The spy with a sudden jerk tried to free himself, but Muldoon's burly fist clenched on his shoulder. The 'longshoremen's meeting had reached its climax, and now a quiet had fallen. Human nature cannot keep itself at a high pitch of excitement indefinitely. The reaction had come. Silence reigned as Grant and his companions, and the two policemen, leading the ashy-faced prisoner, entered the hall. The voice of the clerk was raised as they took places against the back wall of the room. "And now that the speeches have been finished, it is moved and seconded that a vote shall be taken to determine whether a general strike be called by the 'longshoreman against the shipowners of----" A shout from Grant brushed the droning voice of the clerk aside. "Stop! No vote must be taken until this man tells his story." As though stirred by a giant hand, the assemblage recoiled. Men rose from their seats to see the person whose temerity thus interrupted the vote of their Union. Down the aisle the German dock foreman, whose vociferousness of a short time before had helped to keep the evening in an uproar, passed a hand over his face and slid into his seat again. With dragging feet the spy was roughly shoved down the aisle by the two policemen, followed by Grant. They climbed to the platform and faced the listening mass of men. For a moment Grant looked down on them in silence. Then he spoke: "You men are laboring under a delusion. I am here to prove it to you, and this--gentleman," he ironically waved a hand toward the spy, "will help me." He turned to the spy. "Where is the man who gave you orders to turn that boat over? Remember, I know who he is. I want you to tell them." The prisoner glanced over the audience fear-fully. He lifted a limp hand and pointed. "There!" Halfway down the hall the huge form of the dock foreman rose and started with a rush toward the door. But his path was blocked. Hands shot out to seize his and pinion them, struggling, to his sides. Fighting and cursing they carried him to the platform and faced him toward the spy. Ten minutes of excited talking followed, hot with denials and accusations bandied between the foreman and the spy. Suddenly the dock foreman turned to his audience. "He's right! I told him to cut the hawsers to sink the vessel!" The president of the 'Longshoremen's Union broke into the silence that followed the confession. "Phone the shipowners at once!" he called to his secretary. The dock foreman was talking again. "It was the intention to fasten the blame for the depredation on the 'longshoremen. We knew if that ship was turned over nothing could stop a strike. And we want a strike." "Who hired you?" Grant cut in sharply. "A man named Gates." "First name?" "I don't know." "Address?" "I don't know."