Hartley shrugs his shoulders.
"Could you call all those fellows back as easily as you sent them off?" demands Tyler.
"Quite," says Hartley. "I wouldn't, though, until you had fired those scab plumbers."
"I see," says Z. K. "And if I did fire 'em, do you think you have influence enough to get a full crew of union men to finish this job by next Saturday?"
"Oh, yes," says Hartley. "I could put fifty men at work here Monday morning—if I wanted to."
"H-m-m-m!" says Z. K., caressin' his left ear. "It's rather a big house for just your mother and me to live in. Plenty of room for another family. And I suppose a good studio could be fixed up on the third floor. Well, son, want to call it a trade?"
"I'll have to talk to Edith first," says Hartley. "I think she'll like it, and I'll bet you'll like her, too."
Uh-huh! From late reports I hear that Hartley was right both ways. A few days later Mr. Robert tells me that the Tylers are all preparin' to move out together. He had seen the whole four of 'em havin' a reunion dinner at the Plutoria, and says they all seemed very chummy.
"Just like they was members of One Big Union, eh?" says I. "But say, Hartley's right up to date in his methods of handlin' a wrathy parent, ain't he? Call a strike on 'em. That's the modern style. I wonder if he's got it patented?"