CHAPTER XXXV.
TERROR AND RETREAT.
When, despite Flint's imperative orders, Slade failed to reopen the lines of communication for him, before nightfall, and when President Supple wired in code for a little more time in obeying Air Trust orders, the Billionaire recognized that something of terrible menace now had suddenly broken in upon his dream of universal power.
He summoned Waldron and Herzog for another conference and together they feverishly planned to put the works under defense, until such time as troops could be got through to them.
The plant regiment was mustered and the Cosmos mercenaries and scabs were made ready.

The machine-guns were unlimbered for action and large quantities of ammunition were delivered to them and to the aerial-bomb guns, as nightfall lowered.

Herzog set eight hundred men to work covering all the tanks possible, with wire netting of heavy steel.

The search-lights were all ordered into use; steam and electrical connections were made, the air-fleet was manned, and everything was done that unlimited wealth and bitter hate of the Workers could suggest.
With curses on the fog, which hid the upper air from view, the old man now stood at one of the west windows of his inner office--the office on the top floor of the main Administration Building, overlooking nearly the whole Plant.
"Damn the weather!" he snarled, his gold teeth glinting.

"In addition to all this mist from the Falls, there's a regular cloud-bank settling down, tonight! Under cover of it, what may not happen?
Nothing could have been worse, Waldron.