At the door of the flat Mr. Baxter thought of the morrow, of what the public would say, of what his wife would say. He came back, closed the door, and stood looking steadily down on Tom. "Well--what are you going to do about it?" "Give it to the papers, that's what!" "Suppose you do, and suppose a few persons believe it. Suppose, even, people say what you think they will. What then? You will have given your--ah--your information away, and how much better off are you for it?" "Blackmailer, did you call me!" Mr. Baxter did not heed the exclamation, but continued to look steadily downward, waiting. A little while before Tom had been thinking vaguely of the possible use he could make of his power over Mr. Baxter. With lowered gaze, he now thought clearly, rapidly. The moral element of the situation did not appeal to him as strongly at that moment as did the practical. If he exposed Mr. Baxter it would bring himself great credit and prominence, but what material benefit would that exposure bring the union? Very little. Would it be right then for him, the actual head of the union, to use an advantage for his self-glorification that could be turned to the profit of the whole union? After a minute Tom looked up. "No, I shall not give this to the newspapers. I'm going to use it otherwise--as a lever to get from you bosses what belongs to us. I hate to dirty my hands by using such means; but in fighting men of your sort we've got to take every advantage we get. If I had a thief by the throat I'd hardly let go so we could fight fair. I wouldn't be doing the square thing by the union if I refused to use an advantage of this sort." He paused an instant and looked squarely into Mr. Baxter's eyes. "Yes, I have a price, and here it is. We're going to win this strike. You understand?" "I think I do." "Well?" "You are very modest in your demands,"--sarcastically. Tom did not heed the remark. Mr. Baxter half closed his eyes and thought a moment. "What guarantee have I of your silence?" "My word." "Nothing else?" "Nothing else." Mr. Baxter was again silent for a thoughtful moment. "Well?" Tom demanded. Mr. Baxter's face gave a faint suggestion that a struggle was going on within. Then his little smile came out, and he said: "Permit me to be the first to congratulate you, Mr. Keating, on having won the strike." Chapter XXXII THE THORN OF THE ROSE Shortly after lunch Mr. Driscoll called Ruth into his office. "Dr. Hall has just sent me word that he wants to meet the building committee on important business this afternoon, so if you'll get ready we'll start right off."