the likes of you. Take a good look at that, and then
listen to me. That's the last stick of timber that goes across this floor
until you put a runway from the hoist to the end of the building. And
every stick that leaves the runway has got to go on a dolly. Mark my words
now--I'm talking plain. My men don't lift another pound of timber on this
house--everything goes on rollers. I've tried to be a patient man, but
you've run against the limit. You've broke the last back you'll have a
chance at." He put his hand to his mouth as if to shout at the gang, but
dropped it and faced around. "No, I won't stop them. I'll be fair to the
last." He pulled out his watch. "I'll give you one hour from now. At ten
o'clock, if your runway and the dollies ain't working, the men go out. And
the next time I see you, I won't be so easy."

He turned away, waved to the laborers, with an, "All right, boys; go
ahead," and walked grandly toward the stairway.

Max whistled.

"I'd like to know where Charlie is," said Peterson.

"He ain't far. I'll find him;" and Max hurried away.

Bannon was sitting in the office chair with his feet on the
draughting-table, figuring on the back of a blotter. The light from the
wall lamp was indistinct, and Bannon had to bend his head forward to see
the figures. He did not look up when the door opened and Max came to the
railing gate.

"Grady's been up on the distributing floor," said Max, breathlessly, for
he had been running.

"What did he want?"

"He's going to call the men off at ten o'clock if we don't put in a runway
and dollies on the distributing floor."

Bannon looked at his watch.

"Is that all he wants?"

Max, in his excitement, did not catch the sarcasm in the question.

"That's all he said, but it's enough. We can't do it."

Bannon closed his watch with a snap.

"No," he said, "and we won't throw away any good time trying. You'd better
round up the committee that's supposed to run this lodge and send them
here. That young Murphy's one of them--he can put you straight. Bring Pete
back with you, and the new man, James."

Max lingered, with a look of awe and admiration.

"Are you going to stand out, Mr. Bannon?" he asked.

Bannon dropped his feet to the floor, and turned toward the table.

"Yes," he said. "We're going to stand out."

Since Bannon's talk with President Carver a little drama had been going on
in the local lodge, a drama that neither Bannon, Max, nor Peterson knew
abou