the party proceeded back to the foundry.

"There are a lot of soldiers in that crowd," said the Chief. "I don't like the looks of them. They are too steady.

Arrived at the foundry, the Chief paced up and down, pondering his problem. He called Maitland to his side.

"Some fifteen, I think. And there are five or six more parked down on the street."

"That would be enough," said the Chief. "I hate the idea of smashing through that crowd. You see, some of

"Why not try a ruse?" suggested Maitland. "Divide your party. You take five or six cars with constables up

the hill to that crowd there. Let me take the strikebreakers and the rest of the cars and make a dash to the

right. It's a longer way round but with the streets clear, we can arrive at Headquarters in a very few minutes."

"It's a good plan, Maitland," he said at length. "It's a good plan. And we'll put it through. I'll make the feint on

the left; you run them through on the right. I believe we can pull it off. Give me a few minutes to engage their

Everything came off according to plan. As the Chief's detachment of cars approached the solid mass of

Step by step the crowd gave way, pressed by the approaching cars. Suddenly, at a word of command, the

mass opened ranks and the Chief saw before him a barrier across the street, constructed of fencing torn from

neighbouring gardens, an upturned delivery wagon, a very ugly and very savagelooking field harrow

commandeered from a neighbouring market garden, with wickedlooking, protruding teeth and other debris

of varied material, but all helping to produce a most effective barricade. Silently the Chief stood for a few

moments, gazing at the obstruction. A curious, ominous growl of laughter ran through the mob. Then came a

As with one movement his party of constables were on the ground and lined up in front of their cars, with

their clubs and axe handles ready for service. Still the mob waited in ominous silence. The Chief drew his

"I am going to clear away this barricade. The first man that offers to prevent me I shall shoot on the spot."

"I wouldn't do that, Chief," said a voice quietly from the rear. "There are others, you know. Listen."

"Sold, by thunder!" said the man. Then he yelled: "We'll get 'em yet. Come on, boys, to the main street."

Like a deer, he doubled down a side street, followed by the crowd, yelling, cursing, swearing deep oaths.

"Let 'em go," said the Chief. "Maitland's got through by this time." As he spoke, two shots rang out, followed

"Just as well you didn't get through, Chief," said the voice of the previous speaker. "Might've got hurt, eh?"

Meanwhile, Maitland, with little or no opposition, had got his cars through the crowd, which as a matter of

fact were unaware of the identity of the party until after they had broken through.

Their way led by a circuitous route through quiet back streets, approaching Police Headquarters from the

rear. A tenminute run brought them to a short side street which led past the Maitland Mills, at the entrance

to which they saw under the glare of the arc lights over the gateway a crowd blocking their way.

"Now, what in thunder is this? Hold up a minute," said Maitland to his driver. "Let me take a look." He ran

forward to the main entrance. There he found the gateway, which stood a little above the street level, blocked

by a number of his own men, some of whom he recognised as members of his hockey team, and among them,

McNish. Out in the street among the crowd stood Simmons, standing on a barrel, lashing himself into a

"McNish, you here?" said Maitland sharply. "What is it, peace or war? Speak quick!"

"A'm haudden these fules back fra the mill," answered McNish with a scowl. Then, dropping into his book

English, he continued bitterly: "They have done enough tonight already. They have wrecked our cause for

"They are some of McGinnis's men and they are mad at the way you handled them over yonder. They are

bound to get in here. They are only waiting for the rest of the crowd. Yon eejit doesn't know what he is

Maitland's mind worked swiftly. "McNish, listen!" he said. "I am in a deuce of a fix. I have the scabs in those

"McNish, listen. I'll run them into the office by the side gate down the street. Keep them busy here. Let that

"Who is this? It's Sam, by all that's holy! Why, Sam, you are the very chap I want. Listen, boy. Slip around to

the side door and open it wide till I bring in some cars. Then shut and bar it quick." Carefully he repeated his

"I'm awful scared, Captain," replied the boy, his teeth chattering, "but I'll try it."

"All right, Captain. I'll do it!" And Sam disappeared, crawling under the gate, while Maitland slipped back to

his cars and passed the word among the drivers. "Keep close up and stop for nothing!"

They had almost made the entry when some man hanging on the rear of the crowd caught sight of them.

"Scabs! Scabs!" cried the man, dashing after the cars. But Sam was equal to his task, and as the last car

Disposing of the strikebreakers in the office, Maitland and his guard of specials passed outside to the main

gate and took their places beside McNish and his guard. Before them the mob had become a mad, yelling,

frenzied thing, bereft of power of thought, swaying under the fury of their passion like tree tops blown by

"Keep them going somehow, McNish," said Maitland. "The Chief won't be long now."

McNish climbed up upon the fence and, held in place there by two specials, lifted his hand for silence. But

Simmons, who all too obviously had fallen under the spell of the bootleggers, knew too well the peril of his

"Don't listen to 'im. 'E's a traitor, a blank and doubleblank traitor. 'E sold us (h)up, 'e 'as. Don't listen to 'im."

Like a maniac he spat out the words from his foamflecked lips, waving his arms madly about his head.

Relief came from an unexpected source. Sam Wigglesworth, annoyed at Simmons's persistence and

observing that McNish, to whom as a labour leader he felt himself bound, regarded the orating and

gesticulating Simmons with disfavour, reached down and, pulling a sizable club from beneath the bottom of a

fence, took careful aim and, with the accuracy of the baseball pitcher that he was, hurled it at the swaying

figure upon the barrel. The club caught Simmons fair in the mouth, who, being, none too firmly set upon his

pedestal, itself affording a wobbling foothold, landed spatting and swearing in the arms of his friends below.

With the mercurial temper characteristic of a crowd, they burst into a yell of laughter.

Echoing the laughter, McNish once more held up his hand. "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes," he said in his

deepest and most solemn tone. The phenomenal absurdity of a joke from the solemn Scotchman again tickled

"Men, listen tae me!" cried McNish. "Ye mad a bad mistake the nicht. In fact, ye're a lot of fules. And those

who led ye are worse, for they have lost us the strike, if that is any satisfaction tae ye. And now ye want to do

another fule thing. Ye're mad just because ye didn't know enough to keep out of the wet."

But at this point, a man fighting his way from the rear of the crowd, once more raised the cry "Scabs!"

"Keep quiet yourself, McNish," replied the man, still pushing his way toward the front.

"McNish," persisted Tony in a grave and perfectly courteous tone, "you're a liar. The scabs are in that office."

"Men, listen to me," pleaded McNish. "A'll tell ye about the scabs. They are in the office yonder. But I have

Captain Maitland's word o' honour that they will be shipped out of town by the first train."

"Officer," said Maitland sharply to a uniformed policeman standing by his side, "arrest that man!" pointing to

The policeman drew his baton, took two strides forward, seized Tony by the back of the neck and drew him

in. An angry yell went up from the mob. Maitland felt a hand upon his arm. Looking down, he saw to his

"Oh, Jack," she pleaded, "don't let Tony be arrested. He broke away from us. Let me take him. He will come

"Rescue! Rescue!" shouted the crowd, rushing the cordon of police lining the street.

"Kill him! Kill the traitor!" yelled Simmons, struggling through and waving unsteadily the revolver in his

Simultaneously with the shot, a woman's scream rang out and Annette fell back into Maitland's arms. A

Annette opened her eyes and, looking up into Maitland's face, whispered: "He didn't get you, Jack. I'm so

Meanwhile McNish, with her hand caught in his, was sobbing: "God, have mercy! She's deed! She's deed!"

Annette again opened her eyes. "Poor Malcolm," she whispered. "Dear Malcolm." Then, closing her eyes

again, quietly as a tired child, she sank into unconsciousness. The big Scotchman, still kissing her hand,

"She is dead. The girl is dead." The word passed from lip to lip among the crowd, which still held motionless

"A'll tak her," said McNish, and, stopping down, he lifted her tenderly in his arms, stood for a moment facing

the crowd, and then in a voice of unutterable sadness that told of a broken heart, he said: "Ye've killed her.

Ye've killed the puir lassie. Are ye content?" And passed in through the gate, holding the motionless form

As he passed with his pathetic burden, the men on guard at the gate bared their heads. Immediately on every

hand throughout the crowd men took off their hats and stood silent till he had disappeared from their sight. In

the presence of that poignant grief their rage against him ceased, swept out of their hearts by an

In one swift instant a door had opened from another and unknown world, and through the open door a

Presence, majestic, imperious, had moved in upon them, withering with His icy breath their hot passions,

In the Rectory the night was one long agony of fear and anxiety. Adrien had taken Mrs. Egan and her babe

home in a taxi as soon as circumstances would warrant, and then, lest they should alarm their mother, they

After seeing their mother safely bestowed, they slipped downstairs, and, muffling the telephone, sat waiting

for news, slipping out now and then to the street, one at a time, to watch the glare of the fire in the sky and to

At length from Victor came news of the tragedy. With whitening face, Adrien took the message. Not for

"Listen, Victor," she said, speaking in a quick, firm voice. "It is almost impossible to get a nurse in time and

quite impossible to get one skilled in this sort of case. Come for me. I shall be ready and shall take charge.

"Oh, what is it, Adrien?" said Patricia, wringing her hands. "Is it Jack? Or Victor?"

Adrien caught her by the shoulders: "Patricia, I want your help. No talk! Come with me. I will tell you as I

Swiftly, with no hurry or flurry, Adrien changed into her uniform, packed her bag, giving Patricia meantime

"And to think it might have been Jack," said Patricia, wringing her hands. "Oh, dear, dear Annette. Can't I

"Patricia, listen to me, child. The first thing is keep your head. You can help me greatly. You will take charge

here and later, perhaps, you can help me in other ways. Meantime you must assume full responsibility for

The girl stood gazing with wideopen blue eyes at her sister. Then quietly she answered:

"I'll do my best, Adrien. There's Vic." She rushed swiftly downstairs. Suddenly she stopped, steadied her

pace, and received him with a calm that surprised that young man beyond measure.

"Topping," said Vic. "What a brick she is! Dr. Meredith didn't know where to turn for a nurse. The hospital is

full. Every nurse is engaged. So much sickness, you know, in town. Ah, here she is. You are a

"Leave me!" cried Patricia. "Nonsense, Adrien, I shall be quite all right. Only," she added, clasping her

When the ambulance arrived at the Maitland home, Adrien was at the door. All was in readinesshot water,

McNish carried Annette up to the room prepared for her, laid her down and stood in dumb grief looking

"Come," she said. And, taking his arm, led him downstairs. "Stay here," she said. "I will bring you word as

An hour later she returned, and found him sitting in the exact position in which she had left him. He

apparently had not moved hand or foot. At her entrance he looked up, eager, voiceless.

"She is resting," said Adrien. "The bullet is extracted. It had gone quite through to the outer skina clean

"How long," said McNish, passing his tongue over his dry lips, "how long does the doctor say"

"Yes. But she must be kept quite quiet. The very least excitement might hurt her."

"You will let me see heronce morebefore sheshe" He paused, his lips quivering, his great blue

"Ma God!" he whispered, falling on his knees and catching her hand in both of his. "Ma God! Dinna lee tae

"Believe me, I would not," said Adrien, while the great eyes seemed to drag the truth from her very soul.

"The doctor says nothing, but I have seen many cases of bullet wounds, and I have hope."

"Hope," he whispered. "Hope! Ma God! hope!" His hands went to his face and his great frame shook with

A shudder passed through him. "Eat?" he said, as if he had never heard the word.

"Ay. A'll eat." Like a man under a mesmeric spell, he went through the motions of eating. His mind was far

"A would like to send word to ma mither," he said. "She disna ken onythingabootaboot Annetteaboot

"I shall get word to her. I know the very man. I shall phone the Reverend Murdo Matheson."

"Now, then," said Adrien, placing him in an easy chair, "you must rest there. Remember, I am keeping

With the promise that he would do his best to rest, she left him sitting bolt upright in his chair.

Toward morning, Maitland appeared, weary and haggard. Adrien greeted him with tender solicitude; it was

"Oh, Adrien," said Maitland, with a great sight of relief, "you don't know how good it is to see you here. It

"I shall get you some breakfast immediately," she answered in a calm, matteroffact voice. "You are done

out. Your father has come in and has gone to lie down. McNish is in the library."

"And Annette?" said Maitland. He was biting his lips to keep them from quivering. "Is she still"

"She is resting. The maid is watching beside her. Dear Jack," she uttered with a quick rush of sympathy, "I

A quick light leaped into his eyes. "Hope, did you say? Oh, thank the good Lord." His voice broke and he

turned away from her. "You know," he said, coming back, "she gave her life for me. Oh, Adrien, think of it!

She threw herself in the way of death for me. She covered me with her own body." He sat down suddenly as

Adrien went to him and put her arm round his shouldershe might have been his mother. "Dear Jack," she

"Oh, Adrien," he said, "it is good to have you here. I do need, we all need you so."

Gently she put his arms away from her. "And now," she said briskly, "I am going to take charge of you, Jack,

"Only give me a chance to do anything for you," he said, "or for anyone you care for."

There was a puzzled expression on Adrien's face as she turned away. But she asked no explanation.

"My first order, then," she said, "is this: you must have your breakfast and then go to bed for an hour or two."

"Some of them can't wait," he replied. "I have just got Tony to bed. The doctor has sent him to sleep. His

father and mother are watching him. Oh, Adrien, that is a sad home. It was a terrible experience for me. Tony

I must see when he wakes and the poor old father and mother will be over here early. I must be ready for

"Very well, Jack," said Adrien in a prompt, businesslike tone. "You have two clear hours for sleep. You must

sleep for the sake of others, you understand. I promise to wake you in good time."

"Oh, this is my job," she said lightly. "I shall be relieved in the afternoon, the doctor has promised."

When the Employers' Defence Committee met next morning there were many haggard faces among its

members. In the large hall outside the committee room a considerable number of citizens, young and old, had

gathered and with them the Mayor, conversing in voices tinged with various emotions, anxiety, pity, wrath,

In the committee room Mr. Farrington was in the chair. No sooner had the meeting been called to order than

"Gentlemen, I felt sure none of us would wish to transact ordinary business this morning. I was sure, too, that

in the very distressing circumstances under which we meet you would feel as I do the need of guidance and

help. I therefore took the liberty of inviting the deputation from the Ministerial Association which waited on

us the other day to join us in our deliberation. Mr. Haynes is away from town, but Dr. Templeton and Mr.

Matheson have kindly consented to be present. They will be here in half an hour's time."

A general and hearty approval of his action was expressed, after which the Chairman invited suggestions as

to the course to be pursued. But no one was ready with a suggestion. Somehow the outlook upon life was

different this morning, and readjustment of vision appeared to be necessary. No man felt himself qualified to

From this dilemma they were relieved by a knock upon the door and the Mayor appeared.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I have no wish to intrude, but a great many of our citizens are in the larger hall. They

are anxious to be advised upon the present trying situation. It has been suggested that your committee might

After a few moments' consideration, the Mayor's proposition was accepted and the committee adjourned to

The Mayor's tongue was not so ready this morning. He explained the circumstances of the meeting and

thanked the committee for yielding to his request. He was ready to receive any suggestions as to what the

The silence which followed was broken by Mr. McGinnis, who arose and, in a voice much shaken, he

"Can anyone tell us just what is the last word concerning the young girl this morning?"

Mr. Maitland replied: "Before I left the house, the last report was that she was resting quietly and, while the

doctor was not able to offer any hope of her recovery, he ventured to say that he did not quite despair. And

"Thank God for that," said McGinnis, and leaning his head upon his hand, he sat with his eyes fixed upon the

Again the Mayor asked for suggestions, but no one in the audience appeared willing to assume the

At length Rupert Stillwell arose. He apologised for speaking in the presence of older men, but something had

"It occurs to me," he said, "that one thing at least should be immediately done. Those responsible for the

disgraceful riot of last evening, and I mean more than the actual ringleaders in the affair, should be brought to

justice." He proceeded to elaborate upon the enormity of the crime, the danger to the State of mob rule, the

necessity for stern measures to prevent the recurrence of such disorders. He suggested a special citizens'

His words appeared to meet the approval of a large number of those present, especially of the younger men.

While he was speaking, the audience appeared to be greatly relieved to see Dr. Templeton and the Reverend

Murdo Matheson walk in and quietly take their seats. They remembered, many of them, how at a recent

similar gathering these gentlemen had advised a procedure which, if followed, would have undoubtedly

Giving a brief account of the proceedings of the meeting to the present point, the Mayor suggested that Dr.

"As I came in this room, I caught the words of my young friend, who suggested a committee for the

preservation of public order. May I suggested that the preservation of public order in the community is

something that can be entrusted to no committee? It rests with the whole community. We have all made

mistakes, we are constantly making mistakes. We have yielded to passion, and always to our sorrow and hurt.

We have vainly imagined that by the exercise of force we can settle strife. No question of right or justice is

settled by fighting, for, after the fighting is done, the matter in dispute remains to be settled. We have tried

that way and today we are fronted with disastrous failure. I have come from a home over which the shadow

of death hangs low. There a father and mother lie prostrate with sorrow, agonising for the life of their child.

But a deeper shadow lies there, a shadow of sin, for the sting of death is sin. A brother torn with

selfcondemnation, his heart broken with grief for his sister, who loved him better than her own life, lies

under that shadow of sin. But, gentlemen, can any of us escape from that shadow? Do we not all share in that

sin? For we all have a part in the determining of our environment. Can we not, by God's grace, lift that

shadow at least from our lives? Let us turn our faces from the path of strife toward the path of peace, for the

pathway of right doing and of brotherly kindness is the only path to peace in this world."

The Chairman then called upon the Reverend Murdo Matheson to express his mind. But at this point, the

whole audience were galvanised into an intensity of confused emotion by the entrance of the Executive of the

Allied Unions, led by McNish himself. Simmons alone was absent, being at that moment, with some half

dozen others, in the care of the police. Silently the Executive Committee walked to the front and found seats,

McNish alone remaining standing. Grey, gaunt, holloweyed, he met with steady gaze the eyes of the

audience, some of them aflame with hostile wrath, for in him they recognised the responsible head of the

Without apology or preface McNish began: "I am here seeking peace," he said, in his hoarse, hard, guttural

voice. "I have made mistakes. Would I could suffer for them alone, but no, others must suffer with me. I have

only condemnation for the outrages of last night. We repudiate them, we lament them. We tried to prevent

them, but human passion and circumstances were too strong for us. We would undo the illwould to God

could undo the ill. How gladly would I suffer all that has come to others." His deep, harsh voice shook under

the stress of his emotion. He lifted his head: "I cannot deny my cause," he continued, his voice ringing out

clear. "Our cause was right, but the spirit was wrong." He paused a few moments, evidently gathering

strength to hold his voice steady. "Yes, the spirit was wrong and this day is a black day to me. We come to

Again he paused, his strong stern face working strangely under the stress of the emotions which he was

fighting to subdue. "We suggest a committee of three, with powers to arbitrate, and we name as our man one

who till recently was one of our Union, a man of fair and honest mind, a man without fear and with a heart

His words, and especially the name of the representative of the labour unions produced an overwhelming

effect upon the audience. No sooner had he finished than the Reverend Murdo Matheson took the floor. He

spoke no economics. He offered no elaborate argument for peace. In plain, simple words he told of

"Like one whom I feel it an honour to call my father," he began, bowing toward Dr. Templeton, "I, too, have

made a visit this morning. Not to a home, but to a place the most unlike a home of any spot in this sad world,

a jail. Seven of our fellowcitizens are confined there, six of them boys, mere boys, dazed and penetrated

with sorrow for their follythey meant no crimeI am not relieving them of the blamethe other, a man,

embittered with a long, hard fight against poverty, injustice and cruel circumstance in another land, with

distorted views of life, crazed by drink, committed a crime which this morning fills him with horror and grief.

Late last night I was sent to the home of one of my people. There I found an aged lady, carrying with a brave

heart the sorrows and burdens of nearly seventy years, waiting in anxiety and grief and fear for her son, who

was keeping vigil at what may well be the deathbed of the girl he loves. You have just heard his plea for

peace. Some of you are inclined to lay the blame for the ills that have fallen upon us upon certain classes and

individuals in this community. They have their blame and they must bear the responsibility. But, gentlemen, a

juster estimate of the causes of these ills will convince us that they are the product of our civilisation and for

these things we must all accept our share of responsibility. More, we must seek to remove them from among

us. They are an affront to our intelligence, an insult to our holy religion, an outrage upon the love of our

brother man and our Father, God. Let us humbly, resolutely seek the better way, the way we have set before

us this morning, the way of right doing, of brotherly kindness and of brotherly love which is the way of

It was a subdued company of men that listened to his appeal. In silence they sat looking straight before them

with faces grave and frowning, as is the way with men of our race when deeply stirred.

It was a morning of dramatic surprises, but none were so startling, none so dramatic as the speech of

"This is a day for confessions," he said, "and I am here to make one for myself. I have been a fighter, too

much of a fighter, all my life, and I have often suffered for it. I suffered a heavy loss last night and today I

am sick of fighting. But I have found this: that you can't fight men in this world without fighting women and

children, too. God knows I have no war with the old, grey haired lady the Padre has just told us about. I

have no war with that brokenhearted father and mother. And I have no war with Annette Perrotte, dear girl,

God preserve her." At this point, McGinnis's command quite forsook him. His voice utterly broke down,

while the tears ran down his rugged fighting face. "I am done with fighting," he cried. "They have named

Captain Maitland. We know him for a straight man and a white man. Let me talk with Captain Jack Maitland,

and let us get together with the Padre there," pointing to the Reverend Murdo Matheson, "and in an hour we

In a tumult of approval the suggestion was accepted. It was considered a perfectly fitting thing, though

afterwards men spoke of it with something of wonder, that the Mayor should have called upon the Reverend

Doctor to close the meeting with prayer, and that he should do so without making a speech.

That same afternoon the three men met to consider the matter submitted to them. Captain Jack Maitland laid

before the committee his figures and his charts setting forth the facts in regard to the cost of living and the

wage scale during the past five years. In less than an hour they had agreed upon a settlement. There was to be

an increase of wages in keeping with the rise of the cost of living, with the pledge that the wage scale should

follow the curb of the cost of living should any change occur within the year. The hours of labour were

shortened from ten to nine for a day's work, with the pledge that they should be governed by the effect of the

change upon production and general conditions. And further, that a Committee of Reference should be

appointed for each shop and craft, to which all differences should be submitted. To this committee also were

It was a simple solution of the difficulty and upon its submission to the public meeting called for its

consideration, it was felt that the comment of the irrepressible Victor Forsythe was not entirely unfitting:

"Of course!" said Victor, cheerfully. "It is the only thing. Why didn't the Johnnies think of it before, or why

The committee, however, did more than settle the dispute immediately before them. They laid before the

public meeting and obtained its approval for the creation of a General Board of Industry, under whose

guidance the whole question of the industrial life of the community should be submitted to intelligent study

For one long week of seven long days and seven long nights Annette fought out her gallant fight for life,

fought and won. Throughout the week at her side Adrien waited day and night, except for a few hours

snatched for rest, when Patricia took her place, for there was not a nurse to be had in all that time and Patricia

Every day and in the darkest days all day long, it seemed to Adrien, McNish haunted the Maitland

homefor he had abandoned all pretence of workhis gaunt, grey face and hollow eyes imploring a word

But it was chiefly to Jack throughout that week that Adrien's heart went out in compassionate pity, for in his

face there dwelt a misery so complete, so voiceless that no comfort of hers appeared to be able to bring relief.

Often through those days did Annette ask to see him, but the old doctor was relentless. There must be

absolute quiet and utter absence of all excitement. No visitors were to be permitted, especially no men

But the day came when the ban was lifted and with smiling face, Adrien came for Jack.

"You have been such a good boy," she cried gaily, "that I am going to give you a great treat. You are to come

"Here he is, Annette," cried Adrien. "Now, remember, no fussing, no excitement, and just one quarter of an

"Oh, Annette, my dear, dear girl," he cried in a breaking voice as he knelt down by her side and took her hand

So much reached Adrien's ears as she closed the door and passed to her room with step weary and lifeless.

"Why, Adrien," cried her sister, who was waiting to relieve her, "you are like a ghost! You poor dear. You are

"I believe I am, Patricia," said Adrien. "I believe I shall rest awhile." She lay down on the bed, her face turned

toward the wall, and so remained till Patricia went softly away, leaving her, as she thought, to sleep.

"Poor Adrien is really used up," she said. "She has a deathly look in her face. Just the same look as she had

"The night of the hockey dance? Do I remember? A ghastly nighta horrid nighta night of unspeakable

As Vic was speaking, Patricia kept her eyes steadily upon him with a pondering, puzzled look.

"What is it, Patricia? I know you want to ask me something. Is it about that night?"

"Not in the very least. I shall doubtless enjoy it after it's out. Painless dentistry effect. Go to it, Patsy."

"It is very serious, Vic. I always think people in books are so stupid. They come near to the truth and then just

"Well, Vic," said Patricia with an air of one taking a desperate venture, "why did you not give Adrien her

note that night? It would have saved her and me such pain. I cried all night long. I had so counted on a dance

with Jackand then never a word from him. But he did send a note. He told me so. I never told Adrien that,

for she forbade me, oh, so terribly, never to speak of it again. Why didn't you give her or me the note, Vic?"

All the laughter died out of Victor's face. "Pat, I lied to you once, only once, and that lie has cost me many an

hour's misery. But now I shall tell you the truth and the whole truth." And he proceeded to recount the

tribulations which he endured on the night of the hockey dance. "I did it to help you both out, Pat. I thought I

could make it easy for you. It was all a sheer guess, but it turned out to be pretty well right."

The girl looked straight into Vic's honest eyes. "Yes, Vic," she said, "I believe you. But Jack sent a note."

Vic sprang to his feet. "Goodbye, Watson. You shall hear from me within an hour."

At the door he overtook Jack. "Aha! The first link in the chain. Hello, old chap, a word with you. May I get

"Now then, about that note. Nothing like diplomacy. The night of the hockey dance you sent a note to a

"A note was sent by you," said Vic impressively, "through some agency at present unknown. So far, so

"Unknown? What rubbish. I sent a note by Sam Wigglesworth, who gave it to some of you for Adrien. What

As they approached the entrance to the Maitland Mills Vic saw a stream of employees issue from the gate.

"Nothing more at present," he said. "This is my corner. Let me out. I am in an awful hurry, Jack."

He took his place at the corner which commanded the entrance to the Maitland works. "Here I shall wait,

abstractedly gazing at the passersby, until the unhappy Sam makes his appearance," mused Vic to himself.

From among the employees as they poured from the gate Victor pounced upon his victim and bore him away

"Sam," he said, "it may be you are about to die, so tell me the truth. I hate to take your young life." Sam

grinned at his captor, unafraid. "Cast your mind back to the occasion of the hockey dance. You remember

"Ah! A dollar. Yes, you did, for delivering a note given you by Captain Jack Maitland," hissed Vic, gripping

"Of course I did. Didn't Captain Jack give me a dollar for it? I didn't want his dollar."

"The last question, Sam," said Vic solemnly, "to whom did you deliver the note?"

"Huhhuh, that's his name. That's him now," cried Sam. "In that Hudson carseetherequick!"

"Boy," said Vic solemnly, "you have saved your life. Here's a dollar. Now, remember, not a word about this."

"Now then, what?" said Vic to himself. "This thing has got past the joke stage. I must do some thinking. Shall

I tell Pat or not? By Jove, by Jove, that's not the question. When that young lady gets those big eyes of hers

on me the truth will flow in a limpid stream. I must make sure of my ground. Meantime I shall do the

That afternoon Annette had another visitor. Her nurse, though somewhat dubious as to the wisdom of this

indulgence, could not bring herself to refuse her request that McNish should be allowed to see her.

"Ah, Jack. He could not tire me," she murmured. "He makes so much of what I did. How gladly would I do it

again. Jack is wonderful to me. Wonderful to me," she repeated softly. Her lip trembled and she lay back

"Yes, Adrien, I really want to see him. I am sure he will do me good. You will let him come, please?" The

"Is he here?" echoed Adrien scornfully. "Has he been anywhere else the last seven days?"

"Poor Malcolm," said the girl, the tenderness in her voice becoming protective. "I have been very bad to him,

and he loves me so. Oh, he is just mad about me!" A little smile stole round the corners of her mouth.

"Oh, you needn't tell me that, Annette," said Adrien. "It is easy for you to make men mad about you."

McNish went toward the door of the sick room as if approaching a holy shrine, walking softly and reverently.

He paused at the door, turned about and looked at her with grave eyes. "Miss Templeton," he said in slow,

"Don't keep her waiting, man," said Adrien, waving him in. Then McNish went in and she closed the door

"There are only a few great moments given to men," she said, "and this is one of them for those two happy

In ten days Annette was pronounced quite fit to return to her family. But Patricia resolved that they should

have a grand fete in the Maitland home before Annette should leave it. She planned a motor drive in the cool

of the day, and in the evening all their special friends who had been brought together through the tragic

events of the past weeks should come to bring congratulations and mutual felicitations for the recovery of the

Patricia was arranging the guest list, in collaboration with Mr. Maitland and the assistance of Annette and

"Of course!" she cried. "Although I don't know any old ones. That will mean all the fathers and Vic, Jack,

"Ah! It has come to Malcolm, then?" murmured Vic. "Certainly, why not? He loves me to call him Malcolm.

And then we will have Mr. Matheson. And we must have Mr. McGinnisthey have become such great

friends. And I should like to have the Mayor, he is so funny. But perhaps he wouldn't fit. He DOES take up a

"And for ladies," continued Patricia, "just the relativesall the mothers and the sisters. That's enough."

"Oh, if you want any other ladies, Vic," said Patricia severely, "we shall be delighted to invite them for you."

"Me? Other ladies? What could I do with other ladies? Is not my young life one long problem as it is? Ah!

Speaking of problems, that reminds me. I have a communication to make to you young lady." Vic's manner

suggested a profound and deadly mystery. He led Patricia away from the others. "I have something to tell

you, Patricia," he said, abandoning all badinage. "I hate to do it but it is right for you, for myself, for Adrien,

"Yes, Patricia. That note was given by Jack to Sam Wigglesworth, who gave it to Rupert Stillwell."

"Ahahat least, he didn't deliver it. No, Patricia, we are telling the whole truth. He didn't forget. You

remember he asked about Jack. There, I have given you all I know. Make of it what you like."

"Then I'll tell her tonight," said Patricia. "I want it all over before our fete, which is day after tomorrow."

Rupert Stillwell had been in almost daily attendance upon Adrien during the past two weeks, calling for her

almost every afternoon with his car. The day following he came for her according to his custom. Upon

Adrien's face there dwelt a gentle, tender, happy look as if her heart were singing for very joy. That look

upon her face drove from Rupert all the hesitation and fear which had fallen upon him during these days of

her ministry to the wounded girl. He took a sudden and desperate resolve that he would put his fate to the test.

"No, Rupert," she said. "I cannot. I thought for a little while, long ago, that perhaps I might, but now I know

"You were thinking of that note of Jack Maitland's which I sent you last night?"

"I felt awfully mean about that, Adrien. I feel mean still. I thought that as you had learned all about it from

"Adrien, tell me," Rupert's voice shook with the intensity of his passion, "is there no hope?"

"Someone," continued Rupert, his voice trembling with rage, "someone who distributes his affections."

At the door on their return Jack met them. A shadow fell upon his face, but with a quick resolve, he shouted a

"Hello, Adrien," he cried, as she came running up the steps. "You apparently have had a lovely drive."

Jack turned from her with a quick sharp movement, went down the steps and offering his hand to Rupert,

"Eh? What? Oh, all right," said Rupert in a dazed sort of way. But he didn't come into the house.

Never was there such a day in June, never such a fete. The park never looked so lovely and never a party so

gay disported themselves in it and gayest of them all was Adrien. All day long it seemed as if her very soul

were laughing for joy. And all day long she kept close beside Jack, chaffing him, laughing at him, rallying

Then home they all came to supper, where waited them McNish and his mother with Mr. McGinnis, for they

"Ma certie, lassie! But ye're a sight for sare een. What hae ye bin daein tae her, Mr. Jack," said Mrs. McNish,

"Oh, Mrs. McNish," cried the girl, rippling with joyous laughter, "he won't even look at me. He justwhat

do you sayglowers, that's itglowers at me. And we have had such a wonderful day. Come, Jack, get

She caught her arm through his and laughing shamelessly into his eyes, drew him away.

"I say, Adrien," said Jack, driven finally to desperation and drawing her into the quiet of the library, "I am

awfully glad you are so happy and all that, but I don't see the necessity of rubbing it into a fellow. You know

how I feel. I am glad for you andI am glad for Rupert. Or, at least I told him so."

"But, Jack," said the girl, her eyes burning with a deep inner glow, "Rupert has nothing to do with it. Rupert,

"Jack," she said softly, turning toward him and standing very near him, "you remember the note you sent

"And you remember, too, how horrid I was to you the next time I saw you? How horrid? Oh, Jack, it broke

my heart." Her voice faltered a moment and her shining eyes grew dim. "I was so horrid to you."

"Oh, no," said Jack coolly, "you were kind. You were very kind and sisterly, as I remember."

"Jack," she said and her breath began to come hurriedly, "I got that note yesterday. Only yesterday, Jack."

"Yes, only yesterday. And I read it, Jack," she added with a happy laugh. "And in that note, Jack, you

"Jack, you will kill me. Won't you hurry? Oh, I can't wait a moment longer. You said you were going to tell

me something, Jack." She stood radiant, breathless and madly alluring. "And oh, Jack, won't you tell me?"

"Oh, Jack, tell me quick," she said, swaying toward him. And while she clung to him taking his kisses on her