n her room when she
was still alive."

In the woodshed Tom resurrected the hidden treasure and took off the
wrapping paper. Appeared a rusty, steel-scabbarded saber of the heavy
type carried by cavalry officers in Civil War days. It was attached to
a moth-eaten sash of thick-woven crimson silk from which hung heavy silk
tassels. Saxon almost seized it from her brother in her eagerness. She
drew forth the blade and pressed her lips to the steel.

It was her last day at the laundry. She was to quit work that evening
for good. And the next afternoon, at five, she and Billy were to go
before a justice of the peace and be married. Bert and Mary were to be
the witnesses, and after that the four were to go to a private room in
Barnum's Restaurant for the wedding supper. That over, Bert and Mary
would proceed to a dance at Myrtle Hall, while Billy and Saxon
would take the Eighth Street car to Seventh and Pine. Honeymoons are
infrequent in the working class. The next morning Billy must be at the
stable at his regular hour to drive his team out.

All the women in the fancy starch room knew it was Saxon's last day.
Many exulted for her, and not a few were envious of her, in that she had
won a husband and to freedom from the suffocating slavery of the ironing
board. Much of bantering she endured; such was the fate of every girl
who married out of the fancy starch room. But Saxon was too happy to be
hurt by the teasing, a great deal of which was gross, but all of which
was good-natured.

In the steam that arose from under her iron, and on the surfaces of the
dainty lawns and muslins that flew under her hands, she kept visioning
herself in the Pine Street cottage; and steadily she hummed under her
breath her paraphrase of the latest popular song:

"And when I work, and when I work, I'll always work for Billy."

By three in the afternoon the strain of the piece-workers in the humid,
heated room grew tense. Elderly women gasped and sighed; the color went
out of the cheeks of the young women, their faces became drawn and dark
circles formed under their eyes; but all held on with weary, unabated
speed. The tireless, vigilant forewoman kept a sharp lookout for
incipient hysteria, and once led a narrow-chested, stoop-shouldered
young thing out of the place in time to prevent a collapse.

Saxon was startled by the wildest scream of terror she had ever heard.
The tense thread of human resolution snapped; wills and nerves broke
down,