"I don't think I quite understand."
"By organization I mean organizing the working men."
"Oh, you mean holding up one's employers; in other words, throttling them and compelling them to grant one's demands. Is that what you mean?" demanded the lad with sharp incisiveness.
"Oh, no, no, no! You misunderstand me. We do nothing of the sort. We——"
Driscold was interrupted by a rap on the door.
"Come in," he called.
A man stepped into the room. Steve could scarce repress an exclamation as he saw and recognized the newcomer.
"I begin to understand what the game is now," thought the boy, as he leaned back in his chair with a smile of recognition on his face.