as
not one single stirring human figure to break up the desolation of it
all.

It was a sad, white, desolate world, which for over fifteen years he had
known only as a busy hive. Roadways should have been clear. Traffic
should have been speeding, every service, even in the depth of winter,
should have been in full running. The mills--those wonderful
mills--should have been droning out their chorus of human achievement in
a world set out for Nature's fiercest battle ground.

From the moment of that first encounter in the recreation hall Bat had
known the strike to be inevitable. Bull's swift action at the outset had
had its effect. For the moment it had checked the movement, and reduced
it to a simmer. Heat and power had been restored, and work had been
resumed, and outwardly there had been peace. But it was artificial, and
the lumberman and the engineer had been aware that this was so.

Brief as was the respite it was valuable time to the men in control, and
they used it to the uttermost. The leaders of the strike had been robbed
of the advantage they had sought from a lightning strike. But they were
by no means defeated. It was only that they had lost a move in the game
they had prepared.

At the end of a week Bat awoke one morning to find the mills and all
traffic at a standstill, and the workers skulking within the shelter of
their own homes.

Then it was that the benefit of a week's respite was made plain. Every
plan that had been prepared was forthwith put into operation. Power and
heat were again cut off. The loyalists, which included a large number of
the engineering staff, and the staff of the executive offices, were
equipped with such weapons as would serve, and set guard over the food
and liquor stores, and the essentials of the mills. And the power house
was fortified for siege.

But the strikers gave no sign. There was no attempt at violence. There
was no picketing, and no apparent attempt at coercion of the loyalists.
It almost seemed as if the objects of the leaders had been achieved by
the simple cessation of work.

This silent condition of the strike had gone on for days with
exasperating effect upon the defenders. Bat endeavoured by every means
in his power to bring the leaders of the movement into the open to
discuss the situation. But every effort ended negatively. The men would
not contemplate the conference table, and finally, in headlong mood, the
lumberman had committed the grave mistake