The walking delegate dropped his mask of assumed politeness. His chin was thrust forward and his eyes gleamed with anger.
"I've been too easy with you—easy because you are a boy. Now I'm done with this foolishness. This is a man's game, and men are going to play it. You can get out of the union if you want to; we don't need you. But let me tell you one thing: you mind your own business after this, if you know what's good for you! I'm running this union just now, and I'm running it in the way that suits me best—that means the right way. If you don't like it, you get out and shut up—that's all."
Steve laughed in the delegate's face.
"Now you are beginning to show yourself in your true colors, Mister Man. I don't want your office. I did not care in the first place to have anything to do with an organization that you were interested in, but I thought possibly it might be run by honest men, so I joined the union."
"What's that? You throw that at me—you accuse me of being dishonest, you young whelp?" shouted Cavard in a rage.
"Take what I said for what it's worth, and I repeat your own words: 'If you don't like it, get out and shut up.' That's my answer."
Steve snapped his fingers in the face of the walking delegate and turned on his heel. Cavard was at his side in a few quick, long strides. He gripped the collar of the Iron Boy and was about to spin him about when Steve turned on him.
"Unless you are looking for trouble, I wouldn't put hands on the other man in this instance, if I were you. If you do that again, you will answer for it."
"Indeed! And may I ask you if you are in authority here?" sneered Cavard.
"Well, all I have to say is, if you want to know who's boss on this shift, just start something. You'll find out mighty quick, and the knowledge may not be particularly pleasant to you, either. That's all I have to say to you to-day. I may have something further to say later. Good afternoon."