le the
trades unions have done their work well. I shall not accept, in the
event of my election, the programme which Mr. Dartrey has laid down,
unless I am elected with a special mandate to do so."

Saunderson rose to his feet, a man of different type, blunt of speech,
rugged, the typical working-man's champion except for his voice, which
was of unexpected tone and quality.

"Mr. Weavel and the rest of you," he said, "I differ from Miller.
That's lucky, because you can vote now not only for the man but the
principle. I have loathed strikes all my life, just because I am
political economist enough to loathe waste and to hate to see production
fettered,--that is, where the fruits of the production are shared fairly
with Labour. I like Dartrey's scheme and I am prepared to stand by it."

Saunderson sat down. Dartrey and Tallente left the room while the
business of voting went on. Dartrey had a private room of his own in
the rear of the building and he and Tallente made their way there.

"Those men have a good deal to decide," Tallente reflected. "It's queer
how the balance of things has changed. I don't suppose any Cabinet
Council for years has had to tackle a more important problem."

"I wonder how they'll vote," Dartrey speculated. "Weavel's our man."

"You can't tell," Tallente replied. "You've given them something fresh
to think about. They may even decide not to vote to-day at all. Miller
has some strong supporters. He appeals tremendously to a certain class
of labour--and that class exists, you know, Dartrey--which loves the
excitement and the loafing of a strike, which feels somehow or other
that benefits got in any other way than by force are less than they
ought to have been."

There was a knock at the door. Northern put in his head. He was the
Boot and Shoe representative.

"Thought I'd let you know how the thing's gone," he said. "There's an
unholy row there. They've chucked Miller. Saunderson's in by five
votes. I'm off back again. Miller's up speaking, tearing mad."

He nodded and disappeared. Dartrey held out his hand.

"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "Let's clear cut, Tallente. Nora must know
about this at once. We'll call at the House and enter your amendment
against the vote of confidence. And then--Nora. I am not sure,
Tallente--the man's a subtle fellow--but I rather think we've driven
the final nail into Miller's coffin."

CHAPTER XXI

The great night came and passed with fewer thrills than