cco smoke. Among them sat the
great R---- D----, his burly figure looming up at one end of the table,
and his strong, rough, iron-jawed face turning first toward this speaker
and then toward that. The discussion, which had evidently been lively,
died down soon after I appeared at the door, and Bill Hahn came out to
me and we sat down together in the adjoining room. Here I broke eagerly
into an account of the happenings of the day, described my chance
meeting with Mr. Vedder--who was well known to Bill by reputation--and
finally asked him squarely whether he would meet him. I think my
enthusiasm quite carried him away.

"Sure, I will," said Bill Hahn heartily.

"When and where?" I asked, "and will any of the other men join you?"

Bill was all enthusiasm at once, for that was the essence of his
temperament, but he said that he must first refer it to the committee.
I waited, in a tense state of impatience, for what seemed to me a very
long time; but finally the door opened and Bill Hahn came out bringing
R---- D---- himself with him. We all sat down together, and R---- D----
began to ask questions (he was evidently suspicious as to who and what
I was); but I think, after I talked with them for some time that I made
them see the possibilities and the importance of such a meeting. I was
greatly impressed with R---- D----, the calmness and steadiness of the
man, his evident shrewdness. "A real general," I said to myself. "I
should like to know him better."

After a long talk they returned to the other room, closing the door
behind them, and I waited again, still more impatiently.

It seems rather absurd now, but at that moment I felt firmly convinced
that I was on the way to the permanent settlement of a struggle which
had occupied the best brains of Kilburn for many weeks.

While I was waiting in that dingy ante-room, the other door slowly
opened and a boy stuck his head in.

"Is David Grayson here?" he asked.

"Here he is," said I, greatly astonished that any one in Kilburn should
be inquiring for me, or should know where I was.

The boy came in, looked at me with jolly round eyes for a moment, and
dug a letter out of his pocket. I opened it at once, and glancing at the
signature discovered that it was from Mr. Vedder.

"He said I'd probably find you at strike headquarters," remarked the
boy.

This was the letter: marked "Confidential."

My Dear Grayson: I think you must be something of a hypnotist. After you