The episode of the dredge was the last effort to question the power of the regent. The day after its capture Wolf put the men who had helped Norman build it to work operating the big machine, and its huge pumps began to throb in perfect time, piling ton on ton of gold-bearing sand and gravel into the flumes, as faithful to the touch of the thief who had stolen it as to the hand of the man of genius who invented it. The head machinist he ordered to build five duplicates, and placed the entire working force of the mechanical department at once on the job. The daily _New Era_ received a number of protests against the outrage of the inventor's arrest and imprisonment. Two protests were signed by the names of the writers, Diggs and the Bard. There appeared in the paper a warning editorial against sneaks who, under cover of the cause of justice, were seeking to aid treason and rebellion against the State. Diggs and the Bard were summoned before Wolf in person. The regent fixed his gray eyes on Diggs, and the man of questions forgot to smile. "You are not dealing with an amateur now, Diggs," Wolf said, with a sneer. "The insulting letter you wrote----" "I--I--beg your pardon, Mr. Regent," Diggs stammered, "my questions were asked in the spirit of honest inquiry." "I understand their spirit, sir," Wolf growled. "And don't you interrupt me again when I'm talking! Your article was seditious. I've a mind to imprison you a year, but as this is your first offence I'll simply transfer you from the department of accounts to that of garbage and sewerage. Report at once to the overseer." Diggs's lips quivered and he tried to speak, but Wolf froze him with a look and he dropped to a seat. "I said report at once, sir, to the overseer of the department of garbage and sewerage. Did you hear me?" Wolf thundered. Diggs leaped to his feet stammering and retreating. "Yes, sir! Yes, sir! Excuse me. I was only waiting for Comrade Adair, sir! Excuse me, sir, I'll go at once!" He stumbled through the door and disappeared. The Bard of Ramcat watched this scene with increasing terror. He had prepared an eloquent and daring appeal for freedom of speech. He tried to open his mouth, but Wolf's gaze froze the blood in his veins. His tongue refused to move. He sat huddled in a heap, trembling and shifting uneasily in his seat. At length the regent spoke with sneering patronage: "You wield a facile pen, Adair. I admire the glib ability with which you pour out gaseous matter from your overheated imagination." The Bard scrambled to his feet and bowed low in humble submission, fumbling his slouch hat tremblingly. "I meant no harm, sir, I assure you. A great leader of your power and genius can make allowances for poetic fervour. I'm sure you know that my whole soul is aflame with enthusiasm for our noble Cause!" "Well, upon my word," Wolf laughed, "you're developing into a nimble liar! You used to be quite brutal in the frankness of your criticisms."