“Ah, you haven’t forgotten that yet!” said Sartwell, with a laugh. “But you do forget apparently that you were here on invitation before,--during the strike, you know.” “Yes, so I was.” “Now, Marsten, to begin with, have you any personal ill feeling against me for your summary dismissal?” “Not the slightest. I should probably have acted as you did under the same circumstances.” “It is generous of you to say that, but I doubt if you would. However, not attempting to excuse myself at all, I may say that the event did not quite turn out as I expected. I hoped that you would call on me, and that we would--well, arrange an armistice, as it were.” “I thought you knew me better than that.” “I didn’t, you see. But let the dead past bury its dead. Let us give our attention to the present and to the future, and I shall begin by asking if you have any suspicion that you are a fool?” “A most diplomatic and soothing beginning, Mr. Sartwell. However, I suppose we are all more or less tinged with folly, so we won’t quarrel about terms; but we seem to see the defects of others rather clearer than we see our own.” “That is undoubtedly true. It strikes me, then, that you are wasting your life, and I would like to convince you of that before it is too late.” “Yes?” “Yes. I want an assistant manager. He must be a man of ability and a man I can trust. I am getting on in years, and will soon stand aside. My assistant, if he has the right stuff in him, will take my place, and the future will belong to him. I offer you the position.” “I cannot accept it.” “Why?” “Because I have devoted my life to the men.” “But you will have an opportunity of doing more for the men in that position than you can possibly do for them in your present office, where they grudgingly pay you barely enough to keep body and soul together.” “I don’t mean the men in these works, but all workingmen everywhere.” “Rather a large order, Marsten.” “I know it is, but I feel equal to filling it.” “I don’t suppose you imagine I make you this offer because I am afraid of you as secretary of the Union.” “Oh, no. I am well aware that you want to avoid a fight, and I know you are afraid of nothing except that your directors will not back you through to a finish.” “Do you imagine that your own backers are as adamant?” “No. My weakness is Gibbons and his gang. Yours is the board of directors. One neutralizes the other, so it will be an interesting fight.” “Make no mistake, my boy; a capitalist will back his man ten times as long as a worker will his.”