"Yes, and it's full of cracks, too."
"But happily they're too small to see through, or I might have been caught listening," responded Alf.
"But what did you hear?"
"I'm coming to that! There was talk going on between a man, whose voice I did not know, and the foreman of the cooper's shop, Anton Griboff."
"Oh, I know! The chap with the suet-pudding face, the currants for eyes, the plastered hair, and the squint!"
"Yes, that's the chap! Well, the two must have been talking lots before I came to the workshop, for I found I'd jumped into the middle of a plot. And this was to get up a sort of strike; not a real strike though, but just an excuse to mutiny. They have arranged among themselves to demand things that they know very well no manager could give, such as nearly double wages and a six-hours day, and I don't remember what beside. But, of course, dad won't think of it."
"Perhaps they think they can frighten him," suggested Bert.
"Then they don't know dad!" And Alf gave a soft little chuckle of pride in the possession of such a dad.
"Well," he continued, "I stood there as still as a mouse till all was quiet and the men had gone home, and then I crept back to the house and went straight to dad and mother."
"And told them all about it?" asked Bert.