him home to our
garage, and worked with him all night fixing him up. Grant, it's hell.
The things they did to that fellow--unspeakable, and fiendish." Morty
cleared his throat again, paused to gather courage and went on. "And he
heard something that made him believe they were coming for you
to-night."

The edge of a smile touched the seamed face, and Grant replied:
"Well--maybe so. You never can tell. Besides old John Kollander, who are
the leaders of this Law and Order mob, Morty?"

"Well," replied the little man, "John Kollander is the responsible head,
but Kyle Perry is master of ceremonies--the stuttering, old coot; and
Ahab gives them the use of the police, and Joe Calvin backs up both of
them. However," sighed Morty, "the whole town is with them. It's stark
mad, Grant--Harvey has gone crazy. These tramps filling the jails and
eating up taxes--and the _Times_ throwing scares into the merchants
with the report that unless the strike is broken, the smelters and
glassworks and cement works will move from the district--it's awful! My
idea of hell, Grant, is a place where every man owns a little property
and thinks he is just about to lose it."

The young-old man was excited, and his eyes glistened, but his speech
brought on a fit of coughing. He lifted his face anxiously and began:
"Grant,--I'm with you in this fight." He paused for breath. "It's a
man's scrap, Grant--a man's fight as sure as you're born." Grant sprang
to his feet and threw back his head, as he began pacing the narrow cell.
As he threw out his arms, his claw clicked on the steel bars of the
cell, and Morty Sands felt the sudden contracting of the cell walls
about the men as Grant cried--

"That's what it is, Morty--it's a man's fight--a man's fight for men.
The industrial system to-day is rotting out manhood--and womanhood
too--rotting out humanity because capitalism makes unfair divisions of
the profits of industry, giving the workers a share that keeps them in a
man-rotting environment, and we're going to break up the system--the
whole infernal profit system--the blight of capitalism upon the world."
Grant brought down his hand on Morty's frail shoulder in a kind of
frenzy. "Oh, it's coming--the Democracy of Labor is coming in the earth,
bringing peace and hope--hope that is the 'last gift of the gods to
men'--Oh, it's coming! it's coming." His eyes were blazing and his voice
high pitched. He caught Morty's eyes and seemed to shut off all other