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Abner ceremoniously, who lifted it to his own mouth out of politeness.

"It's like this," began Mr. Fraley, smacking his lips and blowing out gently, "if us workin' fellers don't stand together, the rich fellers will git richer and the pore, porer."

"I'm rich already," said Abner flatly.

Mr. Fraley came to a dead halt. "Why, by God, that's a fact," he admitted, quite taken aback; a moment later he excused himself by saying, "Of course, I couldn't tell it was you in the dark."

Abner was gratified at this common-sense view that Mr. Fraley took. This man admitted frankly that the rich were for the rich and the poor for the poor; a most pleasing contrast from Shallburger's muddled argument which Abner had heard that morning.

"But, after all," said Fraley, "we might as well set a spell. I was detailed to talk to jest one guard, an' if I tried another'n, I might git shot next time."

"Sure," agreed Abner, rather pleased with Mr. Fraley now, "set as long as you please—kinder lonesome watchin' the stables by myse'f." He produced his flask again.

Mr. Fraley helped himself.

"After all, Abner, you boys ain't doin' us right—takin' our job when we ain't been paid for what we done."

"I don't know—Railroad Jones is goin' to pay ever'body as soon as he gets a line of credit."

"Yeh, I see him payin' us—Railroad never paid nothin' to nobody."

"You fellers can sue him," counselled Abner.

"Sue hell," snarled Mr. Fraley bitterly. "I see myse'f with a debt of eighteen dollars an forty cents suin' Railroad through the Circuit Court an' the Supreme Court."

This personal reasoning moved Abner in a way no labour-union argument ever could have done.

"By God, that ain't right," he admitted, impersonally.

"I say it ain't," nodded Fraley.

Abner felt that such wrongs deserved another drink, so he