“Mr. Ditmar,” she answered.
“The agent of the Chippering Mill?”
She nodded.
“He's the worst of the lot,” Rolfe said angrily. “If it weren't for him, we'd have this strike won to-day. He owns this town, he's run it to suit himself, He stiffens up the owners and holds the other mills in line. He's a type, a driver, the kind of man we must get rid of. Look at him—he lives in luxury while his people are starving.”
“Get rid of!” repeated Janet, in an odd voice.
“Oh, I don't mean to shoot him,” Rolfe declared. “But he may get shot, for all I know, by some of these slaves he's made desperate.”
“They wouldn't dare shoot him,” Janet said. “And whatever he is, he isn't a coward. He's stronger than the others, he's more of a man.”
Rolfe looked at her curiously.
“What do you know about him?” he asked.
“I—I know all about him. I was his stenographer.”