me, I'd like to go."

"We will all go together," Maraton decided. "We can creep in somewhere
at the back, I suppose. I want to hear how they do it."

The young man's face lit up with joy.

"There's sure to be lots of people there," he declared, "but we can find
a seat at the back quite easily."

"What's it all about?" Maraton asked.

"The proposed boiler-maker's strike," Aaron replied eagerly. "The
meeting is really a meeting of the workpeople at Boulding's. But are
you sure you won't go on the platform, sir?"

Maraton shook his head.

"That is just what I don't want to do. I want to see what these
meetings are like, what sort of arguments are used, what the spirit of
the people is, if I can. That is what I would really like to find out,
Aaron--the spirit of the people."

The young man looked up from his work. He was greatly changed during
the last few hours. He was wearing a new suit of clothes and clean
linen; his hair had been cut, his face shaved. Yet in some respects he
was unaltered. His eyes still burned in their sockets, his lips still
quivered.

"I will tell you what the people are like," he said. "They are like