“Where did you get this sky-high notion?”
“The shop is full of it. The men know it. I don’t know how they know it, or who told them, but every man is as sure of it as he is of his own name. Ain’t that so, Jim?”
“It’s a-comin’,” said Jim.
“Who says so?”
“Everybody. The men know the things that have happened, and they say something worse is on the way.... They say it’ll come when the plant’s done.”
“Didn’t set any date, did they?” Potter asked, with a grim smile.
“Pretty close” said Lakin, somberly. “And you can’t expect ’em to hang around, waiting for it. I’m not goin’ to.”
Potter sat back in his chair and considered. Something must be done, and must be done at once. “Lakin,” he said, “hold the men together this noon. I’ve got something to say to them.”
“All right, Mr. Waite, but I don’t b’lieve it’ll do any good.”
At noon Potter went down to the mill-yard, where a multitude of men were expectantly assembled. He stood upon a motor truck and looked about him, and there was a thrill in his heart at the spectacle, a thrill at the thought that he was the general in command of all these men. It gave him a sense of power, a sense of his capability to accomplish.