ur companions in the Boy Scouts, being used to tracking and trailing
in the woods, could keep a better watch than our regular watchmen.
They are faithful enough, and would mean well, but what we are afraid
of is that a lot of clever scoundrels could get inside and set the
place on fire before they knew it. They wouldn't expect boys to be on
the lookout, and we can arrange to have the place protected amply if we
can have a few minutes warning. In that way the plans of the violent
ones among the men would be blocked, and at the same time there would
be no danger of bloodshed, or of anyone being hurt. I would rather
lose a year's pay than have a man of them all injured."

"And I a year's profits, or a good deal more," said Mr. Simms.
"Understand me, boys, we want you to do this in a way that will not get
you yourselves into any danger. Simply stay here tonight, after, the
place is closed up. Mr. Carew and I and a few other men will be
inside, but we don't want to show ourselves. I am having telephones
put in all over the factory, with instruments out in the courtyards, so
that you can get word to us without delay if you see anything
suspicious. Now suppose you run home and get your Scout uniforms. We
will have plenty to eat here, and we will have cots rigged up for you,
too, so that you can sleep in the day time."

"This is almost as good as being in the militia, isn't it, Jack?" said
Pete, as they hurried out.

"I think it's a lot better, Pete. In the militia, if there's a strike,
the men sometimes have to fire into a crowd, and a lot of foolish
people who don't mean any harm may get hurt or killed. I'd hate to
have to do anything like that. I suppose it's necessary, but I'd feel
like a murderer if I'd ever fired into a crowd that way, I know."

"Well, this is going to be a great lark, anyhow, Jack. I'd rather do
this than work, any day!"

"It may be pretty hard work before we're through, Pete. Look over
there!"

They were leaving the factory then, and across the street was a crowd
of men, in their working clothes, sullen and unhappy in appearance.
Two or three men, dressed more like brokers than workmen, were passing
to and fro among them, and leaving a wake of scowls and curses wherever
they passed.

"Strikers!" said Pete. "Gosh, but they don't look like the crowd that
we see coming to work every morning, do they, Jack? They look
different--like wild men, almost."

"It's too bad," said Jack. "I