Now that our hour has struck, now that their lines of communication and defense are breached, and they--though they still don't fully understand it--are penned there in their heaven-offending, monstrous, horrible plant at the Falls, no true man can hesitate to smash them down with no more compunction than as though they were so many rattlesnakes or scorpions! "This isn't 1915, when political and civil rights still existed, and we weren't hunted outlaws.

This is 1925, and conditions are all different.
It's war, war, war to the death, now; and if war is Hell, then _they_ are going to get Hell this time, not we." Nobody spoke, for a little while; but Marion and Craig smoked contemplatively, and the others sat there in the dusk, sunk in thought.
All at once a door opened, and the vague form of a woman became visible.
"Comrades, you must go," said she.

"It's nearly half past five.

By the time you've got everything in readiness, you'll have no time to lose." "Right, Catherine," answered Gabriel.

"Come, comrades! Up and at it!" Ten minutes later they all issued forth into the soft gloom.