Bull stood up. He laughed without the least mirth.
"It's the Skandinavia," he said decidedly. "War's begun. I'm going right down to that meeting."
Bat leapt to his feet.
"No," he said. "This is for Skert an' me—"
"Is it?"
Bull brushed his protest aside almost fiercely. Then he turned as the door opened and a small man hurried in. The fellow snatched his cap from his head and his eyes settled on Skert Lawton, the man he knew best.
"It ees a document," he cried, in the broken English of a French Canadian. "They sign him, oh, yes. You no more are the boss. They say the mill it ees for the 'worker.' All dis big mill, all dis big money. Oh, yes. Dey sign him."
"Who's this?" Bull demanded.
"One of my machine-minders. He's a good boy," the engineer explained.
Bull nodded.