Pete stopped, and Jake walked leeringly up to him. "This here----" the best Jake could do in the way of profanity, "Keating is goin' to get what's comin' to him!" Jake ended with a few more selections from his repertoire of swear-words. Pete retorted in kind, imperatively informing Jake that he knew where he could go, and walked away. Pete recognized the full meaning of Jake's words; and a half hour later he was knocking on Tom's door. He found a tall, raw-boned man sitting in one of Tom's chairs. Maggie had gone to bed. "Shake hands with Mr. Petersen, Pete," said Tom sleepily. "He's just come into the union." "Glad to know you," said Pete, and offered a hand to the Swede, who took it without a word. He turned immediately about on Tom. "I guess you're in for your thumps, Tom." And he told about his meeting with the five members of the entertainment committee. "I expected 'em before the election. Well, I'll be ready for 'em," Tom said grimly. A light had begun to glow in Petersen's heavy eyes as Pete talked. He now spoke for the first time since Pete had come in. "Vot day do?" he asked. Pete explained in pantomine, thrusting rapid fists close to various parts of Petersen's face. "About five men on you at once." Petersen grunted. When Pete left, the Swede remained in his chair with anxiety showing through his natural stolidity. Tom gave a helpless glance at him, and followed Pete out into the hall. "For God's sake, Pete, help me out!" Tom said in a whisper. "He's the fellow I helped get into the union. I told you about him, you know. He came around to-night to tell me he's got a job. When I came in at half past ten he'd been here half an hour already. It's eleven-thirty now. And he ain't said ten words. I want to go to bed, but confound him, he don't know how to leave!" Pete opened the door. "Say, Petersen, ain't you goin' my way? Come on, we'll go together." Petersen rose with obvious relief. He shook hands with Tom in awkward silence, and together he and Pete went down the stairs. Monday morning Tom bought the first revolver he had ever possessed. If he had had any doubt as to the correctness of Pete's news, that doubt would not have been long with him. During the morning, as he went about looking for a job, he twice caught a glimpse of three members of the entertainment committee watching him from the distance; and he knew they were waiting a safe chance to close in upon him. The revolver in his inner vest pocket pressed a welcome assurance against his ribs. That night when he came down from dinner to carry his new plan from ear to ear, he found Petersen, hands in his overcoat pockets, standing patiently without the doorway of the tenement. "Hello, Petersen," he said in surprise. "Hello," said Petersen. Tom wanted no repetition of his experience of Saturday night. "Got a lot of work to do to-night," he said hurriedly. "So-long."