"What is the real stuff, as you call it, young man?" My father's voice had a deadly ring. Joe turned and looked at him as before. "You couldn't understand," he said. "I think I understand enough." Dad rose abruptly and turned to Sue. "Sue," he said. "Shall I ask your anarchist friend to go?" I could feel Sue gather herself. She was white. "I'll have to go with him," she managed to say. A slight spasm shot over our father's face. For a moment there was silence. "You've heard all he said of this life of his?" "Yes." "And what he wants and expects you to do?" "I heard it." "And just how he wants you to live--with nothing you've been used to--nothing? No money but what a few drunken stokers throw your way, no decent ideals, no religion, no home?" Again a pause. "I want to go with him," she brought out at last. Dad turned sharply and left the room. * * * * * I heard a deep breath behind me. It came from Joe Kramer, whose face was set in a frown of pain. "He's so damn old," Joe muttered. "You operated on him hard." Suddenly Sue threw herself on the lounge. She huddled there shaking and motioned us off. "Leave me alone, can't you, go away!" we heard between her sobs. "It's all right--I'm ready--I'll come to you, Joe--but not now--not just now! Go away, both of you--leave me alone!" Joe left the house. Soon after that Eleanore arrived and I told her what had happened. She went in to Sue, I left them together and went up to my father's room. He lay on the bed breathing quickly. "You did splendidly, son," he said. "You slashed into her hard. It hurt me to listen--but it's all right. Let her suffer--she had to. It hit her, I tell you--she'll break down! If we can only keep her here! Get Eleanore!" He stopped with a jerk, his hand went to his heart, and he panted and scowled with pain. "I sent for her," I told him. "She's come and she's in Sue's room now. Let's leave them alone. It's going to be all right, Dad." I sent for a doctor who was an old friend of my father's. He came and spent a long time in the room, and I could hear them talking. At last he came out. "It won't do," he said. "We can't have any more of this. We must keep your sister out of his sight. She can't stay alone with him in this house, and she can't go now to your anarchist friend. If she does it may be the end of your father. Suppose you persuade her to come to you." But here Eleanore joined us. "I have a better plan," she said. "I've been talking to Sue and she has agreed. She's to stay--and we'll move over here and try to keep Sue and her father apart." "What about Joe?" I asked her. "Sue has promised me not to see Joe until the strike is over. It will only be a matter of weeks--perhaps even days--it may break out to-morrow. It's not much of a time for Joe to get married--besides, it's the least she can do for her father--to wait that long. And she has agreed. So that much is settled."