“They’ll quit,” says Tallow.
“Maybe,” says Mark, “but we got to do somethin’. Let’s give it a try.”
We waited till noon and the men was all sitting around eating their lunches. Mark and us went up to them, and Mark says:
“Beginnin’ to-morrow, we’re a-goin’ to put this mill on a piece-work basis.”
“Eh?” says old Charlie Cobb.
“Piece-work. I got the rates f-f-figgered out. I know how much a turner ought to do in a day, and I based my rates on that. Any man that works l-like he ought to will make what he’s m-makin’ to-day, and more, and a f-f-feller that really wants to dig in can make a heap more. I don’t care if every one of you makes ten dollars a day.”
“We won’t work no piece-work,” says Charlie.
“Why?”
“It’s jest gougin’ us. We’ll have to dum’ near kill ourselves, and then we won’t make wages.”
“Look here,” says Mark, “you’re turnin’ spindles, Charlie. How many d’you f-f-figger you kin turn in a day without b-bustin’? You’re a first-class turner.”