he blowing-engines--a clatter of horses' hoofs and the
grinding of carriage wheels on the pike. Gordon signed quickly to
Kincaid and drew back carefully behind the bole of the opposite poplar.

It was the Warwick Lodge surrey, and it stopped at the gate. Two men got
out and went up the path, and an instant later, Kincaid followed
stealthily.

Gordon waited for the next gas-flare, and by the light of it he threw
the breech-block of the repeating rifle to make sure the cartridge was
in place. Then he, too, passed through the wicket and went to stand in
the shadow of the slab-floored porch, redolent of memories. He had
forgotten the lesser vengeance in the thirst for the greater,--that he
had come to fling their misfortunes into the faces of the father and the
son, and to tell them that the work was his. He heard only the voice of
the savage in his heart, and that was whispering "Kill! kill!"

* * * * *

It was close on midnight when the door giving on the porch opened and
two men stood on the threshold. The younger of the two was speaking.

"It's quieter than usual to-night. That was a good move--getting Ludlow
and the two Helgersons jailed. I was in hopes we could snaffle old Caleb
with the others. He pretends to be peacemaking, but as long as he is
loose, these fools will hang to the idea that they're fighting his
battle against us."

"It is already fought," said the older man dejectedly. "My luck has
gone. When Henniker puts us to the wall, we shall be beggars."

The young man's rejoinder was an exclamation of contempt.

"You've lost your nerve. What you need most is to go to bed and sleep.
Wait for me till I've made a round of the guards, and we'll go home.
Better ring up the surrey right now."

He left the porch on the side nearest the furnace, and Gordon saw an
active figure glide from the shelter of a flask-shed and go in pursuit.
He followed at a distance. It was needful only that he should know where
to find Farley when Kincaid should have squared his account.

The leisurely chase led the round of the great gates first, and thence
through the deserted and ruined coke yard to the foot of the huge slag
dump, cold now from the long shut-down.

Tom looked to see Farley turn back from the toe of the dump. There were
no gates on that side of the yard, and consequently no guards.

But the short cut to the office was up the slope of the dump and along
the railway track over whi