The noon whistles blew in the little inland town of Ridgefield and the sound, flung from many a hoarse factory siren, reached the ears of the few men who worked at piling lumber in Thorn’s Lumber and Millwork Company yard. The work of the men was instantly suspended and most of them walked off to look into well-filled lunch pails. A few, fortunate enough to live close by, started off for their homes. At the first sound of the whistles two clean-cut young fellows at the far end of the yard had just lifted a long plank, preparatory to tossing it on a towering pile beside them. They looked smilingly at each other as the whistles, joined by others, increased in volume of sound.…
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