hen he was yard-master and no bigger a man on the
road than I am to-day," said Jim, "and now look at him." His mother
laughingly bade him take comfort, then, from the contemplation of
Williams's success. If he could rise to such affluence, why shouldn't
Jim? Besides, Mr. Williams had married a wealthy woman. "Yes, the
daughter of another bloated bondholder," said Jim. A year or two before
they regarded it, one and all of them, as no bad thing that there were
men eager to buy the bonds and meet the expense of extending the road;
but since the advent of Messrs. Steinman and Frenzel, the orators of the
Socialist propaganda, Jim had begun to develop a feeling of antipathy
towards all persons vaguely grouped in the "capitalistic class."

He had long since joined the Brotherhood of Trainmen, having confidence
in its benevolent and protective features. There was no actual coercion,
yet all seemed to find it to their best interest to belong to the union,
even though they merely paid the small dues and rarely attended its
meetings. These latter were usually conducted by a class of men
prevalent in all circles of society, fellows of some gift for
speech-making or debate. The quiet, thoughtful, and conservative rarely
spoke, and more frequently differed than agreed with the speakers, but
all through the year the meetings had become more turbulent and excited,
and little by little men who had been content and willing wage-workers
became infected with the theories so glibly expounded by the speakers.
They were the bone and sinew of the great corporation; why should not
they be rolling in wealth they won rather than seeing it lavished on the
favored few, their employers? The only way for workingmen to get their
fair percentage of the profits, said these leaders, was to strike and
stick together, for the men of one union to "back" those of another, and
then success was sure. Called from his home to a meeting of the
trainmen, Jim Wallace was one of the five hundred of his brethren to
decide whether or no they too should strike in support of their fellows,
the switchmen, demanding not only the restoration of the discharged
freight-handlers, but now also that of Stoltz. Old Wallace had firmly
told him No; they had no case. But by midnight the trainmen had said
Yes.

An hour after midnight, anxious and unable to sleep, the father had
stolen quietly up into the boys' room. Jim's bed was unoccupied; but
over on the other side lay Corporal