But Tim went in and failed to come out. This was not Tim's fault, however, for the manager released his hold on his stomach long enough to get a grip on Tim's collar. The striker's defiance seemed to displease him, and, because he could not shake Danny, he shook Tim, and he said things to Tim that he would have preferred to say to Danny. Then his excited harangue was interrupted by the sound of a gong, which convinced him that he might again venture to the door. Danny was in the grasp of the strong arm of the law. A half dozen policemen had valiantly rushed through the crowd and captured the entire besieging party, which was Danny. "What you doin'?" demanded Danny angrily. "What are _you_ doing?" retorted the police sergeant in charge. "This here's a strike," asserted Danny. "I got the plant picketed." "Run him in!" ordered the manager from the doorway. "What's the row?" asked the sergeant. "That's the row," said the manager, pointing to Danny. "That!" exclaimed the sergeant scornfully. "You said it was a riot. You don't call that kid a riot, do you?" "Well, it's assault and battery, anyhow," insisted the manager. "He hit me with a rock." "Where?" asked the sergeant. "Where he carries his brains," said Danny, which made the crowd yelp with joy again. "Lock him up!" cried the manager angrily. "I'll prefer the charge and appear against him." The sergeant looked at Danny and then at the manager. "Say!" he said at last, "you ain't got the nerve to charge this kid with assaulting you, have you?" "I'm going to do it," said the manager. "Oh, all right," returned the sergeant disgustedly. The crowd was disposed to protest, but the police were in sufficient force to make resistance unsafe, and Danny was lifted into the patrol-wagon. At the station the captain happened to be present when Danny was brought in, escorted by a wagon-load of policemen. "What's the charge?" asked the captain. "Assault and battery on a grown man!" was the scornful reply of the sergeant. "What did he do?" persisted the surprised captain. "Hurt his digestion with a rock," explained the sergeant. "I was on strike," said Danny. "I'm a good union man. You got no business to touch me." "I understand," said the sergeant, "that he was discharged, and he stationed himself outside with a pile of rocks." "You've no right to do that," the captain told Danny. "They all do it," asserted Danny. This was so near the truth that the captain thought it wise to dodge the subject. "Of course, if no one else will take a man's place," he explained, "the employer will have to take him back or--" "There wasn't nobody tryin' to take my place--not while I was there!" asserted Danny belligerently. "That's no lie, either," laughed the sergeant. "He had the office tied up tight." Danny swelled with pride at this testimonial to his prowess. Then it suddenly occurred to him that the sergeant did not act as he talked. "What'd you butt in for, then?" he demanded.