“I could not lead the delegation, being one of the youngest in the employ of the firm. The secretary of the Union is the leader the men have chosen.”
“Ah! The secretary of the Union. That is quite a different matter. He is not in my employ. I cannot allow outsiders to interfere in any business with which I am connected. I am always willing to receive my own men, either singly or in deputation, and that is no small matter where so many men are at work; but if I am to open my office doors to the outside world—well, life is too short. For instance, I discuss these things with you, but I should decline to discuss them with any man who dropped in out of the street.”
“Yes, I see the difficulty, but don’t you think you might make a concession in this instance, to avoid trouble?”
“It wouldn’t be avoiding trouble, it would merely be postponing it. It would form a precedent, and I would have this man or that interfering time and again. I would have to make a stand some time, perhaps when I was not so well prepared. If there is to be a fight, I want it now. We need some new machinery in, and we could do with a week’s shut-down.”
Marsten shook his head.
“The shut-down would be for longer than a week,” he said.
“I know that. The strike will last exactly three weeks. At the end of that time there will be no Union.”
“Perhaps there will also be no factory.”
“You mean there will be violence? Very well. In that case the strike will last but a fortnight. You see, my boy, we are in London, and there are not only the police within a moment’s call, but, back of them, the soldiers, and back of them again the whole British Empire. Oh no, Marsten, it won’t do, you know, it won’t do.
“The men are very determined, Mr. Sartwell.”