“Quite so. Then it is with you alone I have to deal? Marsten is out of it?”
“That is the state of the case.”
“Well, I am sorry I cannot offer you the assistant managership; although, of course, I hope the strike will end as speedily as possible.”
“Marsten said you offered it to him; is that true?”
“I think Marsten generally speaks the truth. Let us stop beating about the bush, Gibbons. The men to-night have either resolved to come back, or they have not. If they are coming back, they will come whether I deal with you or not. If not, then I don’t see how you can say more than that you will do your best to bring them back. Now, all I shall promise is this: if you bring the men back to-morrow, I will see that your position in the works is improved.”
“That’s rather hard lines, Mr. Sartwell. Marsten brought on the strike, and you offer him the assistant managership. I end the strike, and you will make no definite terms.”
“I offered Marsten the position before the strike began. Once the fight was on, it had to be fought to a finish. The finish has come, and I think you had better accept the only terms I can offer. Don’t you see that, if I were not a man of my word, I could easily promise you anything, and then discharge you a month hence?”
“Well, I’ll trust to your generosity, Mr. Sartwell. Now, what will you promise to the men?”
“What do they ask?”
“They wish you to discharge all the blacklegs you have engaged.”