trines. It is I, I, Father Adam,
tell you so. The men here to-night, whom you are inciting to theft and
brutal murder, know me. They know me as their servant, as their loyal
comrade and helper, ready to answer their call when trouble overtakes
them, ready to yield them of my best service in the day of prosperity or
the night of their woe. And as it is with them so it is with their women
and their babes. That's the reason I am here to-night, the black night
of their woe. And so I ask them to listen to me now as they have
listened many times before in the woods and the mills, which is the
world to which we all belong. If they do that, if only reason asserts
itself, they'll here and now turn on you, and rend you, you and your
wretched gang. They'll cast you out of their midst, and fling off a
foreign yoke, as they would cast out any other unclean pestilence for
the purification of their homes. They'll pack you out into the northern
night where no foul germs can exist. Are they to become thieves at your
bidding? Are they to become murderers because your foreign money has
bought them machine guns? Would they go back to their women, and their
innocent babes, wiping their blood-stained hands to ask them to rejoice
in the brutal crime committed in the name of brotherhood and fellowship?
No, sir. I know them. You don't--"

The Bolshevist flung out a denouncing hand and bellowed in his seething
wrath:

"Traitor! He is of the Cap--"

But immediate uproar drowned his denunciation and a great voice shouted
in the din.

"Let him speak."

A dozen other voices strove to make themselves heard, and a wild
pandemonium was rising when clear and sharp Father Adam's voice rang out
again above it.

"I tell you they'll have no more of you," he cried as the leader dropped
back to his seat, and the dark man at the back of the platform further
bestirred himself. "Order them now to man your machine guns and murder
the men in the power house! Give your orders here and now! Read out your
list of names and see--"

A shot rang out. The flame of a gun leapt somewhere at the back of the
platform, to be followed by complete, utter silence.

Then came a sound. It was a hardly-suppressed moan. Father Adam reeled
slowly. He half turned about. Then he crumpled and dropped to his knees
and fell forward into hands outstretched to catch him.

Paralysis seemed to grip that dense-packed human throng. But it was only
for a second. Then the avalanche le