grounds to come by quieter thoroughfares to the industrial
district beyond the railroad tracks.

For the first time in a riotous week, Pottery Flat was outwardly
peaceful and its narrow streets were practically empty. Just what this
portended, Margery did not know; but she found out when she turned into
the street upon which the Raymer property fronted. Smoke was pouring
from the tall central stack of the plant, and it had evidently provoked
a sudden and wrathful gathering of the clans. The sidewalks were filled
with angry workmen, and an excited argument was going forward at one of
the barred gates between the locked-out men and a watchman inside of the
yard.

The crowd let the trap pass without hindrance. However coldly Lake
Boulevard and upper Shawnee Street might regard Miss Grierson, there was
no enmity in the glances of the Flat dwellers--and for good reasons. In
want, Miss Margery had poured largesse out of a liberal hand; and in
sickness she had many times proved herself the veritable good angel that
some people called her.

It was one of the strikers who offered to hold the big Englishman when
the magnate's daughter sprang from the trap at the office door, and for
the young fellow who offered she had a smile and a pleasant word. "I
wouldn't trouble you to do that, Malcolm; but if you'll lead him along
to that post and hitch him, I'll be much obliged," she said.

Though it was the first time she had been in the new offices, she seemed
to know where to find what she sought; and when Raymer took his face out
of his desk, she was standing on the threshold of the open door and
smiling across at him.

"May I come in?" she asked; and when he fairly bubbled over in the
effort to make her understand how welcome she was: "No; I mustn't sit
down, because if I do, I shall stay too long--and this is a business
call. Where is Mr. Griswold?"

"He went up-town a little while ago, and I wish to goodness he'd come
back. You'd think, to look out of the windows, that we were due to have
battle and murder and sudden death, wouldn't you? It's all because we
have put a little fire under one battery of boilers. They tried to burn
us out last night, and I'm going to carry steam enough for the fire
pumps, if the heavens fall."

"You have been having a great deal of trouble, haven't you?" she said,
sympathetically. "I'm sorry, and I've come to help you cure it."

Raymer shook his head despondently.

"I'm afraid it has gone pas