“I 'ain't had a bit of tobacco, and the less said about what I've had to eat the better,” Lee went on, in a loud, threatening voice, “but I ain't going to give up. No, miss; you've het up the fightin' blood in me, and it ain't so easy coolin' of it down.”
The door opened, and Granville Joy entered. He had knocked several times, but nobody had heard him. He looked inquiringly from one to another, then moved beside Andrew and the laster.
Dixon got up. “It looks to me as if it was too soon to be giving up now,” he said.
“It's easy for a man who's got nobody dependent upon him to talk,” cried Abby.
“I won't give up!” cried Dixon, looking straight at Ellen, and ignoring Abby.
“That's so,” said Lee. “We don't give up our rights for bosses, or bosses' misses.”
As he said that there was a concerted movement of Andrew, the laster, and Granville. Granville was much slighter than Lee, but suddenly his right arm shot out, and the other man went down like a log. Andrew followed him up with a kick.
“Get out of my house,” he shouted, “and never set foot in it again! Out with ye!”
Lee was easily cowed. He did not attempt to make any resistance, but gathered himself up, muttering, and moved before the three into the entry, where he had left his coat and hat. Dixon and Peel followed him. When the door was shut, Ellen turned to the others, with a quieting hand on Amabel's head, who was clinging to her, trembling.
“I think it will be best to talk to John Sargent,” said she. “I think a committee had better be appointed to wait upon Mr. Lloyd again, and ask him to open the factory. I'm not going to strike any longer.”