“Getting your goat so that you can’t sleep nights, is it?” said the first assistant, with his teeth-baring smile.
David ignored the reference to his responsibilities and asked a question.
“Any more strike talk among the men?”
“A little; yes.”
“What do you think about this roof by this time? I know what you thought a few days ago.”
Plegg shook his head.
“It’s not up to me to do the thinking. What do you think?”
“Frankly, Plegg, I don’t know what to say. Just before you came up I was thinking that if I were called in here as an outsider and asked to give an opinion I’d say it was a risk—a damned bad risk. But as a Grillage man, I’ve come around to your point of view on the necessities. We’ve got to trust to luck and bully it through.”
“Yes; if the devil doesn’t take too good care of his own.”
“What do you mean by that?”