st these men."

"Better get a warrant first," said one of the strikers coolly. "We
simply came in here to have a drink," he explained to the officer.

"Phat's th' row hier, Tony?" asked the policeman.

"Th' ain't no row as I can see," said the bar-keeper, "these gents is
'aving a quiet drink w'en 'ees nibs there pips in an' calls fer a cop."

"This is one of our engineers," explained the foreman, "and I was on the
way to the station with him when these strikers took him away."

"Begad, he's a bute," said the officer, folding his arms over his ample
stomach and gazing with mirthful curiosity at the bum.

"Now, ye's fellies must not interfere with men as wants to make an
honest living--let th' ingineer go t' 'is ingine," and he gave Billy a
shove that sent him into the arms of the waiting foreman.

"What's it _to_ you," shouted the angry engine-driver, "who wants to
work--who said I wanted t' make a' honest livin'?--Go t' 'ell," and he
struck the foreman in the face.

"Here! Here!!" cried the officer, seizing the fighter, "you'll go to
work or go to jail," and Billy went away between the copper and the
foreman with his wheels sliding.

After much coaxing and cursing by the foreman, who was often asked to
come out in the alley and settle it, Billy was loaded into an engine
cab. While the foreman was selecting a fireman from the hard-looking
herd of applicants sent down from the office of the master-mechanic, the
gentle warmth of the boiler-head put Billy to sleep. It was a sound, and
apparently dreamless sleep, from which he did not wake the while they
rolled him from the engine, loaded him into a hurry-up wagon and
carried him away to the cooler.

When he had sobered up Greene went to the round-house and offered his
services to the company, but the foreman would not talk to him. Finally
Greene became abusive, and the foreman kicked him out of the round-house
and across the turntable. From that day Greene was a striker, and a very
troublesome one.

CHAPTER EIGHTH

Two weeks had passed when the Philosopher met Patsy, now in deep
disgrace. Patsy had been expelled from the Brotherhood for aiding a
scab. "O! it's nothing," said Patsy.

"That's right. It won't be worth much to belong to the Union when this
cruel war is over."

"Only a fellow hates to get the worst of it when he really tries to tote
fair."

"The best you can get is the worst of it when you are bound by oath to
an organization that is e