ery one of her people should be under cover. She had sent for Carl and
her two stablemen, and told them that if they were dissatisfied in any
way she wanted to know it at once. If the wages she was paying were not
enough, she was willing to raise them, but she wanted them distinctly
to understand that as she had built up the business herself, she was
the only one who had a right to manage it, adding that she would rather
clean and drive the horses herself than be dictated to by any person
outside. She said that she saw trouble brewing, and knew that her men
would feel it first. They must look out for themselves coming home late
at night. At the brewery strike, two years before, hardly a day passed
that some of the non-union men were not beaten into insensibility.

That night Carl came back again to the porch door, and in his quiet,
earnest way said: "We have t'ink 'bout da Union. Da men not go--not
laik da union man. We not 'fraid"--tapping his hip-pocket, where,
sailor-like, he always carried his knife sheathed in a leather case.

Tom's eyes kindled as she looked into his manly face. She loved pluck
and grit. She knew the color of the blood running in this young fellow's
veins.

Week after week passed, and though now and then she caught the
mutterings of distant thunder, as Cully or some of the others overheard
a remark on the ferry-boat or about the post-office, no other signs of
the threatened storm were visible.

Then it broke.

One morning an important-looking envelope lay in her letter-box. It was
long and puffy, and was stamped in the upper corner with a picture of a
brewery in full operation. One end bore an inscription addressed to the
postmaster, stating that in case Mr. Thomas Grogan was not found within
ten days, it should be returned to Schwartz & Co., Brewers.

The village post-office had several other letter-boxes, faced with
glass, so that the contents of each could be seen from the outside. Two
of these contained similar envelopes, looking equally important, one
being addressed to McGaw.

When he had called for his mail, the close resemblance between the
two envelopes seen in the letter-boxes set McGaw to thinking. Actual
scrutiny through the glass revealed the picture of the brewery on each.
He knew then that Tom had been asked to bid for the brewery hauling.
That night a special meeting of the Union was called at eight o'clock.
Quigg, Crimmins, and McGaw signed the call.

"Hully gee, what a w