xact truth and all of it.
If you tinker them, you'll not be able to run fast enough nor far enough
to get away from me. Do I make it plain?"

"Very plain, indeed, Mr. Tom; the office boy would catch your meaning, I
think."

"All right, then; gather up your force and pitch in. I haven't time to
watch you, and I don't mean to take it. But I shall know it when you
begin to flicker."

When the two early morning disturbers of Mr. Dyckman's peace were once
more in the street and on the way to the station to take the train for
Gordonia and the seat of war, Caleb found speech.

"Son," he said gravely, "do you know that you've made a mighty bitter
enemy in the last fifteen minutes? Dyckman is Farley's confidential man,
and when he gets his knife ground good and sharp he's goin' to cut you
with it, once for himself and once for his boss."

Tom's laugh was an easing of strains.

"It does me a heap of good to know that I can crack the whip where you'd
be putting on the brakes, pappy; it does, for a fact. But you needn't
worry about Dyckman. He won't quarrel with his bread and butter. I don't
care anything about his personal loyalty so long as he does his work."

Again Caleb had to withdraw a little and look his stalwart young captain
over and say: "It is Tom; it's just Buddy, grown up and come to be a
man." But it was hard to realize.

"I reckon you've got it all figured out--what-all we're goin' to do,
Tom," he said, when they were seated in the car of the accommodation
train.

"Yes, I think I have; at least, I have the beginning struck out. We are
going to call a stock-holders' meeting, vote you into the presidency,
take the bull squarely by the horns and blow in the Chiawassee furnace
again--dig coal, roast coke and make iron."

"But, son! at the present price of iron, we can't make any money;
couldn't clear a dollar a car if the buyers would push their cars right
into our yard. And there ain't any buyers."

Tom was looking out of the window at the procession of smokeless factory
chimneys. The blight had already fallen on the South Tredegar
industries.

"It's going to be a battle to the strong, to the fellow who can wait,
and work while he waits," he said, half to himself. Then, more
particularly to his father's protest: "I know, we are in pretty bad
shape. When we get those exhibits we shall find that the Farleys have
picked the bones, leaving them for us to bury decently out of sight.
Then, when the funeral is