"Show the enclosed to Compton," it read. "Tell him you found it on your
desk, and destroy this letter." The enclosure was a crudely printed note
on a piece of soiled wrapping-paper:



TREAT YOUR MEN RIGHT OR
SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES
I. W. W.



Bince laid Murray's letter face down upon the balance of the open mail,
and sat for a long time looking at the ominous words of the enclosure.
At first he was inclined to be frightened, but finally a crooked smile
twisted his lips. "Murray's not such a fool, after all," he
soliloquized.

"He's framing an alibi before he starts."

With the note in his hand, Bince entered Compton's office, where he
found the latter dictating to Edith Hudson. "Look at this thing!"
exclaimed Bince, laying the note before Compton. "What do you suppose it
means?"

Compton read it, and his brows knitted. "Have the men been complaining
at all?" he asked.

"Recently I have heard a little grumbling," replied Bince. "They