, everything ready, she counted a precious two hundred dollars left
in the heart-shaped box. That, with what she had not spent from her
ridiculously big allowance, seemed a fortune.

Saturday dawned a crisp, cold, bright day, promising to the expectant
sponsors of the House of Laughter, all kinds of success. But at twelve
o'clock a little group of mill workers, chosen by their fellows, went to
Frank Norris, the Superintendent, and asked for higher wages and better
living conditions, Adam Kraus acting as their leader. It was not the
first time these complaints and requests had been laid before the
superintendent--but now, in the hearts of the hundreds of men and girls
who hung around the yards long after the noon whistle blew, a new hope
kindled, for there had never before been a man among them who could talk
so convincingly as Adam Kraus or could more effectually make old Norris
realize that they all knew now, to a man, that they could get more money
almost anywhere else and work and live like decent human beings. Adam
Kraus had opened their eyes. He was their hero--for the moment. As he
came, somewhat precipitously, from the office building they gave a quick
shout that died, however, with a menacing suddenness, as they saw his
failure written on his angry face. They pressed about him, eager for
details, but he would tell them nothing beyond a curt admission that he
had not been able to make Norris listen.

"I say, go to the Manor!" cried a man who had not been at the Mills more
than a month.

A strapping girl, with a coarse prettiness, laughed a mocking strident
laugh that expressed the feelings of the crowd even more than the louder
curses around her. The workers slowly dispersed, in little groups,
talking in excited, angry tones. Dale Lynch detached himself from one of
these groups and walked on alone, a frown darkening his face; nor did he
shake off his absorption even after he sat down at the table to eat his
mother's good Saturday meal--overcooked for standing.

"Has Adam been to Norris again?" asked big Danny.

Dale nodded. It was not necessary for either his father or mother to ask
the outcome of the call. "Norris wouldn't listen to a word. I've been
wondering if Adam is right--about the way to get this."

"He ought to know more'n you do," flared big Danny, who loved something
upon which to vent his own rancor.

"I suppose." Dale admitted, eating with quick, absent-minded gulps. "I'd
like to be the head o