d away from the post of the outermost sentry, after a brief
impatient interview, the sergeant of the guard sang out to the only
occupant whom he knew or in whom he felt personal interest, "Look out
for 'toughs' down the street, Fred. A gang of 'em's just been scattered
over at the Amity Works."

"That's where we're bound," was the answer shouted back over the lowered
buggy top, and then our corporal turned to his whilom "boss," but now
silent and embarrassed convoy. "Now, Mr. Manners, whether they recognize
you or not they'll see my uniform, and while they're meek enough in
front of a company, they're bold as a lion against a single militiaman.
Hoist the buggy top. That'll fend off rocks from the back and sides,
anyhow, and if anybody tries to stop us before we get to the works, whip
up and drive for all you're worth."

It was good counsel. Turning out of the avenue with its electric lamps,
the buggy was spinning through a dimly lighted, unpaved cross street.
Knots of people were still hovering about the corners--even women and
children. Loud, harsh voices were wrangling in a saloon, but for three
or four blocks northward the buggy whirled unmolested, then ahead could
be seen groups of uncouth-looking men arguing under the lamp-posts or
skulking about the street corners, and presently, as Manners's swift
roadster came springing up the street, the gas-light fell one instant on
the buttons and white chevrons of the corporal's blouse. A burst of
yells and taunts was the result as they drove by the first group. This
drew the attention of the others, and redoubled yells and a crash of
stones followed from the next, and presently the street ahead was alive
with straggling rioters running out to head off this lone vehicle,
freighted with they knew not what, but quickly divined to be of the
hated "capitalistic class." Manners reached for his whip and lashed his
spirited mare over the haunches. She seemed to leap into air, amazed and
indignant, and two rough fellows who sprang at her head were banged
aside as easily as an ironclad would burst through a shad net. But up
the street the crowd was thicker. Only five blocks away now, around the
second turn to the right, were the Amity Works and Fred's comrades of
Company L, but between them lurked some hundreds of the foiled and
furious mob, balked in their scheme of wrecking and burning the laden
cars and the magnificently inflammable plant of the wealthy corporation,
and eager to