“Home—­home!” repeated Mr. Watkins in a vacant manner.

Then with a fearful groan of agony he collapsed completely.  As he fell to the floor several of the undertaker’s clerks rushed forward and lifted him up.

“Another victim of conditions, of greed and avarice,” said a voice in Faith’s ear.

She turned quickly and recognized Miss Alma Dean, the woman inspector, whose card she had in her pocket.

Without waiting for Faith to answer, the lady went on speaking.  The men were laying Mr. Watkins on a sofa not twenty feet away from the body of his dead sweetheart.

“That poor fellow was a picture of health two years ago, before he entered the employ of Denton, Day & Co.  I know his mother well; she is a lovely woman, and he has a younger brother who is also in that store, and liable to follow in this poor chap’s footsteps.  I just came in to look at that poor girl.  I want to stamp her face indelibly upon my memory.  Thank fortune I am in a position to remedy some of the evils in this world.  As Government Inspector I can do considerable, but I must learn the length and breadth of the evil before I am fit to attack it.”

Faith listened breathlessly to every word.  The proprietor of the place was also listening, and as she finished, he nodded his head as though he quite agreed with her.

Mr. Watkins was rapidly reviving under the kind care bestowed upon him, but before he was fairly alive to his surroundings Miss Dean took Faith’s hand and led her out on to the sidewalk.

“They will take him home—­they are very kind people,” said the lady, sadly, “but now, dear, you and I are confronted with a problem.  How are we to prevent the repetition of this horror?”

As Miss Dean asked the question she did not really seem to expect an answer from Faith; it was more like a spoken expression of thoughts that were vexing her, made to one whom she knew was thoroughly sympathetic.

“This is the saddest demonstration of injustice that I have ever witnessed,” she went on, slowly, “yet I know it is mild in comparison with others.  It lacks the hideousness of exposure, so far as you see.  We only know that one more crime has been added to the list, yet the details of that crime have been carefully spared us.”

Faith knew that she referred to poor Mary’s death, but she could find no words with which to manifest the depth of her sorrow.

“The fear of the law is our only hope, I guess,” went on Miss Dean.  “They must be forced to comply with certain regulations.  Many of the stores are doing so, under no compulsion whatever, but these people seem deaf to everything but the jingle of their dollars.”

“But the law cannot change their hearts,” muttered Faith, at last, “so the cure that it effects must of necessity be superficial.  Oh, if only the fear of the Lord could be instilled into their system.  If they could only be made to feel that to Him they are accountable!” She spoke with enthusiasm, her eyes and cheeks brightening.