d just look over his measures. You
never heard of tapes that measured thirteen inches to the foot, did you?
Nor of rods that made a hole three feet, when it was four?"

"What are you feeding us?" the foreman asked, in surprise.

"Pap. You're an infant. So's the gang of you."

"What do you mean?"

"Just this." Morrison looked wearied. "Thirteen inches to the foot means
eight and one-third feet to the hundred. That is, it's likely the
contractors are doing one hundred and eight feet and four inches, and
getting pay for a hundred. No wonder they're kicking. That's $75 to the
good for the company."

"I never thought of that," replied the foreman.

"I don't know that it's to be wondered at," answered Morrison. "After a
man's pounded steel all day and got his head full of powder smoke, he's
too tired and sick to think of anything. How are you coming on with the
organisation?"

"Oh, all right. Most of the boys will come in all right. Some are
standing off, though. Say they'd as soon be pinched by the company as
bled by the union."

"Oh, well, don't trouble them too much. We'll attend to them later on.
It's going to be a bad climate for scabs when we get our working clothes
on."

"It means a strike to get them out."

To this sentiment Luna acquiesced with an emphatic nod.

"Strike!" ejaculated Morrison. "That's just what we will do, and pretty
soon, too!" He was still smarting with the memory of Bennie's words.

Pierre again took a hand.

"Who mek ze troub', heh? Meestaire Firmstone. I bin tol' you he's smooth
stuff, ver' smooth stuff. You mek ze strike. _P'quoi?_ Mek Meestaire
Firmstone quit, eh? _Bien!_ You mek ze strike, you mek Meestaire
Firmstone keep his job. _P'quoi?_ Ze company say Meestaire Firmstone one
good man; he mek ze boy kick. _Bien!_ Meester Firmstone, he stay."

"He'll stay, anyway," growled Morrison, "unless we can get him out."

Pierre shook his head softly.

"Ze strike mek him to stay."

"What do you propose, then?" asked Morrison, impatiently.

"Meestaire Jim at ze mine bin foreman. Meestaire Luna at ze mill bin
foreman. Slick men! Ver' slick men! An' two slick men bin ask hol'
Pierre, one hol' Frenchmans, how mek for Meestaire Firmstone ze troub'."
Pierre shook his head deprecatingly. "Mek one suppose. Mek suppose ze
mill all ze time broke down. Mek suppose ze mine raise hell. _Bien!_
Bimeby ze company say, 'Meestaire Firmstone bin no good.'"

"Frenchy's hitting pay dirt all right,