workman nowadays."

"Dad, don't believe that," said Jack. "Remember the same thing was said
before the war. We used to hear all about that decadent race stuff. The
war proved it to be all rot. The race is as fine as ever it was. Our
history never produced finer fighting men."

"You may be right," said his father. "If we could only get rid of these
cursed agitators."

"There again, Dad, if you will excuse me, I believe you are mistaken.
I have been working with these men for the last nine months, I have
attended very regularly the meetings of their unions and I have studied
the whole situation with great care. The union is a great institution. I
am for it heart and soul. It is soundly and solidly democratic, and the
agitators cut very little figure. I size up the whole lot about this
way: Fifty per cent of the men are steady-going fellows with ambition to
climb; twenty-five per cent are content to grub along for the day's pay
and with no great ambition worrying them. Of the remainder, ten per
cent are sincere and convinced reformers, more or less half-baked
intellectuals; ten per cent love the sound of their own voices, hate
work and want to live by their jaw, five per cent only are unscrupulous
and selfish agitators. But, Dad, believe me, fire-brands may light
fires, but solid fagots only can keep fires going. You cannot make
conflagrations out of torches alone."

"That is Matheson, I suppose," said his father, smiling at him.

"Well, I own up. I have got a lot of stuff from Matheson. All the same I
believe I have fairly sized up the labour situation."

"Boy, boy," said his father, "I am tired of it all. I believe with some
team play you and I could make it go. Alone, I am not so sure. Will you
take the job?"

There was silence between them for a few minutes. Then Jack answered
slowly: "I am not sure of myself at all, Dad, but I can see you must
have someone and I am willing to try the planing mill."

"Thank you, boy," said his father, stretching his hand quickly across
the table, "I will back you up and won't worry you. Within reasonable
limits I will give you a free hand."

"I know you will, Dad," said Jack, "and of course I have been in the
army long enough to know the difference between the O. C. and the
sergeant-major."

"Now, what about Tony?" inquired Maitland, reverting suddenly to what
both felt to be a painful and perplexing problem. "What are we to do
with him?"

"I will take him on," said Jack.