resources
of the giant plant behind the effort, production was phenomenal. In two
more days the available markets were glutted. Within two weeks, at a
conservative estimate, there would be a titanium-steel trash can for
every man, woman, child, and hound dog on the North American continent.
The jet engines, structural steels, tubing, and other pre-strike
products piled up in the freight yards, their routing slips and order
requisitions tied up in the reverberating machines.

But the machines continued to buzz and sputter.

The workers grew restive. From the first day, Towne and Hendricks and
all the others had been picketing the plant, until angry crowds of
workers had driven them off with shotguns. Then they came back in an
old, weatherbeaten 'copter which hovered over the plant entrance
carrying a banner with a plaintive message: ROBLING TITANIUM UNFAIR TO
MANAGEMENT. Tomatoes were hurled, fists were shaken, but the 'copter
remained.

The third day, Jeff Bates was served with an injunction ordering Towne
to return to work. It was duly appealed, legal machinery began tying
itself in knots, and the strikers still struck. By the fifth day there
was a more serious note.

"You're going to have to appear, Walter. We can't dodge this one."

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning. And before a labor-rigged judge, too." The little
lawyer paced his office nervously. "I don't like it. Torkleson's getting
desperate. The workers are putting pressure on him."

Walter grinned. "Then Pendleton is doing a good job of selling."

"But you haven't got _time_," the lawyer wailed. "They'll have you in
jail if you don't start the machines again. They may have you in jail if
you _do_ start them, too, but that's another bridge. Right now they want
those machines going again."

"We'll see," said Walter. "What time tomorrow?"

"Ten o'clock." Bates looked up. "And don't try to skip. You be there,
because _I_ don't know what to tell them."

Walter was there a half hour early. Torkleson's legal staff glowered
from across the room. The judge glowered from the bench. Walter closed
his eyes with a little smile as the charges were read: "--breach of
contract, malicious mischief, sabotage of the company's machines,
conspiring to destroy the livelihood of ten thousand workers. Your
Honor, we are preparing briefs to prove further that these men have
formed a conspiracy to undermine the economy of the entire nation. We
appeal to the spirit of orderly ju