s union, and no non-union man can work here.
I want justice, that's all."

"You'll get that all in good time, Mr.--ah--?"

"Morrissy."

"Mr. Morrissy. Mr. Chittenden, are you willing to join the union?"
Bennington smiled as he plied this question.

"Not I! My word, I'd as lief starve as become a union man, and under
such a master. I prize my manhood and independence above all things. I
have already refused to join. I never take back what I say."

"Neither do I, Mr. Chittenden." Bennington stood up.

"Then out he goes," said Morrissy, recovering his truculence.

"On what authority?" Bennington's voice was growing milder and milder.
"On what authority?" he repeated.

"On mine!" cried Morrissy.

"You are mistaken. I am master here. Mr. Chittenden will remain on the
pay-roll."

"Then in ten minutes the men will walk out on my orders. You're making
a big mistake, Mr. Bennington."

"That is for me to judge."

"Ten minutes to make up your mind." Morrissy made a gesture toward his
watch.

"Don't bother about the time, Mr. Morrissy. We'll spend the ten
minutes in the molding-room."

Morrissy turned pale.

"Oh, we shan't come to fisticuffs, Mr. Morrissy. I am a gentleman, and
you are not. Not a word!" as Morrissy clenched his fists. "Mr.
Shipley," said Bennington to one of the committee, "will you get all
the men together? I have a few words to say to them before this ten
minutes is up. I want to give the men a fair show."

"You can have twenty minutes, my English-bred gentleman," snarled
Morrissy. At that moment he would have given a thousand dollars for
the strength to whip the man whose ruin he believed he was planning.
"I'm kind of anxious myself to hear what you've got to say.

"In fact, I hope you will listen carefully to every word I say,"
replied Bennington, with a nod toward the door.

The committee went out solemnly. Morrissy was next to the last to go
down the stairs. Bennington followed closely behind him.

"Some day I'll get a good chance at you, Mr. Morrissy, and the devil
take care of you when I do. I shall see to it that the law will be
found to fit your case."

Morrissy shifted over to the balustrade, looking over his shoulder at
the speaker.

"Look here, you can't talk to me that way, Bennington."

"Can't I? I'll proceed. In the first place, you're a damn scoundrel.
You've brought about this trouble simply to show that you have power
to injure me. Well, you can't injure me, Mr. Morr