hilosopher looking the general
manager full in the face.

"But what brought you to this condition? that's what I want to know,"
said the official earnestly. "And if you can explain that, you can have
the place, provided you really want to reform."

"I'm not so anxious to reform," said the Philosopher. "What I want is a
show to earn an honest living, and let the balance of the world reform.
But if you want to know what brought me to my present condition I can
tell you--this is the instrument." And the man lifted from the manager's
desk a slip of paper, full of names, across the top of which was printed
"Black List."

"It's the blight of the black-list that is upon me, sir, and it gives me
pleasure to be able to present to you a sample of the class of citizens
you and your associates are turning out," said the Philosopher with much
feeling, and he turned to go.

"Stay," said Patsy. "Mr. Stonaker, you told me yesterday that if I ever
needed your assistance in any way to make my wants known."

"And do you still vouch for this man?"

"I do."

"Very well, then--he can have the place!"

CHAPTER NINTH

Mr. Hawkins had been in his new lodgings nearly a week and had
frequently discussed the strike with the great labor leader, when he
made bold one evening to state that he had no use for the Brotherhood
and that he had it from inside sources that a number of the old
engineers were going to return to work, and that the strike would soon
be a thing of the past, as would the comfortable jobs that the strikers
had left.

Cowels, of course, was indignant, but he was interested. Mr. Hawkins had
expected as much.

"I'm going out firing myself," he went on, "and I'm promised promotion
as soon as I can start and stop. If I had your experience and your
ability, generally, I could get the best run on the road with a cinch on
a job as M. M. at the first opening. A good man who goes to the
company's rescue now won't want for anything. If he's hard up he can
get all the money he needs--that is a few hundred at least--advanced to
him."

Cowels listened attentively.

Mr. Hawkins lighted a fresh ten-cent cigar and gave one to his landlord.

"Of course, it's different with you," resumed the lodger, "you own your
home and have saved your money, perhaps, but a whole lot of the strikers
are being pinched and they're going to weaken. They'll be cursed a
little bit by the Brotherhood, but the public is dead against the
strike