There had been but a hair’s breadth between them and a discharge from the tannery! To Peter the danger was not a very real one, but Nat, who was in ignorance of the true facts, was pale with fright.
“Whew, Peter! That was a close call,” he stammered. “A narrow squeak! But for Mr. Coddington we should both have been fired. I don’t know what I should have done if I had lost my place. It was mighty good of him to give us another chance, wasn’t it?”
“Mr. Coddington is all right, you can bet your life on that!” agreed Peter heartily. “It was lucky, though, that he was here.”
Still aglow with excitement, the boys flew down over the stairs and took up their work, making no further allusion to the incident.
But that night when Peter got home his father called him into the library and motioning to a chair before the open fire, observed dryly:
“Your friend Strong had a narrow escape to-day, Peter.”
“Yes, sir. But for you he would have lost his job.”
“I’m afraid so,” the president nodded. “Since noon I have been thinking the matter over. What Strong said brought things before me in an entirely new light. I don’t think I ever realized before some of the conditions at the tanneries.”
“If it were possible—mind, I do not say it could be done—but if a scheme could be worked out to make a big sort of rest room where the men could go at noon do you think that would obviate the difficulties of my employees? Would it prevent them from converting packing-cases into lunch rooms?”