"Exactly," said Mr. Underwood. "It means a gain of two bits a day to each man; it means loss and inconvenience to the companies, and it means a big pile of money in the pockets of the bosses who are running the thing." "There are not many of the owners up there that can stand that sort of thing," said Darrell, reflectively. "Of course they can't stand it, and they won't stand it if they've got any backbone! Take Dwight and Huntley; they've been to heavy expense in enlarging their mill and have just put up a new boarding-house, and they're in debt; they can't afford to have all that work and expenditure for nothing. Now, with us the loss wouldn't be so great as with the others, for we don't make so much out of our boarding-house. My motto has always been 'Live and let live,' and I give my men a good table,--just what I'd want for myself if I were in their places. It isn't the financial part that troubles me. What I object to is this: I won't have my men tramping three-quarters of a mile for meals that won't be as good as they can get right on their own grounds; more than that, I've got a good, likely set of men, and I won't have them demoralized by herding them in with the tough gangs from those other camps; and above all and once for all,"--here Mr. Underwood's tones became excited as he exclaimed, with an oath,--"I've always been capable of running my own business, and I'll run it yet, and no damned union boss will ever run it for me!" "How do the men feel about it? Have you talked with them?" Darrell inquired. "There isn't one of them that's dissatisfied or would leave of his own free will," Mr. Underwood replied, "but I don't suppose they would dare to stand out against the bosses. Why, man, if the workingmen only knew it, they are ten times worse slaves to the union bosses than ever they were to corporations. They have to pay over their wages to let those fellows live like nabobs; they have to come and go at their beck and call, and throw up good positions and live in enforced idleness because of some other fellows' grievances; they don't dare express an opinion or say their souls are their own. Humph!" "Mr. Underwood," said Darrell, who had been smilingly listening to the other's tirade, "what will you do if this comes to a strike?" "Strike!" he exclaimed in tones of scathing contempt. "Strike? I'll strike too, and they'll find I can strike just as hard as they can, and a little harder!" "Will you close down?" The shrewd face grew a bit shrewder. "If it's necessary to close down," he remarked, evasively, "I'll close down. I guess I can stand it as long as they can. Those mines have lain there in those rocks idle for centuries, for aught that I know; 'twon't hurt 'em to lie idle a few weeks or months now; nobody'll run off with 'em, I guess." Darrell laughed aloud. "Well, one thing is certain, Mr. Underwood; I, for one, wouldn't want to quarrel with you!"