The nearness of such a sum, the possibility of it, was almost stunning to Saxon, sitting at a supper which consisted of boiled potatoes, warmed-over beans, and a small dry onion which they were eating raw. There was neither bread, coffee, nor butter. The onion Billy had pulled from his pocket, having picked it up in the street. One hundred dollars a month! She moistened her lips and fought for control. “What made them offer it to you?” she questioned. “That's easy,” was his answer. “They got a dozen reasons. The guy the boss has had exercisin' Prince and King is a dub. King has gone lame in the shoulders. Then they're guessin' pretty strong that I'm the party that's put a lot of their scabs outa commission. Macklin's ben their foreman for years an' years--why I was in knee pants when he was foreman. Well, he's sick an' all in. They gotta have somebody to take his place. Then, too, I've been with 'em a long time. An' on top of that, I'm the man for the job. They know I know horses from the ground up. Hell, it's all I'm good for, except sluggin'.” “Think of it, Billy!” she breathed. “A hundred dollars a month! A hundred dollars a month!” “An' throw the fellows down,” he said. It was not a question. Nor was it a statement. It was anything Saxon chose to make of it. They looked at each other. She waited for him to speak; but he continued merely to look. It came to her that she was facing one of the decisive moments of her life, and she gripped herself to face it in all coolness. Nor would Billy proffer her the slightest help. Whatever his own judgment might be, he masked it with an expressionless face. His eyes betrayed nothing. He looked and waited. “You... you can't do that, Billy,” she said finally. “You can't throw the fellows down.” His hand shot out to hers, and his face was a sudden, radiant dawn. “Put her there!” he cried, their hands meeting and clasping. “You're the truest true blue wife a man ever had. If all the other fellows' wives was like you, we could win any strike we tackled.” “What would you have done if you weren't married, Billy?” “Seen 'em in hell first.” “Than it doesn't make any difference being married. I've got to stand by you in everything you stand for. I'd be a nice wife if I didn't.” She remembered her caller of the afternoon, and knew the moment was too propitious to let pass. “There was a man here this afternoon, Billy. He wanted a room. I told him I'd speak to you. He said he would pay six dollars a month for the back bedroom. That would pay half a month's installment on the furniture and buy a sack of flour, and we're all out of flour.” Billy's old hostility to the idea was instantly uppermost, and Saxon watched him anxiously. “Some scab in the shops, I suppose?”