sauntered
into the square and their presence was reassuring. He stood up and began
to lecture them.

"And them's the kind of lord dukes that's running this country
to-day--own it and run it," growled a slouchy fellow who stood near the
tall young man. "They ain't willing to give a poor man a show."

"He has just offered you a show--all of you," stated the young man.

"Yes, a Guinea job for white men."

"You're picking a poor excuse for being a loafer, my friend."

"Who says I'm a loafer?"

The young man shot out his hands and grasped the fellow's elbow and
hand. The arm was flabby, the palm was soft. He doubled back the fingers
and exhibited the palm to the crowd.

"I don't find any labor medals here, men. Is there anybody in the crowd
who can show some?" He released the struggling, cursing captive.

"What's labor medals?" inquired a bystander.

The big man was still denouncing them from his car, but the group paid
little attention now.

"Callous spots in the place where a working-man ought to wear them. And
that place isn't on the tongue."

"Are you sneering at us because we can't get a job?"

"You're a loafer yourself, and anybody can see it," declared another.

The young man raised his arms, showing them his palms.

"I carry a few labor medals," he returned, curtly.

"Why ain't you on your job? The lord dukes won't give you one?"

"_When_ I work and _where_ I work is my own business, so long as I don't
beg food at back doors."

"Do _we_?"

They had crowded around him and menaced him with murmurings and
glowering gaze.

"I should say so," he replied, giving them an indifferent going-over
with his cold eyes. "You carry all the marks."

Then he shouldered his way out from among them, displaying the air of
one who found further discourse unprofitable.

He strolled leisurely in the direction of the big man in the car. The
crowd he had left stared after him without presuming to voice taunt or
reply; there was something compelling about him.

As Farr approached the automobile its owner stopped talking and stared
at the tall stranger with some apprehension. Then the big man beckoned
unobtrusively to a policeman. It was evident that Farr was not of
the same sort as the ruck of men from among whom he had just emerged,
nevertheless he had come from among them. The lordly man in the car had
observed him moving in the group, for Farr had loomed above the heads of
the others; what he had been saying to