A strange sight met the gaze of the reporter. On the floor were two of the men who had been in the habit of working in the rooms. On top of each of them sat a detective; Jones on one and Douglass on the other. The men were trying to get up, but the detectives prevented them by holding their heads close to the floor. In the corner was the third man, and in front of him was a third detective, who had a short club in his hand. Every now and again the detective would jab the man in the stomach with the billy, causing the man to double up like a jumping-jack. “Keep still!” cried the detective. “How can I when you keep tickling me with that club!” exclaimed the man. “I don’t care how you do it, only keep still!” the officer repeated, giving the man another jab. “We’ll show you counterfeiters how to behave!” “Counterfeiters?” the man repeated, apparently in great astonishment. “Yes, counterfeiters. You can’t fool us any longer. We’ve got you dead to rights. We’ll seize your whole plant, and confiscate all the bad half-dollars you’ve been making. We’ve been watching you for some time. We know how you melt the metal up and then pour it into moulds!” “Counterfeiters! You are crazy!” cried the man. “That boy there,” pointing to Larry, whom he just then saw, “he knows better than that. He knows what we make!” “I guess you’ve made a mistake this time,” remarked Mr. Newton, coming forward. “How are you, Jones, and you too, Douglass?” “Um!” grunted the detectives, still sitting on their prisoners. “I guess we know a counterfeiting plant when we see one. You can’t fool us!” “Lift up that sheet,” said the man in the corner, nodding to Larry to raise a cloth that covered a long table. The boy did so. “That’s what we’ve been making, out of melted lead!” the man in the corner went on, dodging another jab from the detective’s club. “They’re only toy soldiers for the holiday trade. We make them of old lead which we melt up, and then we color them. We didn’t want the other manufacturers to know about it. It’s getting near Christmas and we’re making up an extra lot to sell on the streets. We’re not counterfeiters. You’ve made a mistake. I asked Larry to come in the rooms the other day to get his opinion on whether or not they were good-looking soldiers, and he said they were fine ones; didn’t you, Larry?” asked the man. Larry nodded in assent. The detectives looked rather foolish. Someone in the crowd, that had gathered outside the door, began to laugh. Soon there were several titters. “Would you mind letting me up now?” asked the man on whom Detective Jones was sitting. “Me too,” said the other prostrate one. “Get up!” growled the detectives, much disgusted at the outcome of the affair.