"Yes, I was there; but I have come over specially to see you. I said to my mates, 'If there's anybody that can help us it's the Little Missis. And I mean to go and ask her, that I will.' So I've come."
"Are you in trouble? You know I will do whatever I can for you."
"I know you would, Mrs. Waring, I know you would. But, thank God, it's not anything that is specially my trouble; it has to do with all the lads. They are threatening to come out on strike. They're just mad against Mr. Black, and I thought you might go and see him for us, he would listen to you. It would be no good me going; the lads say now that I'm afraid to open my mouth against him."
"But I should not know what to say to him!" put in Phebe, feeling somewhat aghast at the new rôle which was being thrust upon her.
"I can soon tell you all about it, and then I know right well you'd know what to say—no one better. Mr. Black's got hisself into a kind of a corner. He's promised to have the work done by a certain date, and now he sees he can't do it. P'raps he got the job by making out he could do it quicker than others, I don't know about that: anyhow, he's in a fix, and the lads say he means us to get him out of it."
"But how could you?"
"Well, he wants us to work an hour a day extra."
"Yes, you could do that," put in Phebe again in a quick voice, feeling relieved at this easy way out of the difficulty.
"Yes; but what is he willing to pay us? We work ten hours a day now, and a long day it is at that heavy work, and to put another hour a day on to it without anything extra is what the lads won't stand."
"Do you mean to say he wants you to work that hour for nothing? There must be some mistake!" exclaimed Phebe.