be regarded as a public enemy."

"No doubt, but that time is a long way ahead!"

"We must look to the future," said his friend. "We must work for the
future, too!"

CHAPTER I

AT THE BUTTON MILL

Elsie Welcome was the one girl in the big machine room of the Millville
button factory who did not rise when the bell sounded for the short
afternoon recess. She swung on her revolving stool away from her machine
and looked eagerly, thirstingly towards the windows where the other girls
were crowding for breath of the fresh June air, but she did not stir to
follow them. A resolution stronger than her own keen need of the
recreation moments was singling out this young girl from among her two
hundred companions, laughing and talking together.

"I will speak to Mr. Kemble now--now," she promised herself, watching for
the foreman to enter the machine room, according to his daily custom at
this hour. Elsie nerved herself to a task difficult to perform, even
after her three years of work in the factory, even though she was one of
the most skilful workers here.

She drew up her charmingly modeled little figure tensely, and held her
small head high, her pure, beautiful features aglow with delicate color,
her slender, shapely hands clasping and unclasping each other.

The foreman came into the room. Elsie rose from her place and went to
meet him, pushing back the pretty tendrils of her hair.

"Mr. Kemble," she said, "I should like to speak to you a moment."

Hiram Kemble was a tall, thin young man, deeply conscious of his own
importance and responsibilities. He had risen by assiduous devotion to
the details of button making from office boy to his present exalted
state. His mind had become a mere filing cabinet for information
concerning the button business.

He stood regarding the girl before him, feeling the attraction of her
beauty and resenting it. He did not dislike her; he did not understand
her, and it was his nature to distrust what he did not understand.

"Well," he said, with professional brusqueness, "what is it?"

"I wanted to ask you to--to--" Elsie hesitated, then went on with
courage, "to raise my wages."

He looked at her in amazement, displeased. "How much are you getting
now?"

"Only eight dollars a week."

"Only!" Hiram Kemble was satirical. "That's as much as the others are
getting."

"I know it. But it's not enough. Our expenses a