to see a
decent man like our newspaper friend on the enemy's side."

"If I am on the enemy's side, Mr. Morrissy, it's because I'm a friend
of every man here, save one," significantly. "You men will vote a
strike. I can see that. But you'll regret it to your last day. I've
nothing more to say. I helped you once when old man Bennington was
alive, but I guess you've forgotten it." Ben sat down in silence.

"We'll proceed with the voting," said Morrissy.

Half an hour later there was a cheer. The men would go out Monday, if
the demands of the committee were not acceded to. The meeting broke
up, and many of the men flocked into the near-by saloons. Morrissy
approached Ben, who had waited for him. No one was within earshot.

"What the hell do you mean by saying you were paid less than I was?"
he said, his jaw protruding at an ugly angle.

"I mean, Morrissy," answered Ben fearlessly, "that you had better move
carefully in the future. If I were you, I wouldn't accept any
unstamped envelopes in Herculaneum It would be a good plan to go to
some other town for that."

"Why, damn you!" Morrissy raised his fist.

"Stay where you are," warned Ben, seizing a camp-chair "or I'll break
your head. Listen to me. I'm starting out from this night on to break
you, and, by God, I'll do it before the year is over. This is your
last strike, so make the most of it. You were at Schmuck's the other
night, you and McQuade. There was a friend of mine on the other side
of the partition. Unfortunately this friend was alone. I haven't got
any proofs, but I'll get them."

Morrissy became yellower than his diamonds. Ben flung aside his chair
and left the hall. He went straight to Martin's saloon. He found Bill
Osborne alone at a table.

"Will they strike, Ben?" he asked in a rough whisper.

"Yes. I thought I might influence them, Bill, but I've only made an
ass of myself. Two whiskies," he ordered, "and make one of them stiff.
I told Morrissy."

"You didn't mention my name, Ben? Don't say you told him that I was on
the other side of the partition!" Bill's eyes nearly stood out of his
head.

"I told him nothing. How'd you happen to land in Schmuck's saloon,
anyhow? Why didn't you telephone me when you heard Morrissy come in?"

"Oh. Ben, I was drunk! If I hadn't been so drunk!" Bill's eyes
overflowed remorsefully.

Ben swore.

"And say, Ben, that fellow Bolles is back in town. He was in here a
few minutes ago, drunk as a lord. He flashe