Richard took no part in the turmoil which followed his speech. Returning to his seat in the midst of the uproar, he listened to the harangues made by Tony and the younger radical element of the union in answer to remarks of the older men who were interested in Richard's suggestions. That he was concerned in the outcome was shown by the tenseness of his expression, and the sharp, penetrating glances he shot at the men around him, trying to read their minds.

IV

one of

That John Sibley had stood as his champion was of peculiar significance to Richard, for he was those ex-service boys who came back from heroic deeds over-seas with the idea that their work was finished. Sibley was as splendid an example of young American manhood as one would wish to see. Fired to a burst of patriotism by his country's call to arms, he enlisted as a private and fought his way to glory and a captaincy. He made an enviable record, and deserved the hysterical welcome home given to those first returning troops. Every one looked upon him as a hero, and he saw no reason to disagree with them .. Then came the disillusioning. His old position in the factory was given back to him. That was good enough for John Sibley, private, but far beneath the dignity of Captain John Sibley. Why should he not be advanced in civilian life as he had been in the army? This ambition was laudable, and might have been attained if he had attacked his work with the ferocity he showed when he fought the Boches; but that the fault lay

at his door never occurred to him. In his own eyes he was still a hero, now neglected, and he was forever looking and waiting for that applause which was so ominously lacking. The world was unappreciative and against him! This made grievances easy to find.

If Richard's conception of the new industrial relations appealed to a man of the Sibley type there must be something in it beyond an expression of idealism. If, through it, industry could receive the benefit of the best that men like Sibley could contribute, success was assured. Should his efforts fail, Richard felt that his last interest in anything would disappear; if he won, then the flame ignited in France still flared, translated into living practicality. If the great common cause still survived beneath the débris of deadening non-essentials, he need no longer fear that he was on the outside of the world, for he could again buckle on the armor of the Crusader and make himself a part of that world. What wonder that he felt himself on trial!

V

It was a small thing that turned the verdict in the closest and most bitter fight the Norcross union ever passed through. Tony's impassioned tirades held together the rabid members, but they would have voted with him under any circumstances. There were enough of the conservative element to outvote the others if they could be united. The speeches of Alec Sterling, the stolid superintendent of the works, and John Sibley helped to do this; but it was little Olga Mirovich who won over the doubtful balance of power.

"Hell!" she cried at the top of her voice, climbing onto an upturned packing-case. "You are making a lot of fuss over nothing. Let us appoint the committee as Mr. Richard Norton asks us to do. They will get nothing but the door when they see the boss, and then we can have the strike any way. That will satisfy every one, and the bug will be on the boss!"

VI

The committee was appointed, with Richard its chairman, and Tony Lemholtz left the meeting with but the tattered shreds of his former power. A new labor leader had arisen in Norcross.

CHAPTER X

A

I

FORTNIGHT had passed since the afternoon

when Lola exhorted Richard to remain true to

his idealism by translating his vision into action. During those days which had been so eventful in Richard's life she had received no word from him, so she could only conclude that in spite of her hopefulness she had failed to arouse him beyond temporary interest. What could she do to bring him to a realization of her devotion to him? What could she say which would apply the spark necessary for his complete understanding? She wished that she might bring herself to believe with Richard that their marriage would supply him with a continued inspiration to strive for his ideal; but knowing him, and feeling sure that possession would remove the only incentive, she was sure that his salvation lay in her steadfast adherence to the position she had taken.

Rumors came and went as to labor troubles at the plant, but there was nothing to associate Richard's name with them until Treadway dropped in for an afternoon cup of tea. After his usual desultory conversation, the caller broached the subject on which Lola was

most anxious to receive news and which she most dreaded

to approach.

"Have you seen Dick lately?" he inquired suddenly. "Not. . . for a few days," she replied, unwilling to admit how long it had really been.

"Dick doesn't have much time for his social duties now," Treadway went on smoothly. "I suppose you know he's turned red?"

"Turned red?" Lola repeated.

mean?"

"What do you

"Oh, bolshevist, labor agitator, socialist, . . all that sort of thing, you know. Too bad, isn't it, a fine chap like Dick?"

"Tell me about it," she urged, manifesting an interest which stimulated her companion.

"Why, I thought every one knew . . ."

Treadway blew a cloud of cigarette smoke in front of

him.

"Had an awful row with his father, you know, told him how he ought to run his business, threatened him with all sorts of calamities if he didn't change his methods, left the family roof and fig tree, and now he's living in a tenement down near the plant."

Lola wondered. Did this mean that Richard had received another blow, or that he himself had struck one? Much might have happened during that fortnight. Had these days disclosed to him the direction in which his opportunity lay, or had this break with his father supplied the final evidence that the world was hopelessly askew? Lola suffered from the suspense.

"Poor Dick!" she exclaimed sympathetically. "I am