the electric light company, and to set him at work. The arc lamps had been
placed, for the most part, where they would best illuminate the annex and
the cupola of the elevator, and there was none too much light on the
tracks, where the men were stumbling along, hindered rather than helped by
the bright light before them. On the wharf it was less dark, for the
lights of the steamer were aided by two on the spouting house. Before
seven o'clock Bannon had succeeded in getting two more lights up on poles,
one on each side of the track.

It was just at seven that the timbers suddenly stopped coming in. Bannon
looked around impatiently. The six men that had brought in the last stick
were disappearing around the corner of the great, shadowy structure that
shut off Bannon's view of the wharf. He waited for a moment, but no more
gangs appeared, and then he ran around the elevator over the path the men
had already trampled. Within the circle of light between him and the C. &
S. C. tracks stood scattered groups of the laborers, and others wandered
about with their hooks over their shoulders. There was a larger, less
distinct crowd out on the tracks. Bannon ran through an opening in the
fence, and pushed into the largest group. Here Peterson and Vogel were
talking to a stupid-looking man with a sandy mustache.

"What does this mean, Pete?" he said shortly. "We can't be held up this
way. Get your men back on the work."

"No, he won't," said the third man. "You can't go on with this work."

Bannon sharply looked the man over. There was in his manner a dogged
authority.

"Who are you?" Bannon asked. "Who do you represent?"