“And how well is that, Fred?”
“Well,” said Fred, carelessly, “he is a sort of inspector.”
“And what are an inspector’s duties, Fred? What does he have to do?”
“Well, he has to be on the work at six o’clock—unfortunately he lives three miles away, but that’s his business—he has to be there at six and he has to look after the men all day till six in the evening; that is, if the men ain’t working overtime—if they are he is there till eight.”
“And has he a horse, Fred?”
“A horse!” Fred said, scornfully; “no, thank you, I don’t have my inspectors riding about on horseback.”
“Do you mean to say, Fred, that Frank Maynard has to walk to work three miles of a morning and back at night, and to be on his feet all day?”
“Of course,” Fred said; “what would you have?”
Alice bit her lips until the blood nearly came.
“And how much do you pay him per week for work like this?”