“Mates!” he shouted energetically, “do you want to be turned into bacon-eating _m’shumadim_ by Herbert Karne and his sister?” A vigorous reply in the negative rolled towards him like the answer of one man. “Well, then, don’t apologize, don’t play into their hands! Herbert Karne is no true friend of ours! He has taken an interest in our welfare simply that he might convert us all in the end! Four years ago he did his best to make a _m’shumad_ of me, but I resisted before it was too late. We have our wives and children to consider--suppose he converts them against our will? Let us make a firm stand against it, and swear that that shall never be!” Murmurs of indignation and applause came from every throat; but the foreman Blatz held up his hand to still them. “It is false!” he cried in a voice that could be heard at the furthermost corner of the yard. “Mr. Karne is our true friend, and he is not a _m’shumad_. He has told us over and over again that he wishes us to be good Jews and upright men; he has never attempted to teach us any creed but our own. What right, then, have we to say that he is not a good Jew?” “Every right!” replied the dark-bearded man vehemently. “If Herbert Karne were a good Jew, he would not have received his sister into his house after she became a Christian. He should have treated her as Bernie Franks would have done had he lived; he ought to have cast her adrift. Listen here, friends, Strelitzki is right. If we allow ourselves to be ruled by the people at the Towers, we shall find our wives and children being led astray. Only yesterday my little girl Blume met with a slight accident whilst out on an errand. Miss Celia Franks used it as an excuse to entice her to the Towers, where she kept her for some time. What she said to the child I do not know, but when my wife undressed Blume at night, she discovered this”--lifting a crucifix high above their heads--“hung round her neck. Comrades, are we to stand by without protest in the face of an insult such as this?” “No, no!” responded the angry crowd, their ire aroused at the sight of the offending emblem. “Stamp on it! Crush the trumpery thing! Down with those who dare to tamper with our religion! Down with _m’shumadim_!” A crucifix around a Jewish child’s neck! It was the worst indignity that could have been offered to them, for nothing could have shocked them more. Here was proof positive of Celia Franks’ intention to convert their children by force; here was virtually their call to arms. Even the foreman Blatz knew not what to think; like the rest of them he was amazed and shocked. In vain now did he urge them to establish peace; the incident of the crucifix decided what their course of action should be.