nkled with a better humour than they had hitherto
displayed.

"Why--me?"

"She comes from the Skandinavia. Guess Skandinavia would fancy me
meeting their representative at the quay--quite a lot."

The argument met with Bat's entire approval. He pulled out a silver
timepiece and consulted it.

"That's all right," he said, "I'll quit you in ha'f an hour. Say--I'm
kind of guessin' there's other representatives of the Skandinavia
around. I didn't guess ther' was much to Sachigo that I wasn't wise to.
But that boy, Skert Lawton, showed me a play I hadn't a notion about.
It's that darn play shanty I set up for the boys. I feel that mad about
it I got a notion closing it right down. It worried me startin' it. It
worries me more now. You see, I guess it's come of me lappin' up the
ha'f-baked notions you find wrote in the news-sheets. Folks seem to be
guessin' the worker needs somethin' more than his wage. They guess he's
gotten some sort of queer soul needin' things he can't pay for. I allow
I hadn't seen it that way myself. It mostly seemed to me a hell of a
good wage and a full belly was mostly the need of a lumber-jack, and a
dead sure thing all he deserved. But I fell for the news-sheet dope, an'
set up that cursed recreation shanty. Now we're goin' to git trouble."

"How?"

Bull's ejaculation was sharp.

"They hold meetings there. They dope out Capital and Labour stuff there,
instead of pushing games at each other. Guess they got the bug of
politics an' are scratching themselves bad. It ain't the old Labrador
guys, Skert says. It's mostly new hands passin' their stuff on. Skert
reckons we got a whole heap of the Skandinavia 'throw-outs,' around here
now. That don't say Skandinavia's workin' monkey tricks. Though they
might be. You see, this sort of dope's been talked most everywhere,
except on Labrador, years now. I guess we need to go through the bunch
with a louse comb. But maybe the mischief's done. I'm dead crazy to
shut that darn place down."

"Don't!" Bull was emphatic. "Shut it down and you'll make it a thousand
times worse. No, sir. Let 'em shout. Let 'em blow off any old steam they
need. Just sit tight. If it's the usual hot air there's nothing much
coming of it up here on Labrador. There's this to remember. We're a
thousand miles of hell's own winter, and a pretty tough sea, from the
politicians who spend their lives befooling a crowd of unthinking
muttons. Pay 'em well, and feed 'em well, and they've t