heir work already."

"They must have known that: or why draw out the grinders? How could they
know it?"

"Sir," said Bayne, "they say old Smitem is in this one. Wherever he is,
the master's business is known, or guessed, heaven knows how; and,
if there is a hole in his coat, that hole is hit. Just look at the
cleverness of it, sir. Here we are, wrong with the forgers and handlers.
Yet they come into the works and take their day's wages. But they draw
out the grinders, and mutilate the business. They hurt you as much as if
they struck, and lost their wages. But no, they want their wages to help
pay the grinders on strike. Your only chance was to discharge every man
in the works, the moment the grinders gave notice."

"Why didn't you tell me so, then?"

"Because I'm not old Smitem. He can see a thing beforehand. I can see it
afterward. I'm like the weatherwise man's pupil; as good as my master,
give me time. The master could tell you, at sunrise, whether the day
would be wet or dry, and the pupil he could tell you at sunset: and that
is just the odds between old Smitem and me."

"Well, if he is old Smitem, I'm old Fightem."

At night, he told Bayne he had private information, that the grinders
were grumbling at being made a cat's-paw of by the forgers and the
handlers. "Hold on," said he; "they will break up before morning."

At ten o'clock next day he came down to the works, and some peremptory
orders had poured in. "They must wait," said he, peevishly.

At twelve he said, "How queer the place seems, and not a grindstone
going. It seems as still as the grave. I'm a man; I'm not a mouse."

Mr. Cheetham repeated this last fact in zoology three times, to leave no
doubt of it in his own mind, I suppose.

At 1.00, he said he would shut up the works rather than be a slave.

At 1.15 he blustered.

At 1.20 he gave in: collapsed in a moment, like a punctured bladder.
"Bayne," said he, with a groan, "go to Jobson, and ask him to come and
talk this foolish business over."

"Excuse me, sir," said Bayne. "Don't be offended; but you are vexed and
worried, and whoever the Union sends to you will be as cool as marble. I
have just heard it is Redcar carries the conditions."

"What, the foreman of my own forgers! Is he to dictate to me?" cried
Cheetham, grinding his teeth with indignation.

"Well, sir, what does it matter?" said Bayne, soothingly. "He is no more
than a mouthpiece."

"Go for him," said Cheetham, sullenly