In vain Norman argued and pleaded. They stood their ground with sullen determination.
A final clincher which the young leader could not evade always ended the argument. The spokesman came back to it with dogged persistence:
"What did you mean, then, when you've been drumming into our ears that labour creates all value? We do all the work, don't we?"
The upshot of it was the eighteen assistant cooks marched back into the hall, stood before the judges, and all were granted equal wages with the chef.
Whereupon the chef sprang to his feet and faced the court with blazing eyes.
"You grant these chumps—these idiots—wages equal to mine? Not one of them has brains enough to cook an egg if I didn't tell him how. Their wages equal to mine. I resign!"
Tom spoke vigorously:
"Now will ye leave him to me?"
Norman and Barbara looked at each other in angry and helpless amazement.
The old miner leaped to his feet, made his way down from the platform, and with two swift strides reached the chef. He leaned close and whispered something in the rebel's ear. There was a moment's hesitation and the chef turned, signalled to his assistants, and amid cheers marched to the kitchen.