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"
The
guys
are
awful
quiet
now
.
"
"
Sure
.
Why
not
?
They
’
ve
got
their
mouths
full
.
Tomorrow
we
’
ve
got
to
start
raising
hell
.
I
guess
we
can
’
t
strike
long
,
so
we
’
ve
got
to
strike
hard
.
"
The
sound
of
a
motor
came
up
the
road
and
stopped
.
Outside
the
tent
there
was
a
sudden
swell
of
voices
,
and
then
quiet
again
.
Sam
stuck
his
head
into
the
tent
.
"
London
here
?
"
he
demanded
.
"
No
.
What
’
s
the
matter
?
"
"
There
’
s
a
dressed
-
up
son
-
of
-
a
-
bitch
in
a
shiny
car
wants
to
see
the
boss
.
"
"
What
about
?
"
"
I
don
’
t
know
.
Says
he
wants
to
see
the
chief
of
the
strikers
.
"
Mac
said
,
"
London
’
s
over
by
the
pit
.
Tell
him
to
come
over
.
The
guy
probably
wants
to
talk
things
over
.
"
"
O
.
K
.
I
’
ll
tell
him
.
"
In
a
moment
London
came
into
the
tent
,
and
the
stranger
followed
him
,
a
chunky
,
comfortable
-
looking
man
dressed
in
a
grey
business
suit
.
His
cheeks
were
pink
and
shaven
,
his
hair
nearly
white
.
Wrinkles
of
good
nature
radiated
from
the
corners
of
his
eyes
.
On
his
mouth
an
open
,
friendly
smile
appeared
every
time
he
spoke
.
To
London
he
said
,
"
Are
you
the
chairman
of
the
camp
?
"
