"You attend to your men, Waller, and Mr. Wayne and I will do our part. Understand, I put the mill in your hands now; Mr. Wayne will attend strictly to the office. If you bring the men up to the old mark, ten dollars more for you in the month. If you don't——" And the manager waved his hand. Waller, between fear and hope, withdrew to the safe side of the door, and mopped his brow.
Mather also wiped his forehead; he was glad, after all, that Jim had not been there; he would try running the mill on this system, and Beth for a while, perhaps for good, could be spared unhappiness.
But when, after writing Jim a letter detailing the proposed change, he rose from his chair, he found a workman standing by his side. The man, with some appearance of unhappiness, touched his forelock. "Beg pardon, sir, but the missis is sick."
"Your wife? I'm sorry. I suppose you've come for an advance of money."
"No, sir!" and the man showed pride. "I can get along, Mr. Mather, on my regular pay."
"Then what can I do for you?"
"It's this new regulation, sir—fortnightly pay."
"Fortnightly pay!" echoed Mather.
"Yes, sir. It'll be all right usually, Mr. Mather, and none of the men cares much."
There was a tightness in the manager's brain; he put up his hand and stroked his lip. "Let me see, when did the new system begin?"