Mr. Pigott listened to this audacious statement with the hostile interest of the radical.
"A rotten system," he said. "Built on make-believe and lies."
"It fairly rots some of em," Ernie admitted. "Gives em more power nor what they can carry. But in the hands of the right men it don't work so bad. All depends on that."
Then Mr. Pigott asked him what he proposed to do.
"That's what I come to you about, sir."
"Of course your brother won't help!"
"No, sir; nor I wouldn't ask him," flashed Ernie.
"And I don't blame you," answered Mr. Pigott. "Alf's too busy taking the Mass and walking in processions to help his brother.... Now I'll tell you what to do. You go up and see Mr. Trupp. He can do anything he likes now he's disembowelled Royalty. And if he can't help you, I must; though I haven't got a vacant job in the yard just now. You're to sleep at my place, she says."
He followed Ernie to the door.
"What d'you make of your father?" he asked mysteriously.