able to separate the two. He
saw her fire in that other.... Her sister, she had said, had been
disgraced; she had defied him to marry her in the face of that
degradation--and this suddenly had sickened him. He had let her go. What
a fool he had been to let her go! Had she herself been--! He did not
finish this thought. Throughout the long night he had known, for a
certainty, that this woman was a vital part of him, flame of his flame.
Had he never seen her he would have fought these strikers to their knees,
but now the force of this incentive was doubled. He would never yield
until he had crushed them, until he had reconquered her.

He was approaching one of the groups of strikers, and unconsciously he
slowed his steps. The whites of his eyes reddened. The great coat of
golden fur he wore gave to his aspect an added quality of formidableness.
There were some who scattered as he drew near, and of the less timorous
spirits that remained only a few raised dark, sullen glances to encounter
his, which was unflinching, passionately contemptuous. Throughout the
countless generations that lay behind them the instinct of submission had
played its dominant, phylogenetic role. He was the Master. The journey
across the seas had not changed that. A few shivered--not alone because
they were thinly clad. He walked on, slowly, past other groups, turned
the corner of West Street, where the groups were more numerous, while the
number of those running the gantlet had increased. And he heard, twice or
thrice, the word "Scab!" cried out menacingly. His eyes grew redder still
as he spied a policeman standing idly in a doorway.

"Why in hell don't you do your duty?" he demanded. "What do you mean by
letting them interfere with these workers?"

The man flinched. He was apologetic. "So long as they're peaceable, Mr.
Ditmar--those are my orders. I do try to keep 'em movin'."

"Your orders? You're a lot of damned cowards," Ditmar replied, and went
on. There were mutterings here; herded together, these slaves were
bolder; and hunger and cold, discouragement at not being able to stop the
flow toward the mills were having their effect. By the frozen canal, the
scene of the onslaught of yesterday, the crowd had grown comparatively
thick, and at the corner of the lodging-house row Ditmar halted a moment,
unnoticed save by a few who nudged one another and murmured. He gave them
no attention, he was trying to form an estimate of the effect of the
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