it!"

Mary smiled herself at that, and she smiled again the next morning when
she saw the women coming through the gate.

"Report in your old locker room," her letter had read, "and bring your
working clothes."

By nine o'clock more than half the automatic machines were busy, and
women were still arriving.

"The canteen's going again," ran the report up and down the aisles.

At half past ten the old gong sounded in the lathe room, and the old tea
wagon began its old-time trundling. In addition to refreshments each
woman received a rose-bud--"From Miss Spencer. With thanks and best
wishes."

"Do you know if the piano's here yet?" asked a brisk looking matron in
sky blue overalls.

"Yep," nodded the tea girl. "When I came through, they were taking the
cover off it, and fixing up the rest room."

"Isn't it good to be back again!" said the brisk young matron to her
neighbour. "Believe me or not, I haven't seen a dancing floor since I
quit work here."

Mrs. Ridge had been appointed forewoman. Just before noon she reported to
Mary.

"There'll be a lot more tomorrow," she said. "When these get home,
they'll do nothing but talk about it; and I keep hearing of women who
are fixing things up at home so they can come in the morning. So don't
you worry, Miss Spencer, this strike isn't going to hurt you none,
but--Ha-ha-ha!--Excuse me," she said, suddenly checking her mirth again
and looking very red and solemn.

"I like to hear you laugh," said Mary, "but what's it about this time!"

"Mrs. Strauss is here. I told you she would be. She left her husband home
to do the housework and today is washday--that's the funny part of it!"

Whatever Mrs. Ridge's ability as a critic of humour might be, at least
she was a good prophet. Nearly all the machines were busy the next
morning, and new arrivals kept dropping in throughout the day.

Mary began to breathe easy, but not for long.

"I don't want to be a gloom," reported Archey, "but the lathe hands are
trying to get the grinders to walk out. They say the men must stick
together, or they'll all lose their jobs."

She looked thoughtful at that.

"I think we had better get the nursery ready," she said. "Let's go and
find the painters."

It was a pleasant place--that nursery--with its windows overlooking the
river and the lawn. In less than half an hour the painters had spread
their sheets and the teamster had gone for a load of white sand. The cots
and mattresses were pu