heard Dad an' the men talkin' so much about. He's the guy what's
a-goin' to put the fear of God into the Mill bosses and rich folks.
He's a-goin' to take away old Adam Ward's money an' Mill, an'
autermobiles, an' house an'--everything, an' divide 'em all up 'mong us
poor workin' folks. Gee, but he's a big gun, I'm tellin' yer!"

The man came on to the foot of the stairs and stopped before the
children. For a long moment he looked them over with speculative
interest. "Well," he said, abruptly, "and who are you? That you belong
in this neighborhood it is easy to see."

"We're Bobby and Maggie Whaley," answered the boy.

The man's black eyebrows were lifted, and he nodded his head
reflectively. "Oh-ho, you are Sam Whaley's kids, heh?"

"Uh-huh," returned Bobby. "An' I know who yer are, too."

"So?" said the man.

"Uh-huh, yer Jake Vodell, the feller what's a-goin' to make all the big
bugs hunt their holes, and give us poor folks a chance. Gee, but I'd
like to be you!"

The man showed his strong white teeth in a pleased smile. "You are all
right, kid," he returned. "I think, maybe, you will play a big part in
the cause sometime--when you grow up."

Bobby swelled out his chest with pride at this good word from his hero.
"I'm big enough right now to put a stick o' danermite under old Adam