rture had been duly celebrated at the Blue Goose.
This had been the invariable sequence. Through all these changes Pierre
was complacently confident, but he never lost his head. The bottles of
the Blue Goose bar were regularly drained, alike for welcoming and for
speeding the departing incumbent at the Rainbow.

The roulette whirred cheerfully, gold and silver coins clinked merrily,
the underground furnace reddened and dulled at regular periods, and much
lawful money passed back and forth between the Blue Goose and its
patrons. Not that the passing back and forth was equal; Pierre attended
to that. His even teeth gleamed between smiling lips, his swarthy cheeks
glowed, and day by day his black hair seemed to grow more sleek and
oily, and his hands smoother with much polishing.

Pierre read printed words with ease. That which was neither printed nor
spoken was spelled out, sometimes with wrinkling of brows and narrowing
of eyes, but with unmistakable correctness in the end. From the faces
and actions of men he gathered wisdom, and this wisdom was a lamp to his
feet, and in dark places gave much light to his eyes. Thus it happened
that with the coming of Richard Firmstone came also great caution to
Pierre.

The present superintendent blew no fanfares on his new trumpet, he
expressed no opinion of his predecessors, and gave no hint of his future
policy.

Mr. Morrison, who oiled his hair and wore large diamonds in a
much-starched, collarless shirt while at the bar of the Blue Goose,
donned overalls and jumpers while doing "substitute" at the mill, and
between times kept alive the spirit of rebellion in the bosoms of
down-trodden, capitalist-ridden labour. Morrison freely voiced the
opinion that the Rainbow crowd had experienced religion, and had sent
out a Sunday-school superintendent to reform the workmen and to count
the dollars that dropped from beneath the stamps of the big mill. In
this opinion Luna, the mill foreman, concurred. He even raised the ante,
solemnly averring that the old man opened the mill with prayer, sang
hallelujahs at change of shift, and invoked divine blessing before
chewing his grub. Whereat the down-trodden serfs of soulless
corporations cheered long and loud, and called for fresh oblations at
the bar of the Blue Goose.

All these things Luna pondered in his mind, and his indignation waxed
hot at Pierre.

"The damned old frog-eater's losing his nerve; that's what! I ain't
going to be held