“Hold on, there, Ben Hardy,” hailed the foreman at the Saxton Automobile Works. “Just the fellow I wanted to see.”
“What about, Mr. Dunn?”
“About your father’s affairs. Here, give me all the details of this tangle with Saxton.”
Ben realized that the bluff, outspoken foreman was a genuine friend of his father. He began a recital of most of the facts concerning his father’s present trouble.
A sort of a subdued growl issued from the lips of the foreman when he had concluded. His face was grim and angry.
“You come with me, Hardy,” he said promptly.
“Where, Mr. Dunn?”
“To the Saxton works.”
“I had rather not go there,” demurred Ben, holding back a trifle.
“Got to,” declared Dunn definitely, “if I have to lug you there bodily. You ain’t the one who will get hurt. It’s Saxton.”