his image had presented itself as she first saw him--ragged, hungry,
and grim, a worthy descendant of the wild Thurstons about whom Musker
had discoursed. Now, in spite of his weather-beaten face and hardened
hands, he appeared what he was, a man of education and some refinement,
and his resolute expression, erect carriage, and muscular frame,
rendered lithe and almost statuesque by much swinging of the ax, gave
him an indefinite air of distinction. Again she decided that Geoffrey
Thurston was a well-favored man, but remembering Musker's stories, she
set herself to watch for some trace of inherent barbarity. This was
unfortunate for Geoffrey, because in such cases observers generally
discover what they search for.

Geoffrey was placed beside Helen at dinner, and having roughed it since
he left England, and even before that time, it seemed strange to him to
be deftly waited upon at a table glittering with silver and gay with
flowers. Mrs. Thomas Savine sat opposite him, between her husband and
the host, and Helen found certain suspicions confirmed when Savine
referred to the crushing of the strike. Previously, he had given his
daughter a brief account of it.

"It was daringly done," said Helen, "but I wonder, Mr. Thurston, if you
and others who hold the power ever consider the opposite side of the
question. It may be that those men, whose task is evidently highly
dangerous, have wives and children depending upon them, and a few extra
dollars, earned hardly enough, no doubt, might mean so much to them."

"I am afraid I don't always do so," answered Geoffrey. "I have toiled
tolerably hard as a workman myself. If any employe should consider
that he was underpaid for the risk he ran, and should say so civilly, I
should listen to him. On the other hand, if any combination strove by
unfair means to coerce me, I should spare no effort to crush it!"

Thurston generally was too much in earnest to make a pleasant
dinner-table conversationalist. As he spoke, he shut one big brown
hand. It was a trifling action, and he was, perhaps, unconscious of
it, but Helen, who noticed the flicker in his eyes and the vindictive
tightening of the hard fingers, shrank from him instinctively.

"Is that not a cruel plan of action, and is there no room for a gentler
policy in your profession? Must the weak always be trampled out of
existence?" she replied, with a slight trace of indignation.

Thurston turned towards her with a puzz