p trade these fifteen years. Guess you've persuaded
them they ain't got swell houses, and good food, and cheap heat and
light, and, instead are living like all sorts of swine in their hogpens.
It's the way of the Skandinavia just now. The Skandinavia's out for our
blood. They want to smash us. Do you know why? Because they're an alien
firm who wants to steal these forests from the Canadians to fill their
own pockets with our wealth. We're for the Canadians, and we've built up
a proposition that's going to beat the foreigner right out into the sea.
But that don't matter now. These guys, these long-haired, unwashed guys,
that reckon to hand you boys these mills, are sent by the Skandinavia
to wreck us. Well, go right over to 'em. Help 'em. Sign every darn
document they hand you. They'll be your own death warrants, anyway. You
want war. You can have it. I'm here to fight. Meanwhile you best get
home to your cold houses, for the mills are closed down. You're locked
out."

He turned without waiting a second and passed through the back door by
which he had entered. And his men followed on his heels.

* * * * *

Bull was in his office. For all the storm of the morning the rest of the
day had passed quietly. Now it was late at night. His stove was
radiating a luxurious heat. He was quite unconcerned that the
electrically-heated steam radiators were cold. He was alone. Harker and
the engineer were still down at the mill. He was awaiting the report
they would bring him later.

He had passed some time in reading the pledge of Communal Brotherhood
which he had brought away with him from the recreation room, and he had
read the signatures that had been affixed to it. The latter were few,
and every name inscribed was of foreign origin. But it was the document
itself which concerned him most. If it were honest he felt that its
authors were wild people who should be kept under restraint. If it were
not honest, then hanging or shooting was far too lenient a fate to be
meted out to them. It was Communism in its wildest, most unrestrained
form.

In his final disgust he flung the papers on his desk. And as he did so a
sound reached him from the outer office, which had long since been
closed for the night by the half-breed, Loale.

He leapt to his feet. Without a second thought he moved over to the door
and flung it wide.

"What the--?" He broke off. "Good God!" he cried. "You, Father?" He
laughed. "W