“Why not, sir?”
“Haven't you heard how they ground me down?”
“Yes, sir. But why did you give in? I was true to you, but you failed me. I'd have shut up the works for three months, rather than be made a slave of, and go from my word.”
“Ay, ay; that's bachelor's talk. I've got a wife and children, and they make a man a mouse.”
“Well, sir, I forgive you: but as to my month's wages—now all I say is—PUT YOURSELF IN MY PLACE!”
“Well?”
“You are me. You are brought from London, under an agreement, a month's notice on either side. You work, and give satisfaction. You are threatened, but you don't run from your employer. You are blown up, and nearly killed. You lose a fortnight, but you don't charge for it; 'twasn't your employer's fault. You come back to him, and face the music again. You work with the sword hanging over you. But your employer gives in, and sacks you in a minute. Oughtn't you to have your month? Come now, man to man, oughtn't you?”
“I ought, and that's the truth. I didn't look at it that way. I saw my own side. There—no more about it—I'll draw the check—with a good heart.”
He drew his check-book to him, with a face as if vultures were tearing his vitals.
When Henry found him Amboynable, and saw his piteous look, he felt a little softened toward him, and he said, very impressively, “Wait one moment, sir, I've got an idea. I'm not the sort that likes to be beat. Are YOU?” The men looked steadily at each other.