Smith departed, to return a few minutes later, an apprehensive eye cast back at the trailing Hegner.
"Now, Smith," said Jonathan, "what is your complaint?"
"The boss he keeps damnin' me up an' down all the time," Smith explained. "An' this morning he slugs me—right here on the beak." He laid a gentle finger on the corpus delicti.
"Hegner," inquired Jonathan, "why do you keep damning him up and down all the time? And why did you slug him on the beak?"
"Because," Hegner grinned sheepishly, "his beak was the place most convenient."
"This isn't a joking matter," Jonathan reminded him sharply.
"So it ain't." Hegner turned a glance of contempt on Smith. "He's a bum an' a loafer, He won't learn an' he won't try to work. Why, Braun, who'd ought to be in bed instead of at a lathe, turns out half as much again as him. How can I jack the other men up if I let him lag behind? An' this morning I told him I'd had enough of his soldierin' an' what I thought he was good for. He hauled off with a steelson to crack me—but I beat him to it. That's all." Hegner blew tenderly on his knuckles.
"Smith," said the judge, "what have you to say to that?"
"'Tain't so. He's only huntin' an excuse to fire me an' give some one else my lathe."
"So I am," Hegner put in grimly. "Some one who'll work an' who ain't an ex—"