Leyburn nodded. His expression had become absurdly gentle.
"Maybe you're right, boy," he said. "You see, I'm an old campaigner. Guess I'm a bit hardened."
"That's natural, too." Frank was glad at the change in the man. He was glad, too, that he could agree with him.
"But there's no real hurt coming to Hendrie, if—he's reasonable," Leyburn went on thoughtfully. "You see, boy, maybe it looks that way, but this process of ours is only a sharpish way of teaching these monopolists that they've got to remember there are other folks in the world who need to live. That there is such a thing as brotherhood. I'd say Hendrie's a pretty good man, but he's headstrong—as you know. He won't be told a thing. All we need from him is his example, showing all those smaller folk he understands the needs of humanity, and is prepared to do his slice for it. What are we going to do? Why, when the time comes, the time most vital to him, we're going to show him he's dependent on us, and needs to treat us right. That's all. If he treats us right, then there's no harm done. This war—you hate the word—can be run on peaceful lines if both parties are not yearning to scrap. All we've got to do is to be ready to scrap. You won't be hurting Mrs. Hendrie. You won't be hurting a soul. But you'll just stand by to defend labor if they're out to hurt us. Get me?"
Frank nodded.
"Yes. It is right enough what you say," he replied. "I know all that. But it's this strike, and all the damage it does, makes me feel sick about it."
Leyburn laughed.
"If I know Hendrie, there'll be no strike. All we've got to do is to be ready for one. Say, lad, you're a bit sensitive. I tell you we're just going to bluff Hendrie into doing what he doesn't want to do. That's giving a living wage to folk who work for him. He'll give it when the bluff's put up."
"You think so?" Frank's eagerness sounded pleasantly in Leyburn's ears.
"Sure. They all do—in the end. Wheat men are easier than railroad companies. Their crops are perishable. There'll be no real strike. So Mrs. Hendrie's your—foster mother. Say, it beats hell."