gainst anonymous
letters; they can only ignore them.

She touched her horse again. She was now in feverish haste to get
home. She took the turn of the road which presently brought her in the
vicinity of the shops. It was practically in ruins. The courtyard
walls were all down, the building itself was totally empty of ore or
machinery. Bennington had disposed of these to Pennsylvanian concerns.
Patty rode up in time to see half a dozen urchins throwing stones at
the few window-panes that were still unbroken. She dispersed them
angrily, and they gathered at the side of the road, open-mouthed and
wide-eyed at the picture of this avenging angel.

"How dare you throw stones at those windows? How dare you?" she cried
passionately.

After a while one of the lads found his voice.

"Why, nobody's in it. The man what owns it tored the insides outen it.
'Tain't no harm what we're doin'. Hey, fellers?"

"Naw. The cops don't say nothin'. An' my old man used to work there."

She saw that they were no more than ordinary boys to whom the panes of
glass in a deserted building were legitimate prey.

"So your father was one of the strikers?" said Patty, her lips
thinning. "Why did he strike?"

"I don't know; 'cause the others struck, I guess. They was an English
lobster workin' without bein' in my old man's union. Mebbe that was
it. Anyhow, we don't care; the old man's got another job."

With this the boys climbed the fence and moved across the field,
mutely rebellious, like puppies baffled in their pursuit of a cat.

Patty's eyes, moist and shining of a sudden, roved over the grim
ruins. Sparrows were chattering on the window ledges and swallows were
diving into the black mouths of the towering chimneys. The memory of
her father swelled her heart near to bursting. She could see his
iron-grey head bending over the desk; she could hear his rough but
kindly voice. Why, whenever he entered the house his splendid physical
energy seemed to radiate health and cheerfulness, infecting all those
about him. She could see the men, too, moving in the glow of ruddy
light; she could see again the brilliant sparks flying from under the
thundering trip-hammers, the cyclopean eyes that glared up at heaven
at night, the great rumbling drays, the freight moving to and from the
spur. Now there was no sound; nothing but silence, with the suggestion
of a tomb.

The end of the strike had been a nine days' wonder, for it proved that
there had actua