There was an uproar. Some one helped the speaker wipe the blood out of
his eyes and tied his head up, while Ole pinned both Roger's arms behind
him.

"They say that's Moore's boy threw that brick," cried the speaker. "Come
up here, you hell cat, and show yourself to these downtrodden workmen."

"Let me go, Ole," said Roger, with sudden calm. "I want to say
something."

Ole looked into Roger's blue eyes. "All right," he said, after a moment,
"only if you get mad again, I can't answer for this crowd. They're
sore."

"I'm all right," muttered Roger, and he pushed his way to the office
steps where the speaker stood. "Here I am," he cried; "what about it?"

"Here he is," roared the stranger, pulling Roger round to face the
crowd. "If he tries murder now, what'll he do when he has a factory of
his own?"

Roger thrust his trembling hands into his trousers pockets. "Don't you
think it!" he shouted. "What do I want of a factory? To let a crowd of
ignoramuses like you ruin me--just out of ignorance and envy? Not on
your life! My father's going onto a farm and I'm going with him. I hope
you're all satisfied."

"Farm!" sneered the stranger. "Why, he'll have a bunch of scabs up here
to-morrow. I know Moore!"

What Roger might have said, one cannot know, for at that moment a man
drove up in an automobile and shouldered his way up to the office door.
He pulled a bunch of keys from his pocket as he mounted the steps.

"Who are you?" asked Roger. "I'm Mr. Moore's son!"

"I'm Mr. Wrench of Chicago. Trouble serious?"

"No," replied the boy. "Just a lot of hot air."

"One moment please," said the strange speaker. "There'll be serious
trouble here if some questions aren't answered. What is your business
here?"

"I'm to see to the dismantling of the factory," answered Mr. Wrench,
indifferently.

A long breath seemed to rise from the listening crowd. Automatically it
broke up into little groups and the best efforts of the strike leaders
could not pull it together again. Roger felt that the excitement was all
over and he made his way slowly home.

At midnight that night a terrific explosion shook the little town of
Eagle's Wing. Roger had not finished pulling on his clothes when the
fire bells began to ring. He caught his father rushing out of the front
door. Ernie and his father joined them and they followed other hurrying
groups toward the factory.

It was all ablaze, as well as several of the workmen's houses, which
wi