"Neither do I, Mr. Chittenden." Bennington stood up.
"Then out he goes," said Morrissy, recovering his truculence.
"On what authority?" Bennington's voice was growing milder and milder. "On what authority?" he repeated.
"On mine!" cried Morrissy.
"You are mistaken. I am master here. Mr. Chittenden will remain on the pay-roll."
"Then in ten minutes the men will walk out on my orders. You're making a big mistake, Mr. Bennington."
"That is for me to judge."
"Ten minutes to make up your mind." Morrissy made a gesture toward his watch.
"Don't bother about the time, Mr. Morrissy. We'll spend the ten minutes in the molding-room."
Morrissy turned pale.