TOM GROGAN
she do to help her? This thought was uppermost in her mind.
“Don't ye worry,” she said tenderly. “Schwartz won't fire yer man.”
“No; but the sluggers will. There was five men 'p'inted to-day to do up the scabs an' the kickers who won't go out. They near killed him once in Newark for kickin'. It was that time, you know, when Katie was first took bad.”
“Do ye know their names?” said Tom, her eyes flashing.
“No, an' me man don't. He's new, an' they dar'sn't trust him. It was in the back room, he says, they picked 'em out.”
Tom stood for some moments in deep thought, gazing at the fire, her arms akimbo. Then, wheeling suddenly, she opened the door of the sitting-room, and said in a firm, resolute voice:—
“Gran'pop, come here; I want ye.”
The old man laid down his book, and stood in the kitchen doorway. He was in his shirt-sleeves, his spectacles on his forehead.
“Come inside the kitchen, an' shut that door behind ye. Here's me friend Jane Todd an' a friend of hers from the tene-
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