ity. He saw that the woman was excited and distressed, and he knew that there must be some disastrous development in the already unbearable situation.
"What is it now?" he asked her. "Has any new limit of suffering been reached?"
"Yes," she replied, "my limit has been reached. I can't bear it any longer. I came to ask you to make one more effort to put an end to this horrible strife."
"Yes," echoed Barry; "she's gone the limit. I know. It's up to you and me, Farrar, to buckle in and make a whirlwind effort to end this thing now. We're the only two men on earth that can do it."
"Barry," said the rector, "it's no use. You've done all that a human being could do. And I, Mrs. Bradley, I have exhausted every effort. The men are stubborn, the mill-owners are obdurate; the thing is absolutely dead-locked."
"The mill-owners are indeed obdurate," she replied, "but the men are no longer stubborn. They've been starved and frozen into submission. They'll go back on any terms."
"Without Bricky Hoover?"
"Yes, without Bricky Hoover."
"Then why under the canopy don't they go?" asked Barry. "We'll take 'em in a minute, if they've dropped Bricky."
"They don't go," she replied, "because the company won't let them."
"Won't let them!" exclaimed Barry and the rector in unison.
"Won't let them," she repeated. "Mr. Malleson says they've repented too late. He's hired strike-breakers, scabs, thugs, to take their places."
"Who told you this?" demanded the rector.
"Steve Lamar. He says there'll be riots and bloodshed. And, if there is, the guilt of it will be on my head. You must stop it, Mr. Farrar. You must! You must!"
