“Why not bring them up to the lodge room?” he said. “It’s plenty big enough, and each man can bring his cot with him. We’ll see that breakfast is ready for them in the morning and after that, I guess they can get board around town somewhere. I hope you’ll approve,” he added to Stanley. “We want to show we’re in earnest about this thing and that we bear no grudge against anyone.” “All right,” agreed Stanley; “I don’t see no objections; though of course, I see your little game,” he added, in an undertone. “These fellers’ll be union men inside of a week.” Simpson made no reply, but smiled a diplomatic smile; and Stanley’s prediction came true; for all of the strangers who secured permanent positions, joined the brotherhood in a very short time. It may be added, in passing, however, that not above eight or ten remained at Wadsworth. Most of them had the wanderlust in their blood; they could be contented in one place only for a very short time, and then must be moving on; while the rest were victims of an even worse disease, which converted them from men into brutes, and rendered them unfit to hold any position. * * * * * Allan, hurrying across the yards in the direction of his office, was conscious of quick steps behind him, and turned to find that Jack Welsh had joined Reddy Magraw. “So here you are!” cried Jack. “Well, I certainly am glad to see you. And you’re not hurted?” “Hurt?” repeated Allan. “Why, no, of course not; why should I be?” “And you’re about ready to go home? The women are jest naterally worrited to death about you.” “Oh, I’m all right,” Allan assured him, though he was conscious that both head and shoulder were aching numbly. “Reddy’s been dogging me like a shadow. I’ll be ready to go back before long. You’ve heard the news?” “No. What?” “The strike’s off. I’m just going to wire the news to Mr. Schofield. Then I’ll be ready to go home. I must be up early in the morning.” “We’ll wait fer you,” said Jack, and he and Reddy sat down on the bottom step of the steep flight which led to the dispatchers’ office, while Allan hurried up the stairs. It took but a moment to get Mr. Schofield on the line. He had been sent the first news of the disaster, and was anxious to know how serious it was. Allan’s first words reassured him. “Nobody hurt,” Allan flashed, “and not over six cars destroyed, though some damage to others. Fire about out. Freight-house badly wrecked. Bassett set fire to cars and was burned to death. We also have fellow who set off bomb. Just saw Simpson, and arranged to have strike called off at noon to-day. No conditions. Admits that strike was mistake and says Bassett was fired from brotherhood last night. Willing to do most anything to square himself. And I guess that’s all till I see you.” There was an instant’s pause before Mr. Schofield answered. “West,” he began, “this is the greatest night’s work you ever did. Are you able to be up?”