"Well," said he, "you know why, I suppose. We're taking a fresh start, and I've something to say to you. I've had my say here for some time; but I've not had my way, and now the time's come when I _can_ have it. Hang me, but I'm going to have the biggest place in England, and the best place, too. 'Haworth's' sha'n't be second to none. I've set my mind on that. I said I'd stand here some day,"--with a blow on the desk,--"and here I am. I said I'd make my way, and I've done it. From to-day on, this here's 'Haworth's,' and to show you I mean to start fair and square, if there's a chap here that's got a grievance, let that chap step out and speak his mind to Jem Haworth himself. Now's his time." And he sat down. There was another stir and murmur, this time rather of consultation; then one of them stepped forward. "Mester," he said, "I'm to speak fur 'em." Haworth nodded. "What I've getten to say," said the man, "is said easy. Them as thowt they'd getten grievances is willin' to leave the settlin' on 'em to Jem Haworth." "That's straight enough," said Haworth. "Let 'em stick to it and there's not a chap among 'em sha'n't have his chance. Go into Greyson's room, lads, and drink luck to 'Haworth's.' Tipton and Harrison, you wait a bit." Tipton and Harrison lingered with some degree of timidity. By the time the room had emptied itself, Haworth seemed to have fallen into a reverie. He leaned back in his chair, his hands in his pockets, and stared gloomily before him. The room had been silent five minutes before he aroused himself with a start. Then he leaned forward and beckoned to the two, who came and stood before him. "You two were in the place when I came," he said. "You"--to Tipton--"were the fellow as lifted me from the snow." "Aye, mester," was the answer, "twenty year' ago, to-neet." "The other fellow----" "Dead! Eh! Long sin'. Ivvery chap as wur theer, dead an' gone, but me an' him," with a jerk toward his comrade. Haworth put his hand in his vest-pocket and drew forth a crisp piece of paper, evidently placed there for a purpose. "Here," he said with some awkwardness, "divide that between you." "Betwixt us two!" stammered the old man. "It's a ten-pun-note, mester!" "Yes," with something like shamefacedness. "I used to say to myself when I was a youngster that every chap who was in the Works that night should have a five-pound note to-day. Get out, old lads, and get as drunk as you please. I've kept my word. But--" his laugh breaking off in the middle--"I wish there'd been more of you to keep it up together." Then they were gone, chuckling in senile delight over their good luck, and he was left alone. He glanced round the room--a big, handsome one, well filled with massive office furniture, and yet wearing the usual empty, barren look. "It's taken twenty years," he said, "but I've done it. It's _done_--and yet there isn't as much of it as I used to think there would be."