"Get the lawyer to have some one stay all night at the plant." "There's the foreman, Bartlett, I understand." "Yes, day times. You do as I say." "I'll stay myself." "That might do. You are interested, aren't you, mightily? Then so am I. Say, inasmuch as I've blabbed a part of it, out with the whole, say I. There's going to be a raid on the factory, as I hinted to you, just after midnight." "A raid?" "Exactly. To-morrow the time for Glidden to put up a bond or pay the four thousand dollars expires." "Yes," replied Ralph, "and by ten o'clock, court time, it will be paid." "Too late." "Eh?" "Hours too late--nigh on to half a day too late." "Why do you say that?" "Because it's a fact." "In what way?" The man screwed his eyes up shrewdly as if he enjoyed making a clever disclosure. Then he said: "Dorsett has made an arrangement with a drunken justice of the peace in the next township to open office at one minute after twelve, midnight. The justice will issue an execution. Inside of an hour Dorsett and his men will be at the factory. They don't have to wait for court time. They intend to levy on the machinery only. They won't put a custodian in charge nor wait for redemption nor anything else. They'll simply rip out all those valuable tank machines and piping that cost a fortune, bid the plunder in at old junk prices and gobble up everything else before Glidden or his lawyer are awake and out of bed." "My man," spoke Ralph rapidly, and moved to indignation and excitement almost beyond control, "are you sure of what you say?" "As I was, up to this morning, one of the men who was to help in wrecking the plant, I reckon I know what I'm talking about," answered the man. "I will pay you to take me up to the plant," said Ralph, "as quickly as you can." "You'll pay me nothing," replied the other. "You needn't be afraid of any trouble until midnight. Dorsett is too keen to overslip the law in any way. His men may hang around and dog your footsteps and spy about and all that, but they'll do no harm until Dorsett has the power right in his hands. Then--look out." "Yes, indeed," said Ralph reflectively. His guide went with him until they came to the factory. Here he left Ralph, saying he was almost starved and must get a good meal. The factory was a grim-looking, isolated, one-story stone building. One end was rounded with brick and had heavy iron shutters. The front was a kind of office. Behind it was an iron partition and a windowless stretch of factory room fully fifty feet in length. Ralph tried the front door and found it locked. In a minute or two, however, a big, stalwart man with a face of considerable character came from the inner room. He did not open the door, but stood at a window and called out: "What do you want?" "Are you Mr. Bartlett?" inquired Ralph. "That's me." "I am a friend to Mr. Glidden, and I come here from his lawyer." "Where's the proof of it? I don't know you," said Bartlett guardedly.