he inevitable?"

Max turned away. "This trebling of output does not seem like unwilling
submission to the inevitable, Dale," he whispered savagely. "Come, let
us get out of this--I'm choking here. The place reeks to me of
treachery. If I had the strength of Samson I would bring the roof down
and bury the whole villainous crew beneath the ruins."

"There's certainly something dirty going on," agreed Dale. "But if we're
not Samsons we have strength enough to put a spoke in their wheel, I
fancy. Let us wait a bit and see."

In savage silence the two lads left the casting-shops and walked
mechanically on towards the buildings which had been engaged on
peace-time work. Here all was quiet and almost deserted. Only a machine
here and there was running, and at first they thought that the whole of
the workmen had been diverted to the other shops. But at the farther end
of the yard they presently noticed groups of men congregated together,
much as they were wont to do in the dinner interval. But it was not the
dinner interval now.

"What's the matter here? This looks as though some part of Schenk's
plans had gone awry. Are they dismissed, or are they refusing to work?"

"Refusing to work, by the look of the armed guards yonder," replied Max,
nodding towards a body of German soldiers, a dozen or more strong,
posted at a corner of one of the buildings within easy reach of the
entrance. "Let us have a talk with one or two of the men and find out
what's afoot."

"Aye, but don't let our German friends see us talking to them. They will
think it a conspiracy."

The two lads joined themselves to one of the groups, and began
questioning them as to the reason for their presence there instead of in
the workshops. But somehow the men seemed to view Max and Dale with
coldness and suspicion, and either refused to reply or answered in
sullen monosyllables. Max was about to turn away, in disappointed
perplexity, when he noticed the man Dubec. In sudden relief he appealed
to him to tell him what was happening.

"It is because we will not work if the goods are to be seized by the
Germans. We are true Belgians--not like those traitors who fill the
shell-shops--and we cannot work against our country."

"And you are right," cried Max warmly. "I am with you heart and soul."

"Huh! But what our men cannot understand is why the firm does not close
down. Why is it left to us poor workmen to show our patriotism? Why does
not the firm take the