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ABNER TEEFTALLOW stood on the hillside brooding over the sinfulness of sex, yet mixed with this in an alternating current was the thought of the value of the timber which he could see on the old Coltrane place. As he stood thinking now of sin, now of value, a perfect epitome of all hill thought, a voice with a foreign accent asked, "Were you looking for me, Mr. Teeftallow?"

Abner turned to see the man whom Adelaide had pointed out down the road. He recognized the intense studious face of Shallburger, the labour organizer whom he had known in Irontown.

"Well, no," ejaculated Abner, surprised at seeing Shallburger on a country road. He looked out of place.

"Then it's luck," said Shallburger in his quick accents. "I sent out a call for every loyal member of the union to come and resist the heartless encroachments of the plutocrats of labour." He dropped his voice. "They're goin' to bring a bunch of scabs here."

"They are?" echoed Abner, grasping the situation with the slowness of his kind.

"Yes, a bunch of new men to take the place of the old men. I understand the sheriff's coming with 'em.—Have you got a gun?"

"Nachelly."

Shallburger squeezed his arm. "To-day you can stand up for the cause of labour. You'll be a soldier in the army of human liberation! It's a glorious opportunity, Teeftallow, to carry on the battle for social progress, the uplifting of men!"