etroleum on fire.
A large body of workmen assembled near the railway station,--to
welcome them. There was another rumor which caused the marble workers
to stare at each other aghast. It was to the effect that Mr. Slocum,
having long meditated retiring from business, had now decided to do
so, and was consulting with Wyndham, the keeper of the green-house,
about removing the division wall and turning the marble yard into a
peach garden. This was an unlooked-for solution of the difficulty.
Stillwater without any Slocum's Marble Yard was chaos come again.

"Good Lord, boys!" cried Piggott, "if Slocum should do that!"

Meanwhile, Snelling's bar had been suppressed by the authorities,
and a posse of policemen, borrowed from South Millville, occupied the
premises. Knots of beetle-browed men, no longer in holiday gear, but
chiefly in their shirt-sleeves, collected from time to time at the
head of the main street, and glowered threateningly at the single
policeman pacing the porch of the tavern. The Stillwater Grays were
under arms in the armory over Dundon's drugstore. The thoroughfare
had ceased to be safe for any one, and Margaret's merciful errands
were necessarily brought to an end. How the poor creatures who had
depended on her bounty now continued to exist was a sorrowful
problem.

Matters were at this point, when on the morning of the thirteenth
day Richard noticed the cadaverous face of a man peering into the
yard through the slats of the main gate. Richard sauntered down
there, with his hands in his pockets. The man was old Giles, and with
him stood Lumley and Peterson, gazing thoughtfully at the sign
outside,--

NO ADMITTANCE EXCEPT ON BUSINESS.

The roughly lettered clapboard, which they had heedlessly passed a
thousand times, seemed to have taken a novel significance to them.

_Richard_. What's wanted there?

_Giles. [Very affably.]_ We was lookin' round for a job, Mr.
Shackford.

_Richard_. We are not taking on any hands at present.

_Giles_. Didn't know but you was. Somebody said you was.

_Richard_. Somebody is mistaken.

_Giles_. P'rhaps to-morrow, or nex' day?

_Richard_. Rather doubtful, Giles.

_Giles. [Uneasily.]_ Mr. Slocum ain't goin' to give up
business, is he?

_Richard_. Why shouldn't he, if it doesn't pay? The business
is carried on for his amusement and profit; when the profit stops it
won't be amusing any longer. Mr. Slocum is not going to run the yard
for the sake of the Marble W