“Spill,” invited Mr. Hook.
“Get out your pencil and make notes—and I’ll ask you to do the same, Mr. Vose, so that there’ll be no comeback!”
They obeyed promptly.
“I am to do all my business with you—you are to do all the business with the choppers. You are the responsible party in all the details. You are to keep the books, measuring each man’s daily cut and giving him due credit. He is to be paid two dollars and fifty cents a cord—a weekly bonus of twenty-five dollars to the man who comes across with the most cords! No payment to be made for two weeks and then one week’s pay will be held back so that the men will not quit on me.”
“Don’t know about their agreeing!”
“Then the syndicate doesn’t want them. There’s no chance for argument. We’ll see how many volunteer when you put the matter up to ’em. I’m going to leave the speechmaking to you!”
“I’m fairly handy with my tongue,” he said, with a grin. “So I know. And I must be sure that you will not quit. That would disorganize the whole thing. All money to the men must go through your hands. Therefore, Mr. Hook, you must deposit with me, so as to cinch your responsibility, the sum of five hundred dollars in cash before axes start this morning.”
That idea did not please Mr. Henshaw Hook—not for a minute! He looked pretty blank.
“I haven’t any option in the matter,” I stated, coldly. “The syndicate makes its rules—but you can see that’s a common-sense one. I couldn’t be jumping around the country, leaving behind a lot of operations running by guess and by gosh, nobody financially responsible for the details.”
“Corporations have to have their rules, Hen,” said helpful Landlord Vose. “We all know how young Sidney, here, has come along in the world!”