"I'm afraid the men in the automatic room are shaping for trouble," he said, as soon as their greetings were over.
"What's the matter with them?"
"It's about those four women—the four who came back."
Mary's eyes opened wide.
"There has been quite a lot of feeling," he continued, "and when the four women turned up this morning again and started work, the men went out and held a meeting in the locker room. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if the automatic hands went on strike."
"You mean to say they will go on strike before they will work with their own wives and sisters?"
"That's the funny part of it. As far as I can find out, the trouble wasn't started by our own men—but by strangers—men from New York and Boston—professional agitators, they look like to me—plenty of money and plenty of talk and clever workmen, too. I don't know just how far they've gone, but—"
The office boy appeared in the doorway and he, too, looked worried.
"There's a committee to see you, Miss Spencer," he said, "a bunch from the lathe shops."
"Have they seen Mr. Woodward?"