“Yes, they will, sir,” she contradicted. “Besides, little pitchers has big ears; though if I iver caught one o’ them kids repatin’ anything ye didn’t want repated, I’d kill him, I would, an’ think it good riddance. But it’s best t’ be on the safe side, an’ they’ll be very well off in the kitchen.” The two youngest were protesting somewhat lustily that they did not think they would be at all well off in the kitchen, and immensely preferred to remain where they could continue to gaze at the illustrious visitor; but their mother was inexorable, and banished the whole herd together. “An’ now,” said Reddy, when that had been safely accomplished and the door was shut, “what is it?” “You know the strike begins to-morrow?” “Yes.” “And you know what it’s about?” “Yes. But I can’t hardly believe it. Neither kin anybody else who knows that drunken Rafe Bassett. It’s about him, ain’t it?” “Yes—we’ve fired him.” “An’ small blame to ye.” “And we won’t take him back.” “An’ right ye are. I hope ye’ll fight it out.” “We intend to. Mr. Schofield has placed me in charge of the situation here.” “An’ they couldn’t ’a’ got anybody better,” put in Reddy, with conviction. “I’m going to do the best I can, anyway—and I want you to help.” “I’m ready.” “You know we brought in a lot of men to-night to take the place of the strikers.” Reddy nodded. “We’ve got the freight-house fitted up for them, and Stanley has a detail of men guarding it. You know as well as I do that the only way to hold those men is to keep the strikers away from them. Stanley can keep guard all right on the outside, but we’ve got to have somebody to keep guard on the inside. I want you to go to work there as a kind of head bottle-washer, and keep your eyes open for trouble. At the first sign of it, let me know.” Reddy nodded again. “All right,” he said. “I ain’t much at bottle-washin’, but I knows how t’ kape my eyes open an’ my ears too. When do I begin?” “The sooner the better.” “I’ll go over right away, then,” and Reddy took down his hat and put on his coat. “Good-bye, old woman,” he added to his wife, who had been sitting listening silently to all this. “Look fer me back whin ye see me comin’.” He patted her on the back and started for the door. Mrs. Magraw paused to help Allan into his overcoat. “You won’t be lettin’ nothin’ happen t’ him, Allan?” she asked, anxiously, forgetting his new title in the emotion of the moment. “That I won’t,” he assured her. “I’ve got a sort o’ feelin’ that there’s goin’ t’ be trouble, an’ that Reddy’ll be in it,” she added. “It come t’ me strong when I set there listenin’.” “Perhaps there will be trouble, Mrs. Magraw,” said Allan. “Indeed, I’ll be surprised if there isn’t. But we’ll come through all right.” “Oh, I hope so, sir!” she cried, and lighted him to the door.