Picture-Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

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28 PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY strike. You have a choice ; you can either grant the demands of the men or we will " "Sims !" Every one in the room turned at the sound of that voice; Ned Lane stood framed in the doorway. "Sims," he repeated, "you have caused enough trouble among the boys, and it's time for you to get out. We don't want any outsiders like you interfering in our affairs. Leave this house. I'll settle with Mr. Dawson, and you can tell the boys that their demands will be granted." A shudder of apprehension shook the frame of Frank Dawson. Milly, his wife, appeared as though she were looking upon a ghost. The strike agitator, a sinister snarl curling his lips, quitted the room, followed by his satellites. "Quick, Dawson, you and Milly and the youngster must get out of here," said Lane. "There is going to be trouble here to-night, and you've got to leave. Before you go, however, you must give me your written promise that you will grant the demands of the men employed in your mills. You owe it to them." The tongues of Dawson and his wife were paralyzed. Frank endeavored to speak, but he could give vent only to inarticulate sounds. Finally he gained control of himself. "I'll do anything you say, Ned," he faltered. "Milly has told me all that you have done for her, and I'd like to try and repay you." "You can't lepay me," coldly replied Lane. "You can do what I ask, though, but you must do it quick." For a few minutes a pen scratched on paper. Dawson arose from his desk, handed the sheet of writing to Lane, who read it and tucked it in his inside pocket. It was a full acceptance of demands of the workers. "Now, then, give me your smok jacket," ordered Ned. "You and M and the youngster and the servants b it out the back way, before hell c loose." "Why are you doing this thing me, Lane?" queried Dawson. "Don't worry, I am not doing ai Wx I 1 thing for you. I am doing it all for tl woman whom I still love. Come, quic with your coat." In a trice the exchange of garmen had been made. Ned Lane seated hin self at Dawson's desk, and for a fe moments wrote rapidly. Suddenly a pistol shot cracked ! Immediately there followed a territ explosion ! Ned Lane toppled to the floor — dead The agreement in his pocket was fu filled by the man who had signed it. Meanwhile, in the luxurious home which Frank had given her, Milly was all unconscious of the shadow that menaced her new-found happiness.