On the following Monday morning, at ten minutes before seven, Hal presented himself at the armory, ready for work. Ben Barriscale was already there, but Superintendent McCrae had not yet arrived. The building was practically completed and it was the interior finishing that was now, for the most part, occupying the attention of the workmen. As Hal entered the large drill-hall he saw Ben standing on the farther side of it, and crossed over to meet him. He greeted him pleasantly, but the ironmaster’s son was not responsive, and seemed to be in anything but a cheerful mood. “Well,” asked Hal in an effort to be companionable, “what do you suppose they’ll put us at?” “I don’t know,” was the blunt reply. “And I don’t care much. Whatever the job is I’m sick of it already.” Hal tried to be encouraging. “That isn’t the way to look at it,” he protested. “We’re into it, we’ve got to make the best of it. Maybe we can find a little sport in it after all. Let’s try.” “You’re welcome to work like a common laborer if you want to, and get what fun out of it you can. I don’t fancy the prospect.” Ben turned away and started to cross the hall alone. But he evidently changed his mind, for he wheeled around and came back to where Hal was standing. “Say,” he asked abruptly, “was that your gang that put the sign on our gate-post Hallowe’en?” “You mean the sign ‘Puppies for sale’?” “That’s what I mean.” “Yes; that was our crowd.” “Was it you that wrote on that sign: ‘Young Ben is the only puppy left’?” “No; I didn’t write it.” “Who did write it?” “I don’t choose to tell.” “Why not?” “You know why not. Would you give another fellow away if you were in my place?” “I would if he did as mean and contemptible a trick as that.” “I don’t admit that it was mean and contemptible.” “Then you’re ready to stand for it, are you?” The voices of the two boys in controversy had attracted the attention of some workmen who were standing near, awaiting the blowing of the seven o’clock gong, and they moved over to the scene of the quarrel. “The stout one’s Mr. Barriscale’s son,” said one of the men, “and the other one is Captain McCormack’s boy. I know ’em both.” “Well,” was the response, “they’re both blue-bloods; let ’em fight it out, an’ see who’s the best fellow.” By this time both boys were too excited to notice the gathering men or to hear their comments. Ben’s voice had grown louder as his anger increased, his face was deeply flushed, and his eyes had a dangerous look in them. “I’m ready,” replied Hal, “to stand for anything my crowd did that night. That’s why I’m the only one of ’em here this morning.” “Then I’ll make you sorry you’re here.”