o wear a red necktie was to invite arrest. It was a merry
day for blithe devotees of Danger; and they were taking their full of
her in Harvey.

The Law and Order League was one of those strange madnesses to which any
community may fall a victim. Kyle Perry and Ahab Wright--with Jasper
Adams a nimble echo, church men, fathers, husbands, solid business men,
were its leaders.

They endorsed and participated in brutalities, cowardly cruelties at
which in their saner moments they could only shudder in horror. But they
made Jared Thurston chairman of the publicity committee and the
_Times_, morning after morning, fanned the passions of the people
higher and higher. "Skin the Rats," was the caption of his editorial the
morning after a young fellow was tarred and feathered and beaten until
he lost consciousness and was left in the highway. The editorial under
this heading declared that anarchy had lifted its hydra head; that Grant
Adams preaching peace in the Valley was preparing to let in the jungle,
and that the bums who were flooding the city jail were Adams's tools,
who soon would begin dynamiting and burning the town, when it suited his
purpose, while his holier-than-thou dupes in the Valley were conducting
their goody-goody strike.

Plots of dynamiting were discovered. Hardly a day passed for nearly a
week that the big black headlines of the _Times_ did not tell of
dynamite found in obviously conspicuous places--in the court house, in
the Sands opera house, in the schoolhouses, in the city hall. So Harvey
grew class conscious, property conscious, and the town went stark mad.
It was the gibbering fear of those who make property of privilege, and
privilege of property, afraid of losing both.

But for a week and a day the motive power of the strike was Grant
Adams's indomitable will. Hour after hour, day after day he paced his
iron floor, and dreamed his dream of the conquest of the world through
fellowship. And by the power of his faith and by the example of his
imprisonment for his faith, he held his comrades in the gardens, kept
the strikers on the picket lines and sustained the courage of the
delegates in Belgian Hall, who met inside a wall of blue-coated
policemen. The mind of the Valley had reached a place where sympathy for
Grant Adams and devotion to him, imprisoned as their leader, was
stronger than his influence would have been outside. So during the week
and a day, the waves of hate and the winds of adverse ci