"Getting on, sir, thank you," John answered cheerfully. "The doctor hopes it'll be up to work in a few weeks."
"Fortunate, if it is. Those strained muscles are troublesome things. I hope the strike will not last till your arm is really up to work."
John shook his head dubiously.
"I wish it may not, sir."
"Mr. Bertie has been to see you."
"Twice, sir. He says he don't mean me to be a loser by this."
"No; so I hear. Quite right too. No hope now, I'm afraid, of finding out the fellows who maltreated you."
"No," John said slowly. "I don't know as I can say I'm sorry. But if they was found, it wouldn't be right to let 'em off."
"Certainly not; for the sake of others more than yourself. But—" Mr. Hughes paused and sighed. "How I wish one could breathe a breath of Christ-like loving-kindness into all this—all these business relations between masters and men, between workmen and workmen. The wheels would move then without creaking, and adjustment would not be a matter of fighting."
"That's so, sir," John answered emphatically. "It's Christian consideration for others that's wanted, not just each side trying to grab the biggest profits."