"It will throw several hundred men out of work," Sullivan objected.
"That can't be helped," retorted Cronin. "They will get out at least with their lives and will be almighty thankful for that. They can get other jobs, I guess. But even if they are out of work, I figure some of them won't be so sorry to see the Fernalds get what's coming to them," chuckled Cronin.
"You're right there, Jim!"
"I'll bet I am!" cried Cronin.
"Then your notion would be to plant time bombs at the factories so they will go off in the night?"
"Yes," confessed Cronin, a shadow of regret in his tone. "That will carry off only a few watchmen and engineers. Mighty tough luck for them."
"It can't be helped," Sullivan said ruthlessly. "You can't expect to carry through a thing of this sort without some sacrifice. All we can do is to believe that the end justifies the means. It's a case of the greatest good to the greatest number."
"I—suppose—so."
"Well, then, why hesitate?"
"I ain't hesitating," announced Cronin quickly. "I just happened to remember Maguire. He's one of the night watchmen at the upper mill and a friend of mine."