The day following the outbreak at the mills was Saturday. From early morning rumors of further trouble had filled the air. Yet everything was quiet. No union workmen had been molested, even the pickets of the Industrial workers had been withdrawn. People versed in the ways of syndicalism predicted that it was the calm before the storm. They were right. At noon, information, carried by dependable spies, reached the Barriscale headquarters to the effect that the cause of the Industrialists in Fairweather had been taken up by their brethren in a neighboring city, and that active and aggressive aid was to be immediately forthcoming. Incensed at the treatment of their fellows by the police, angered that one of their women should be wounded, they were to march in a body on the Barriscale works, and demand reinstatement for their brethren, under penalty of having the works taken over by the Industrialist army. It was a desperate programme; it called for drastic measures of prevention. The chief of police admitted that his force would be unable to cope with such a body of marchers and rioters as the Industrialists could undoubtedly muster. The state police had troubles of their own at the coal mines and could not be spared. It was plain that the National Guard must be looked to for protection. An appeal to the Governor of the State by the mayor of Fairweather resulted, after a considerable exchange of telegrams, in the giving of authority to use the militia to prevent rioting. It was late in the afternoon when the order came down through regimental headquarters to Captain Murray to mobilize his men at the armory, to hold them in readiness for immediate action, and to use his discretion about putting them into the field. At seven o’clock ninety-five per cent of the enlisted men were present at the armory and under arms. They were lounging about the drill-hall, sitting in the company room, indulging in athletic sports in the basement. Some one said that the story of the proposed invasion was a false alarm anyway, and that there would be nothing doing. At seven-thirty Captain Murray jumped into a waiting automobile and started for his home, promising to return inside of an hour. At half-past eight the telephone bell in the officers’ quarters rang viciously again and again. “Central must be having a fit!” said the second lieutenant putting the receiver to his ear. McCormack, facing him as he sat, saw his eyes widen and his face go white. Brownell turned from the transmitter long enough to explain to Hal: “Murray’s been in a smash-up; badly hurt; taken to hospital!” Then he asked some hurried questions of the person who was talking to him, apparently obtained all the information he could, and hung up the receiver. Hal still sat facing him with expectant and apprehensive eyes. “That’s terrible!” exclaimed the second lieutenant. “What happened?” asked McCormack.