The two girls walked on, while the men lingered behind to talk.
“Do you suppose it is true, Abby?” asked Ellen.
“I don't know. I should, if it wasn't for that Lee fellow. I can't bear him. And that Nahum Beals, I believe he's half mad.”
“I feel the same way about him,” said Ellen; “but think what it would mean, fifteen per cent. less on their wages.”
“It doesn't mean so much for those young fellows, except Willy Jones; he's got enough on his shoulders.”
“No, but ever so many of the lasters have large families.”
“I hope they don't drag Willy Jones into it,” said Abby. She looked back as she spoke. Willy, in the little knot of men, was looking after her, and their eyes met. Abby colored.
“It's a shame to dock his wages,” she said.
“Whose—Willy Jones's?”
“Yes. I hope he won't get into any trouble. I can't bear that Lee.”