Some of the men were laughing, others growling, but all had their eyes fixed on Peterson and Donnelly as they came across the tracks, slowly picking their way, and shifting the weight a little, at every few seconds, on their shoulders. Bannon was glancing swiftly about, taking in the situation. He would not imperil his discipline by reproving Peterson before the men, so he stood for a moment, thinking, until the task should be accomplished. "It's Briggs that did the whole business," Max was saying. "He brought the delegate around--he was blowing about it among the men when I found him." "Is he on the job now?" Bannon asked. "No, and I don't think he'll be around again very soon. There were some loafers with him, and they took him away." Peterson and Donnelly had disappeared through the fence, and a few of the crowd were following, to see them get the timber clear around the building to the pile. "Have you sent out flagmen, Max?" Bannon asked. "No, I didn't." "Get at it quick--send a man each way with a lantern--put something red over them, their shirts if necessary." "None of the men will dare do it while the delegate's here." "Find some one--take one side yourself, if you have to." Max hurried away for the lanterns, Bannon walked out to the group of men on the middle tracks. "Where's Mr. Grady?" he said. One of the men pointed, but the delegate gave no attention. "You're Mr. Grady, are you?" said Bannon. "I'm Mr. Bannon, of MacBride & Company. What's the trouble here?" The delegate was revelling in his authority: his manner was not what it was to be when he should know Bannon better. He waved his hand toward the wharf. "You ought to know better than that," he said curtly. "Than what?" "Than what?--than running a job the way this is run." "I think I can run this job," said Bannon, quietly. "You haven't told me what's the trouble yet." "It's right here--you're trying to make money by putting on one man to do the work of two." "How?" Bannon's quiet manner exasperated the delegate. "Use your eyes, man--you can't make eight men carry a twelve-by-fourteen stick." "How many shall I put on?" "Ten." "All right." "And you'd better put eight men on the other sticks." The delegate looked up, nettled that Bannon should yield so easily. "That's all right," said Bannon. "We aren't fighting the union. After this, if you've got anything to say, I wish you'd come to me with it before you call off the men. Is there anything else before I start up?" Grady was chewing the stub of a cigar. He stood looking about with an ugly air, then he said:-- "You ain't starting up just yet." "Why not?"