ton! Ay, that is her name. An arrant flirt the little hussy is,
but very pretty."

"I will tell you in plain words," said Jem, angered, "what I have got to
say to you. I'm an old friend of Mary's and her father's, and I want to
know if you mean fair by Mary or not."

"You will have the kindness to leave us to ourselves," answered Carson
contemptuously. "No one shall interfere between my little girl and me.
Get out of my way! Won't you? Then I'll make you!"

He raised his cane, and smote the mechanic on his face. An instant
afterwards he lay stretched in the muddy road, Jem standing over him,
panting with rage. Just then a policeman, who had been watching them
unobserved, interfered with expostulations and warnings.

"If you dare to injure her," shouted Jem, as he was dragged away, "I
will wait you where no policeman can step in between. And God shall
judge between us two!"

* * * * *

The mill-workers had struck against low wages. Five haggard, earnest-
looking men had presented the workpeople's demands to the assembled
mill-owners, and the demands had been rejected. None had been fiercer in
opposing the delegates, none more bitter in mockery of their rags and
leanness, than the son of old Mr. Carson.

That evening, starved, irritated, despairing men gathered to hear the
delegates tell of their failure.

"It's the masters as has wrought this woe," said John Barton in a low
voice. "It's the masters as should pay for it. Set me to serve out the
masters, and see if there's aught I'll stick at!"

Deeper and darker grew the import of the speeches as the men stood
hoarsely muttering their meaning out with set teeth and livid looks.
After a fierce and terrible oath had been sworn, a number of pieces of
paper, one of them marked, were shuffled in a hat. The gas was
extinguished; each drew a paper. The gas was re-lighted. Each examined
his paper, with a countenance as immovable as he could make it. Then
they went every one his own way.

He who had drawn the marked paper had drawn the lot of the assassin. And
no one, save God and his own conscience, knew who was the appointed
murderer.

_III.--Murder_

Two nights later, Barton was to leave for Glasgow, whither he was to
travel as delegate to entreat assistance for the strikers. "What could
be the matter with him?" thought Mary. He was so restless; he seemed so
fierce, too.

Presently he rose, and in a short, cold manner bade her