The next time he saw Mary Condon was during the Laundry Strike.  The Laundry Workers, but recently organized, were green at the business, and had petitioned Mary Condon to engineer the strike.  Freddie Drummond had had an inkling of what was coming, and had sent Bill Totts to join the union and investigate.  Bill’s job was in the wash-room, and the men had been called out first, that morning, in order to stiffen the courage of the girls; and Bill chanced to be near the door to the mangle-room when Mary Condon started to enter.  The superintendent, who was both large and stout, barred her way.  He wasn’t going to have his girls called out, and he’d teach her a lesson to mind her own business.  And as Mary tried to squeeze past him he thrust her back with a fat hand on her shoulder.  She glanced around and saw Bill.

“Here you, Mr. Totts,” she called.  “Lend a hand.  I want to get in.”

Bill experienced a startle of warm surprise.  She had remembered his name from his union card.  The next moment the superintendent had been plucked from the doorway raving about rights under the law, and the girls were deserting their machines.  During the rest of that short and successful strike, Bill constituted himself Mary Condon’s henchman and messenger, and when it was over returned to the University to be Freddie Drummond and to wonder what Bill Totts could see in such a woman.

Freddie Drummond was entirely safe, but Bill had fallen in love.  There was no getting away from the fact of it, and it was this fact that had given Freddie Drummond his warning.  Well, he had done his work, and his adventures could cease.  There was no need for him to cross the Slot again.  All but the last three chapters of his latest, Labour Tactics and Strategy, was finished, and he had sufficient material on hand adequately to supply those chapters.

Another conclusion he arrived at, was that in order to sheet-anchor himself as Freddie Drummond, closer ties and relations in his own social nook were necessary.  It was time that he was married, anyway, and he was fully aware that if Freddie Drummond didn’t get married, Bill Totts assuredly would, and the complications were too awful to contemplate.  And so, enters Catherine Van Vorst.  She was a college woman herself, and her father, the one wealthy member of the faculty, was the head of the Philosophy Department as well.  It would be a wise marriage from every standpoint, Freddie Drummond concluded when the engagement was consummated and announced.  In appearance cold and reserved, aristocratic and wholesomely conservative, Catherine Van Vorst, though warm in her way, possessed an inhibition equal to Drummond’s.

All seemed well with him, but Freddie Drummond could not quite shake off the call of the underworld, the lure of the free and open, of the unhampered, irresponsible life South of the Slot.  As the time of his marriage approached, he felt that he had indeed sowed wild oats, and he felt, moreover, what a good thing it would be if he could have but one wild fling more, play the good fellow and the wastrel one last time, ere he settled down to grey lecture-rooms and sober matrimony.  And, further to tempt him, the very last chapter of Labour Tactics and Strategy remained unwritten for lack of a trifle more of essential data which he had neglected to gather.