"The case is heavy, Tyler. I can't stir it. Just see what is in it." Mr. Tyler, alert to obey, dragged forth the case with the assistance of the insurance agent and when it was tipped up and Peter and Nat tumbled out on the floor three more astonished men never were seen. [Illustration: THE THREE MEN STEPPED FORWARD] "How did you two boys get here?" questioned Mr. Tyler severely. "What are you doing?" Nat, thoroughly terrified, looked helplessly at Peter. He couldn't have answered had he tried. Peter himself was a good deal taken aback. He glanced at his father for some hint as to how to proceed, but Mr. Coddington's face was a study in conflicting emotions and furnished no clue. Therefore, after waiting a moment and receiving no aid in his dilemma, Peter replied simply: "We are eating our luncheon." "Eating your lunch! And who told you you might come here for such a purpose?" "Nobody. It just was a big, empty place with lots of sunshine and it seemed nicer than eating down-stairs," gasped Peter. "Are you sure they were eating their lunch and not starting a fire?" suggested the insurance inspector in an undertone. "Of course we weren't setting a fire!" Peter cried indignantly, hearing the whispered words of the inspector. "We just came up here to get where it was clean and quiet. When it is too cold to go out there isn't any place to eat except right in the factory." "Well, that is no excuse for your coming here. It is against the rule for any of the employees to come above the fourth floor without permission. I thought you both understood that. If you didn't it is your own fault. You may finish out your week here and on Saturday night you may consider yourselves discharged from the tannery." Mr. Tyler put his hand on Peter's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Strong," he added. "Just one moment, Tyler." It was Mr. Coddington who spoke. "Tell me more fully about this matter, Peter Strong. You say you have no suitable place to eat your lunch." "Yes, sir." "What do the other men do?" "They sit around under the machinery anywhere they can. Often the place is dirty and sometimes it is hot. If the windows are opened to air the rooms the men get cold," answered Peter. "Strong is a little fussy, I am afraid, Mr. Coddington," interrupted Mr. Tyler. "The conditions are the same as they always have been--the same as they are in most mills. The men can go home at noon if they like." "But they can't get home, and eat anything, and get back here, all within an hour," objected Peter. "Besides, they are often too tired. It is much easier to stay right in the tannery. Of course in warm weather we have the park and can go outside, so then we are all right; but during the winter----" "That will do, Strong," cut in Mr. Tyler. "Remember your time is up this week. What's your name?" The superintendent turned severely on Nat. "Jackson." "Oh, yes--Jackson. You are the boy who was hurt." Nat nodded.