“I am not good at returning thanks—by words at least; but, as you know, I shall try to make the stock you have given me a good investment for the new company. It might seem, under the circumstances, that I ought to be well content; yet human nature is hard to satisfy, and I am about to ask for further powers. I want an understanding that I am to have a free hand in case we should have another strike. I also want the power of increasing the wages of the men—not to exceed, say ten per cent—at any time, without the necessity of consulting the board.”
“Why?” asked Monkton. “The board can be convened at any moment.”
“As a matter of fact it cannot. By your articles of association there must be seven days’ clear notice, and the object of the meeting must be stated when the call is made. Now, it may become necessary to act at once, and I want the power to do so.”
“Surely there is no danger of another strike,” said Mr. Hope, anxiously. “The men had such a severe lesson——”
“A lesson lasts the workingman just so long as his belly is empty, and rarely influences him after his first full meal. The Union is already working up to a demand for increased wages. Times are good, and they know it. We must face an increase of wages, and I want that increase to come voluntarily from the company, and not under compulsion. You may depend upon me to do nothing rash, but I want the power to announce such increase at any moment.”
The power to act promptly was given him, and he was assured that, in the event of another strike, the whole strength of the company would be behind him; but he was besought by Mr. Hope to avoid trouble if it were possible to do so.
After the meeting Sartwell went down to Eastbourne, and, with his daughter, took a long walk on the breezy downs.
“Well, girlie,” he said, after telling her of the firm’s generosity, “you are an heiress now, on a small scale. I have made over that thousand pounds to you, and as it is really worth ten thousand, I think it is a good deal of money for a little girl like you to accumulate before she comes of age.”
“But I’m not going to accept it, father!” cried Edna. “I’ll make it all over to you again.”
“Then we shall play battledore and shuttlecock with the stock. I generally have my own way, Edna, so you may as well give in gracefully to the inevitable. Besides, this comes as a sort of windfall; I didn’t reckon on it, so you don’t leave me a penny poorer than I was a month ago. I’ve laid by a bit of money in my time, and have at last got rid of a fear that has haunted me all my life—the fear of a poverty-stricken old age. That’s why I draw such deep, satisfying breaths of this splendid air from the sea. Grey hair came, Edna, before the goal was in sight, but it’s in sight now, my girl.”