and exhibited the palm to the crowd.

"I don't find any labor medals here, men. Is there anybody in the crowd
who can show some?" He released the struggling, cursing captive.

"What's labor medals?" inquired a bystander.

The big man was still denouncing them from his car, but the group paid
little attention now.

"Callous spots in the place where a working-man ought to wear them. And
that place isn't on the tongue."

"Are you sneering at us because we can't get a job?"

"You're a loafer yourself, and anybody can see it," declared another.

The young man raised his arms, showing them his palms.

"I carry a few labor medals," he returned, curtly.

"Why ain't you on your job? The lord dukes won't give you one?"

"_When_ I work and _where_ I work is my own business, so long as I don't
beg food at back doors."

"Do _we_?"

They had crowded around him and menaced him with murmurings and
glowering gaze.