“No, Arthur; I would rather you keep out of it. Would you let them tell you what they want if you were me?”
“Yes, I certainly would.”
Mr. Knight threw up the window.
“Now, then, you fellows, what is the meaning of this?”
A man who was in the front touched his cap and cleared his throat, and began a short speech.
“Beg pardon sir, but we are come to lay our case before you, man to man. We have been given to understand that the factory in Chislehurst-street belongs to you, though it is carried on in the name of Woolton and Company. We are all employed at that factory; and we are not satisfied with the wages. We want a rise, sir, begging your pardon.”
“And so do we,” said another man, in tones that were far less respectful. “We find that a good many of them works at the back of Stepton belong to you; and it is impossible for a man to keep his family respectable on the wages you give. We’re going to strike and demand better pay, and we have come here to-day to give you notice to that effect.”
“Yes, we have,” began another, but Mr. Knight angrily stopped him.
“If you don’t clear out of this directly I will have you all arrested for trespass,” he said. “And you are very much mistaken if you think this is the way to get what you want. If you have a case, lay it before the man from whose hands you take your money, and approach me through him.”
A scornful laugh broke in here, and several voices said, “A lot of good that would do!”