"Very well, you know it. I'll tell you how you know it. It's because there are spies among you who are making it their business to spread the news, to terrify you. They've ruined machinery, caused delays, put every obstacle in our way, and now, when we are almost ready to do business, they're working on you." "They're goin' to blow up this plant," a voice called. "By God!" said Potter, "they sha'n't!" He stopped and glared about him. "I say they sha'n't, and I'll see to it they don't!... This plant belongs to our country. It's working for our country to give her what she needs most." He spoke in a tone almost of reverence as one referring to a sacred place, a sacred thing. His plant was devoted to a sacred work, and in his heart he had a feeling that heaven itself would intervene between it and disaster. "Every man of you is an American citizen," he said, "or you wouldn't be here." "You bet.... You're darn right," men cried here and there. "Would you fight for your country? If there was need, would you put on uniforms and go to fight to save this country? Do you love your country?" There was a silence, a scuffling of feet, an uneasy movement of the mass. "How about it?" Potter demanded. "Would you fight for America?" "I calc'late we would," said a man; "I done it in the Spanish War." His voice was echoed; heads were nodded. "But what's that got to do with it?" a voice demanded. "We hain't wanted to fight." Potter stepped to the edge of the truck and pointed his finger in their faces. "Not a man of you need go back to work. Every man who wants to can go to the office for his pay...." He turned and pointed up to the flag that stood out in the breeze from the flagstaff above the building. "You're working under that," he cried. "We want nobody working under it who is a quitter. What we want here are _men_.... What if there is danger? Your sons and brothers and friends have gone to face real danger, the danger of the trench and the battlefield.... Are they better men than you? Are you willing to admit that they love that flag more than you? If you do admit it, we don't want you here.... You'd fight, you say. You want to see your country victorious.... Well, _make_ her victorious. Her victory is tied to this plant and to _you_. Every man of you is worth a hundred soldiers in France. That's what you mean to America. Every motor you turn out for an aeroplane is worth a regiment. That's what your work means.... And you want to lie down, to quit.... Great God! Is that the sort of Americans you are?... Go to the office. Somewhere we'll find men with _guts_. This work sha'n't fail because a German spy has lied in your ears and frightened you.... I'm through with you. You're willing to let other men do your fighting and face your dangers--and you go home and hide behind your wives when danger is only whispered about. Look at that flag, if you're not ashamed.... Look at it good, and ask yourselves if you'd