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And on this smoldering fire Rudolph piled fuel Not that he said a
great deal. He worked around the cottage, washed dishes, threw
pails of water on the dirty porches, swept the floor, carried in
coal and wood. And gradually he began to play on the older man's
vanity. He had had great influence with the millworkers. No one
man had ever had so much.
Old Herman sat up, and listened sourly. But after a time he got up
and pouring some water out of the kettle, proceeded to shave himself.
And Rudolph talked on. If now he were to go back, and it were to
the advantage of the Fatherland and of the workers of the world to
hamper the industry, who so able to do it as Herman.
"Hamper? How?" Herman asked, suspiciously, holding his razor aloft.
He had a great fear of the law.
Rudolph re-assured him, cunning eyes averted.
"Well, a strike," he suggested. "The men'll listen to you. God
knows they've got a right to strike."
"I shall not go back," said Herman stolidly, and finished his
shaving.


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