llars, and Willy
Cameron had banked it for him, but there was a real problem to be
faced. On the night of the day the Cardew Mills went down Willy called a
meeting of the household after supper, around the dining room table. He
had been in to see Mr. Hendricks, who had been laid up with bronchitis,
and Mr. Hendricks had predicted a long strike.

"The irresistible force and the immovable body, son," he said. "They'll
stay set this time. And unless I miss my guess that is playing Doyle's
hand for him, all right. His chance will come when the men have used up
their savings and are growing bitter. Every strike plays into the hands
of the enemy, son, and they know it. The moment production ceases prices
go up, and soon all the money in the world won't pay them wages enough
to live on."

He had a store of homely common sense, and a gift of putting things into
few words. Willy Cameron, going back to the little house that evening,
remembered the last thing he had said.

"The only way to solve this problem of living," he said, "is to see how
much we can work, and not how little. Germany's working ten hours a day,
and producing. We're talking about six, and loafing and fighting while
we talk."

So Willy went home and called his meeting, and knowing Mrs. Boyd's
regard for figures, set down and added or subtracted, he placed a pad
and pencil on the table before him. It was an odd group: Dan sullen,
resenting the strike and the causes that had led to it; Ellen, austere
and competent; Mrs. Boyd with a lace fichu pinned around her neck,
now that she had achieved the dignity of hired help, and Edith. Edith
silent, morose and fixing now and then rather haggard eyes on Willy
Cameron's unruly hair. She seldom met his eyes.

"First of all," said Willy, "we'll take our weekly assets. Of course
Dan will get something temporarily, but we'll leave that out for the
present."

The weekly assets turned out to be his salary and Edith's.

"Why, Willy," said Mrs. Boyd, "you can't turn all your money over to
us."

"You are all the family I have just now. Why not? Anyhow, I'll have
to keep out lunch money and carfare, and so will Edith. Now as to
expenses."

Ellen had made a great reduction in expenses, but food was high. And
there was gas and coal, and Dan's small insurance, and the rent. There
was absolutely no margin, and a sort of silence fell.

"What about your tuition at night school?" Edith asked suddenly.

"Spring term ended thi