"You can send daughter in," answered Piper, indicating Addie, who--far from quailing--looked as serene and fresh as ever. "But I'm going to stand in front of this door. Now," he continued, with determination, fronting the rioters, "you leave the old man and his girl alone. If you don't you've got to fight me. One of your locomotives run me off the bridge t'other day and didn't kill me; and I guess you can't, either. I promise to corral the whole herd, if you try to come in here." Some of the men showed defiance, but those nearest were in no hurry to attack. It had suddenly become apparent to them that their antagonist's shoulders were particularly square and rugged. Scofield wondered whether his champion knew what he was about; the Piper certainly seemed to be in possession of all his faculties. The leaders began to confer. As luck would have it, the owner of the mill, who had been absent, and was not aware of the immediate danger, just then came up. He had not seen the crowd until within a few yards. At once a threatening cry arose: "Hounshell!" A strange sensation came over Piper; a loud, tumultuous noise following the word, filled his ears. Was it the rush of the river, or the thunder of a railroad train? He could not tell; but he shouted suddenly with fierce exultation: "Hounshell--that's the name! Hounshell's the man!" His memory had come back to him. The strikers, diverted by this new object, turned as if to assault the "boss;" but Piper was before them. He had darted forward and toward Hounshell, who, blanched with fear, and thinking Piper in league with the men, took flight, making for the bridge; the Californian after him. The little mob, itself bewildered, followed; but Piper had already clutched the fugitive when it caught up with them. "I've got him," he cried. "This man's a fraud. Do you want to know why? He took the money left to the other man--Scofield--hurrah! that's the other name. He stole the money, I tell you, and bought that mill, and it don't belong to him. The mill is Scofield's; d'you hear?" "Let go," gurgled Hounshell, trying to wrench himself free. But his captor shook him once, and he was quiet. The workmen crowded up to get a clearer understanding of this extraordinary statement; and as it broke fully upon them, "Throw him over the bridge," became their watchword. But by this time several other persons had advanced over the street bridge, among whom were Jonah and Scofield. "No violence, boys," said Jonah, lifting his voice, which had authority. "You're disgracing the cause." The men became silent, but Scofield was indignant with his ally of a moment before. "What are you doing to the boss?" he demanded, hotly. "You must be crazy." "Yes; he's crazy," said Hounshell, trying to assume the air of a composed and meritorious person placed at a disadvantage.