got to do things in the dark, till we get the Labour
Unions at our back. But they're a glass of water when it comes to the
real thing."

With an imperceptible movement Morani's knife was out again, swishing
back and forward across his palm with a low hissing sound. And every
eye was rivetted on it. Koppy dragged his away and spoke:

"You three, you go to boss--"

Werner gave a startled exclamation.

"Meeting for that," Koppy went on relentlessly. "We send you three to
talk to boss--"

"I never was no talker, Koppy, you know that," protested Werner.

But Morani continued to whet his knife with smiling unction.

"You see boss," said Koppy, "and demand we boss ourselves--that I boss
or job stops. We Workers know no boss; we please ourselves. We boss
out here. If any one say no--slash!"

He struck downward with his right hand, as he would gladly strike when
he had the chance. And Morani repeated the movement, only far more
subtly and efficiently. Werner stumbled to his feet, his eyes on
Morani's stiletto.

"Here, you butcher, I'm not a boss. Keep that sticker away from my
shins. Put it up, Morani, for God's sake! You don't need practice."

Koppy motioned him roughly back to the bunk on which he had been lying.

"You three tell boss that."

"Like hell I do!" grumbled Werner, "when I'm off my nut."

"Like-a hell I do," repeated Morani fervently.

"Like hell I do," agreed Heppel solemnly.

"Like hell you all do," Koppy summed up acidly.

"And your precious skin--" began Werner.

"I order."

The unmistakable warning in the abrupt retort silenced Werner for the
moment; the distant peril seemed the less ominous.

"There's no hurry," he suggested after an interval. "He thinks he's
got the hole almost filled, but we can hold him up any time by pulling
down some more of the trestle--"

"And I stand under!" snapped Koppy.

"Well, of course, you don't need to. You're president of The
Independent Workers of the World."

Koppy glanced at him from beneath lowering brows, but Werner assumed a
look of blankest innocence as he rolled himself a fresh cigarette.

"Or," he reflected, "we might leave some one behind to blow it up after
it's finished."

"Never finished," declared Koppy. "The bosses must know the Workers
have spoken."

"But three of us, I notice, are to do all the speaking," Werner growled
to himself. "Next thing to being President of the United States I'd be
president of the Work