“Would you be willing, then, in the interests of peace, to arrange a conference with Marsten, talk the matter over, and come to an understanding, if that be possible?”
“Yes. I will send for him at once; but I don’t think it will be of the slightest use, and it forms a bad precedent.”
It was unanimously agreed that such an action on Sartwell’s part would strengthen his hands, and that the fight, if it proved inevitable, could be gone into with greater spirit when all knew that everything possible had been done to avoid hostilities.
Sartwell invited Marsten to meet him at his office at seven o’clock in the evening. When the young man entered his first words were:
“You told me I was not to set foot in this office unless I was ordered to do so; I must apologize, therefore, for coming on a mere invitation.”
“Ah, you haven’t forgotten that yet!” said Sartwell, with a laugh. “But you do forget apparently that you were here on invitation before,—during the strike, you know.”
“Yes, so I was.”
“Now, Marsten, to begin with, have you any personal ill feeling against me for your summary dismissal?”
“Not the slightest. I should probably have acted as you did under the same circumstances.”
“It is generous of you to say that, but I doubt if you would. However, not attempting to excuse myself at all, I may say that the event did not quite turn out as I expected. I hoped that you would call on me, and that we would—well, arrange an armistice, as it were.”