a lantern--put something red
over them, their shirts if necessary."

"None of the men will dare do it while the delegate's here."

"Find some one--take one side yourself, if you have to."

Max hurried away for the lanterns, Bannon walked out to the group of men
on the middle tracks.

"Where's Mr. Grady?" he said.

One of the men pointed, but the delegate gave no attention.

"You're Mr. Grady, are you?" said Bannon. "I'm Mr. Bannon, of MacBride &
Company. What's the trouble here?"

The delegate was revelling in his authority: his manner was not what it
was to be when he should know Bannon better. He waved his hand toward
the wharf.

"You ought to know better than that," he said curtly.

"Than what?"

"Than what?--than running a job the way this is run."

"I think I can run this job," said Bannon, quietly. "You haven't told me
what's the trouble yet."

"It's right here--you're trying to make money by putting on one man to
do the work of two."

"How?"

Bannon's quiet manner exasperated the delegate.

"Use your eyes, man--you can't make eight men carry a twelve-by-fourteen
stick."

"How many shall I put on?"

"Ten."

"All right."

"And you'd better put eight men on the other sticks."

The delegate looked up, nettled that Bannon should yield so easily.

"That's all right," said Bannon. "We aren't fighting the union. After
this, if you've got anything to say, I wish you'd come to me with it
before you call off the men. Is there anything else before I start up?"

Grady was chewing the stub of a cigar. He stood looking about with an
ugly air, then he said:--

"You ain't starting up just yet."

"Why not?"

The delegate's reply was lost in the shout that suddenly went up from
the western end of the line of laborers. Then came the sound of a
locomotive bell and exhaust. Bannon started down the track, jumping the
timbers as he ran, toward Vogel's lantern, that was bobbing along toward
him. The train had stopped, but now it was puffing slowly forward,
throwing a bright light along the rails.

"It's a C. & S. C. local," Max shouted. "Can't we clear up the right
track?"

Bannon stopped and looked around. About half of the men had followed
him, and were strung out in irregular groups between him and the
timbers. Walking up between the groups came the delegate, with two men,
chewing his cigar in silence as he walked. The train was creeping along,
the fireman leaning far out of the cab window, closel