"I want to go up to Marrin's to-morrow and get the girls out on strike." "What's that?" "I've done it before; I can do it again." Joe laughed softly. "Miss Sally, what would I do without you? I'd go stale on life, I think." She made an impulsive movement toward him. "Mr. Joe." "Yes?" "I want to help you--every way." "I know you do." His voice was a little husky, and he looked up and met her fine, clear eyes. Then she turned away, sadly. "You'll let me do it?" "Oh, no!" he said firmly. "The idea's appealing, but you mustn't think of it, Miss Sally. It will only stir up trouble." "We ought to." "Not for this." "But the shirtwaist-makers are working in intolerable conditions; they're just ready to strike; a spark would blow 'em all up." He shook his head. "Wait--wait till we see what my next number does!" Sally said no more; but her heart nursed her desire until it grew to an overmastering passion. She left for the night, and Joe sat down, burning with the fires of righteousness. And he wrote an editorial that altered the current of his life. He wrote: FORTY-FIVE TREACHEROUS MEN Theodore Marrin and the forty-four who went back to work for him: Every one of you is a traitor to American citizenship. Let us use blunt words and call a spade a spade. Theodore Marrin, you have betrayed your employees. You forty-four men, you have betrayed yourselves and your leader. And so it went, sharp, incisive, plain-spoken--words that were hot brands and burned. He was sitting at this task (twice his mother had called him to supper and he had waved her away) when an exquisite black-eyed little woman came in. "Mr. Blaine?" "Yes." "I'm Mrs. Izon." Joe wheeled about and seized her hand. "Tell me to do something for you! You and your brave husband!" Mrs. Izon spoke quietly: "I came here because Jacob is so worried. He is afraid you will harm yourself for us." Joe laughed softly. "Tell him not to worry any longer. It's you who are suffering--not I. I? I am only having fun." She was not satisfied. "We oughtn't to get others mixed up in our troubles." "It's hard for you, isn't it?" Joe murmured. "Yes." She smiled sadly. "I suppose it isn't right when you are in the struggle to get married. Not right to the children." Joe spoke courageously. "Never you mind, Mrs. Izon--but just wait. Wait three--four days. We'll see!" They did wait, and they did see. VI A FIGHT IN GOOD EARNEST