e shaping for trouble," he
said, as soon as their greetings were over.

"What's the matter with them?"

"It's about those four women--the four who came back."

Mary's eyes opened wide.

"There has been quite a lot of feeling," he continued, "and when the four
women turned up this morning again and started work, the men went out and
held a meeting in the locker room. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if the
automatic hands went on strike."

"You mean to say they will go on strike before they will work with their
own wives and sisters?"

"That's the funny part of it. As far as I can find out, the trouble
wasn't started by our own men--but by strangers--men from New York and
Boston--professional agitators, they look like to me--plenty of money and
plenty of talk and clever workmen, too. I don't know just how far they've
gone, but--"

The office boy appeared in the doorway and he, too, looked worried.

"There's a committee to see you, Miss Spencer," he said, "a bunch from
the lathe shops."

"Have they seen Mr. Woodward?"

"No'm. He referred them to you."

"All right, Joe. Send them in, please."

The committee filed in and Archey noted that they were still wearing
their street clothes. "Looks bad," he told himself.

There were three men, two of them strangers to Mary, but the third she
recognized as one of the teachers in her old "school"--a thoughtful
looking man well past middle age, with a long grey moustache and
reflective eyes. "Mr. Edsol, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes'm," he solemnly replied. "That's me."

She looked at the other two. The first had the alert glance and actions
which generally mark the orator, the second was a dark, heavy man who
never once stopped frowning.

"Miss Spencer," immediately began the spokesman--he who looked like the
orator--"we have been appointed a committee by the automatic shop to tell
you that we do not believe in the dilution of labour by women. Unless the
four women who are working in our department are laid off at once, the
men in our shop will quit."

"Just a moment, please," said Mary, ringing. "Joe, will you please tell
Mr. Woodward, Sr., that I would like to see him?"

"He's just gone out," said Joe.

"Mr. Burdon, then."

"Mr. Burdon sent word he wouldn't be down today. He's gone to New York."

Mary thought that over.

"Joe," she said. "There are four women working in the automatic shop. I
wish you'd go and bring them here." And turning to the committee