"Av they have," nodded Mulloy, "the most av thim should be satisfied.
It's a clane little pile av money we made in thot railroad business,
Ephraim."

"You bate!" chuckled the Vermonter. "Take us together, Barney and we
make a hull team, with a little dog under the wagon."

"As a business partner," said the Irishman, "Oi'll take a down-east
Yankee ivery toime. Begobs, Ephie, ye know how to do business all
roight, all roight!"

"And as a railroad construction boss," grinned Gallup, "yeou're right up
to date, Barney. Yeou handled your end of the business slick as a
whistle while I was lookin' arter my end. I wonder what they're stoppin'
here for?"

The train was pulling up at a junction. On questioning the porter, they
learned that there would be a stop of nearly twenty minutes while other
cars were taken on from another route.

Gallup proposed that they should step out on the platform and get some
air. Neither Teresa nor Juanita seemed anxious to do this, so Ephraim
and Barney left them in the car.

The junction was a bustling little town, and there was a great deal
going on in the vicinity of the station.

Mulloy and Gallup lighted cigars and promenaded the platform.

At the far end they observed a group of men and boys surrounding a
person who stood on a small square box, making a speech. This person
was bareheaded, and his hair was unusually long and disheveled. He was
dressed in a loose suit of light-colored clothes, wore a negligee shirt,
with a soft turndown collar, and had no vest. His back was toward Barney
and Ephraim as they approached.

"Begorra! it's natural he looks," muttered the Irishman.

"Gol-dinged if that ain't right!" agreed Gallup. "Somehow his voice
sounds kinder nateral, too."

They paused at the edge of the group to listen.

"Friends and brothers," cried the speaker, in a clear, sad voice, "I
presume many of you heard me speak on your public square last evening.
Still it is possible that some of you were not there to listen to my
words, to hear my warning of the great coming clash of the classes. It
is as inevitable as the sinking of yonder sun to-night and its rise
again to-morrow. With a prophetic eye I look into the future and behold
the day when labor shall have its rights. That day is coming as surely
as the sun continues to rise in the east. The iron hand of Capital would
hold it back, but that cruel iron hand cannot, Joshua-like, stay the
course of the sun nor stem the tide