"You understand," came in Clark's voice, "what happens when men are not paid--especially the type of many of our employees. The Swede and Hungarian are apt to be ugly. Further--an unpaid payroll has a bad effect on a company's securities, to say nothing of the effect on business confidence in St. Marys. You have, of course, weighed all this." Brewster's eyes were very grave and his face flushed. "I'm sorry, but I'm doing what I take to be my duty," he said with a desperate effort. The older man's mood changed as though in a flash. "In that case I've nothing more to say." He got up. "Come on, Hobbs, Mr. Brewster seems immovable. We'll have to wire Philadelphia for the money." With that he went briskly out. The banker looked after him in wonderment. The poignant instant was over, and he pondered whether, after all, he had done right. His cipher message sent to Toronto as soon as the news from the works reached him, was still unanswered, but, he reflected, he had tried to act on what he believed to be Thorpe's judgment as well as his own. Should the telegram for which he waited not confirm his decision, there was time enough to apprise Clark of the fact that night. And just then the mayor entered the office and sat down, mopping his face. "What about it?" he demanded presently. "I don't know any more than you do--possibly not as much." "Well," said Filmer absently, "there's a lot going round. Some have it the works are seized for debt, others that there's a mistake in the rails, others that the Philadelphia directors have resigned. Anyway half the thing seems to have stopped." "Not half of it, just the iron and steel section." "Yes, but that's the big end of the whole show. It was expected to carry the burden." "It's still there, isn't it?" said Brewster fretfully. The mayor glanced at him quickly. Something in the voice suggested that the bank was involved and that the thing was getting on Brewster's nerves. "I hope you're all right," he answered evenly, "but I'm carrying more stuff than I like to think of just now." He departed feeling quite obviously rather balked of his desire for inside information. Just outside he met Dibbott. "I saw Mr. Clark just now," said the latter. "He doesn't seem at all worried. Of course you've heard the news?" Filmer nodded. "Yes, and I've a feeling we're going to hear more before long. Haven't got any Consolidated stock have you?" "Stock! Never owned a share in my life, but I've a good mind to sell my place now while the price is up. Look at that, will you!" The street cars coming down from the works were bulging with the population of Ironville, who had inconsequently decided to take the holiday in St. Marys. Hundreds of them were dressed in Sunday best and bent on an outing; big Slovaks and Poles whose horny fists gripped the platform rail while they smoked cheap cigars with gaudy labels and chattered volubly to each other. It was good to be out of Ironville.