The manager allowed his hand to hover for a moment over a nest of pigeon-holes, then he drew out a paper and handed it to Marsten. “There is the strength of the Union,” he said, “down to the seventeen pounds eight shillings and twopence they put in the bank yesterday afternoon. If you want any information about your Union, Marsten, I shall be happy to oblige you with it.” The young man opened his eyes as he looked at the figures. “It is a very large sum,” he said. “A respectable fighting fund,” remarked Sartwell, impartially. “But how many Saturdays do you think it would stand the drain of the pay-roll of this establishment?” “Not very many perhaps.” “It would surprise you to know how few. The men look at one side of this question only, while I am compelled to look at two sides. If any Saturday their pay was not forthcoming, they would not be pleased, would they? Now I have to scheme and plan so that the money is there every Saturday, and besides there must be enough more to pay the firm for its investment and its risk. These little details may not seem important to a demagogue who knows nothing of business, but who can harangue a body of men and make them dissatisfied. I should be very pleased to give him my place here for a month or two while I took a rest, and then we would see whether he thought there was anything in my point of view.” “Mr. Sartwell,” said Marsten, looking suddenly at the manager, “some of the more moderate men asked me to-night a similar question to one of yours.” “What question was that?” “They asked if I had any influence with you.” “Yes? And you told them----?” “That I didn’t know.” “Well, you will never know until you test the point. Have you anything to suggest?” “Many are against a strike, but even the more moderate think you are wrong in refusing to see the delegation. They think the refusal seems high-handed, and that if you were compelled to reject any requests made, you ought not to let things come to a crisis without at least allowing the delegation to present the men’s case.” “And do you think I am wrong in this?” “I do.” “Very well. I’ll settle that in a moment. You get some of the more moderate together--head the delegation yourself. I will make an appointment with you, and we will talk the matter over.” The young man did not appear so satisfied with this prompt concession as might have been expected. He did not reply for some moments, while the elder man looked at him critically, with his back against the tall desk. At last Marsten spoke: “I could not lead the delegation, being one of the youngest in the employ of the firm. The secretary of the Union is the leader the men have chosen.”