"Is there goin' ter be any trouble?" Tom broke in, eagerly. "Not yet, but it's coming. When it does we'll fight it out and win. I've set my life on the issue of this experiment." Joe extended him his hand. "I'm sorry I got drunk. I won't do it again--we'll stand by ye!" "Through thick an' thin," Tom added. "And hereafter, Tom," Norman said with a smile, "I'd like to be consulted before you hold any more sessions of your court up the beach." Tom started. "You've heard about it?" "Yes." "By gum, I knowed I oughter licked that kid again!" the old miner observed, regretfully. Norman, said gravely: "Tom, we are getting into deep water. I've begun to have some doubts about our safety. A leader must lead. And I'm going to do it. Can I depend on you to execute my orders and mine alone?" "Every day in the year," was the firm reply. "The same here," Joe echoed. Barbara had drawn apart from the group of men and stood watching them with keen, suspicious interest as the two miners started homeward with restored good humour. "What did you mean by saying that you were afraid of coming trouble?" Barbara eagerly asked of Norman. "What have you heard? What do you suspect?" "Nothing," he answered, thoughtfully. "But I've had the blues for a week. It's been growing on me that we are not getting on except into situations more and more impossible. There's a screw loose somewhere in our system. There's going to be a wreck unless we find and repair it." "I have felt this, too, and I think I know the cause." "What?" "Liberty which has degenerated into licence. We lack authority and the power to enforce it." "And this is the one thing we cursed in the old system--the law, power, authority." "No," Barbara quickly objected. "We did not rebel against law or the exercise of authority. We rebelled against its unjust use." "And what depresses me is that I am convinced that we must use the power of law with more stern, direct, and personal pressure than ever known under the system of capitalism, or we must fail." "Is not such pressure desirable?" "It depends on who applies the pressure--but it seems inevitable--and it depresses me." Barbara broke into a joyous laugh. "Away with gloomy forebodings! It's only a day's fog. It will lift. The sun is shining behind it now." Her laughter was contagious. Norman smiled in quick sympathy, and a response of hope and courage was just forming itself on his lips when he looked toward the house and saw an excited crowd packed in the doorway. "What on earth is the matter?" Barbara gasped. "Some accident has happened," he replied, quickly. "Come, we must hurry!" Catherine's lithe figure darted down the steps and met them on the lawn. "What is it?" Norman cried. "A murder!" "A murder?" Barbara repeated, incredulously. "Yes--wilful, deliberate, cruel, horrible!" Catherine went on excitedly. "Not old Tom and Joe?" Norman broke in. "No--Blanche----" "Oh, God, I knew it," Barbara gasped. "Go on."