"Oh, yes,—don't make a mistake,—he will pay us the usual money, of course, but the lads say that is not fair, if we work extra when we're tired he ought to pay us extra, specially when it's to get him out of a mess, and—my! he'll make a lot of money out of it too! And what I don't like," continued Jim, sinking his voice, "the fellows sneer at him so; they say he's been harder than ever since he's been a bit religious. 'That's what your religion does for a man!—makes him a bigger sneak than ever.' That's how they talk."
Phebe was silent. If the men did talk like that, then it was her duty to go and speak to Hugh Black.
"And there is something worse still for you to hear," continued Jim. "Mr. Black says if the lads throw the job up, he shall put on a gang of Irishmen, and the fellows say if he does, they will never let them do any work, and there's sure to be bloodshed!"
Another silence. Certainly if she could prevent bloodshed it was her duty to do so! And it seemed to her, too, that the men's claim was a just one; if they were willing to help Hugh Black out of his difficulty he ought to be willing to pay them something extra.
"Are you willing for me to tell Mr. Black all you have just said?"
"Will you go, then?" asked Jim eagerly.
"Why, yes; how could I refuse?" The words came but very slowly.
"There now!" exclaimed Jim excitedly, slapping his hands vigorously on his knees. "There, I said you would, and the lads bet all manner of things you wouldn't; they even said you wouldn't because you couldn't afford to offend Mr. Black. But I told them to wait and see."
Phebe only answered: "Can you tell me exactly what the men would like Mr. Black to do?"
"Yes, I could, but I wonder——"