man to handle workers. I only heard about him to-night, but I'm going to
see him to-morrow."

Leaning back in his seat Tom laughed heartily as he told of the traveling
man who had visited Joe Wainsworth's shop and the placing of the order for
the factory-made harness. In some intangible way he felt that when Jim
Gibson laid the order for the harness on the bench in the shop and by the
force of his personality compelled Joe Wainsworth to sign, he justified
all such men as himself. In imagination he lived in that moment with Jim,
and like Jim the incident aroused his inclination to boast. "Why, a lot
of cheap laboring skates can't down such men as myself any more than Joe
Wainsworth could down that Jim Gibson," he declared. "They ain't got the
character, you see, that's what the matter, they ain't got the character."
Tom touched some mechanism connected with the engine of the car and it shot
suddenly forward. "Suppose one of them labor leaders were standing in the
road there," he cried. Instinctively Hugh leaned forward and peered into
the darkness through which the lights of the car cut like a great scythe,
and on the back seat Clara half rose to her feet. Tom shouted with delight
and as the car plunged along the road his voice rose in triumph. "The damn
fools!" he cried. "They think they can stop the machines. Let 'em try. They
want to go on in their old hand-made way. Let 'em look out. Let 'em look
out for such men as Jim Gibson and me."

Down a slight incline in the road shot the car and swept around a wide
curve, and then the jumping, dancing light, running far ahead, revealed a
sight that made Tom thrust out his foot and jam on the brakes.

In the road and in the very center of the circle of light, as though
performing a scene on the stage, three men were struggling. As the car
came to a stop, so sudden that it pitched both Clara and Hugh out of their