"And in union there is strength," quoted Mr. Jimson. "We must hang together," declared another. "Speaking of hanging," observed one, "how would it do to begin with Bangs? I'd like to see him dangling at the end of a rope." "Better starve him," murmured another. But these futile remarks were cut off when John Ryder began to speak seriously. He suggested that a committee be appointed to confer in a quiet way with Bangs and try to pacify him if possible--even if it cost some money. Some arrangement should be made, too, for the retention of the servants. Ryder was at once elected by acclamation to head this committee. The colonel refused to be a member. "You want cool men--calm men, suh," said the bristling old fellow. "I am a fire-eater. I'd rather wring that skunk's neck than take a drink!" "Oh, Colonel!" exclaimed Jimson, "that is a very strong statement." "I know it. But it's a fact. I know my weaknesses," said the colonel modestly. First the committee were to make sure of the truth of the manager's statement regarding the coal supply. Then they were to sound the help through the steward, Al, to find out how many would remain. To learn what the prospect was for feeding the people in the house, including the help, was likewise important. "If the coal gives out," Ryder said, "there is surely coal in the village here that may be bought. Perhaps not tonight, but early in the morning. We should be able to find oil lamps and heaters in that big store which I see is still open for business. The town has no gas plant, I understand. We are dependent upon the hotel's lighting plant." The committee divided to attend to several of these matters before going to see Bangs, agreeing to meet at the desk in ten minutes. "I must not leave Ruth alone any longer," thought John Ryder, pulling himself up short. "By thunder! there must be something more important for a bridegroom to do on his wedding night than running about as I am, shouldering other people's troubles. I must go and take a peep at the dear girl and cheer her up a bit. She'll be frightened by my remaining so long away, perhaps. No doubt she has heard by this time of the manager's threat." As his suite was on the second floor he did not use the elevator, but ran up the broad, main stairway which led out of the office. Here the hotel seemed to be running in its usual quiet way. A white-capped and aproned maid passed him; a bellboy bustled by with a tray of pitchers in which the ice tinkled; he heard the dull whir of the elevators. He walked along the broad, central corridor and turned off at his own proper "alley." He saw that the door of his suite was open. There were voices which reached his quickened ear--a man's deep tones and then (and this startled him) a woman's sharp cry. He was not yet sufficiently familiar with Ruth's voice to recognize its tone under stress of emotion. But he felt, somehow, that it was her cry.