id you think was unsafe
about it?"

Grady was getting ready for his next outburst, but Bannon prevented him.
"There ain't many jobs, if you leave out tacking down carpets, where a man
don't risk his life more or less. MacBride don't compel men to risk their
lives; he pays 'em for doing it, and you can bet he's done it himself. We
don't like it, but it's necessary. Now, if you saw men out there taking
risks that you think are unnecessary, why, say so, and we'll talk it
over."

"There's another thing you've got to answer for, Mr. Bannon. These are
free men that are devoting their honest labor to you. You may think you're
a slave driver, but you aren't. You may flourish your revolver in the
faces of slaves, but free American citizens will resent it--"

"Mr. Grady, the man I drew a gun on was a carpenter. His own union is
looking after him. He had thrown a hammer down into a bin where some of
your laborers were at work, so I acted in their defence."

Grady stood up. "I come here to give you warning today, Mr. Bannon. There
is a watchful eye on you. The next time I come it will not be to warn, but
to act. That's all I've got to say to you now."

Bannon, too, was on his feet. "Mr. Grady, we try to be fair to our men.
It's your business to see that we are fair, so we ought to get on all
right together. After this, if the men lodge any complaint with you, come
to me; don't go out on the job and make speeches. If you're looking for
fair play, you'll get it. If you're looking for trouble, you'll get it.
Good-morning."

The new regime in operation at the elevator was more of a hardship to
Peterson than to any one else, because it compelled him to be much alone.
Not only was he quite cut off from the society of Max and Hilda, but it
happened that the two or three under-foremen whom he liked best were on
the day shift. The night's work with none of those pleasant little
momentary interruptions that used to occur in the daytime was mere
unrelieved drudgery, but the afternoons, when he had given up trying to
sleep any longer, were tedious enough to make him long for six o'clock.

Naturally, his disposition was easy and generous, but he had never been in
the habit of thinking much, and thinking, especially as it led to
brooding, was not good for him. From the first, of course, he had been
hurt that the office should have thought it necessary to send Bannon to
supersede him, but so long as he had plenty to do and was in Bannon's