“And damned good mechanics!” he had pointedly informed his foreman. “Now you can tell those blasted micks, kikes and dagos they can leave any time they don’t like what we’re paying.” Labor organizations were getting troublesome in Baltimore, but so far he had been fairly lucky in getting around them. He shuddered, however, looking into the bleak future. He’d better save all the money he could now by hiring more cheap niggers. The white workers had swallowed their disappointment. Some of the more skilled did leave, swearing vengeance, but most of them hung on to their jobs. “If we could only kill off these niggers!” They did what they could, seriously injuring several, and bided their time. Their chance came when Gardiner ambitiously contracted to build two large man-of-war vessels, professedly for the Mexican government. It was a rush job. The vessels were to be launched in August. Failure to do so would cause the shipbuilder to forfeit a very considerable sum of money. Work was speeded up. Some of the blacks were given jobs requiring the highest skill. Then, all at once, the white carpenters swore they would no longer work beside the freedmen. William Gardiner saw his money sinking to the bottom of Chesapeake Bay. Frantic, he appealed to his friend and associate, Hugh Auld. The small shipbuilder was flattered. Gardiner was a powerful man. Mr. Auld took the matter under consideration and came up with a solution. “Let some of the niggers go,” he said. “Then take over a lot of apprentices--whites and blacks. Work them at top speed under good supervision. You’ll pull through.” The older man frowned, pulling at his stubby mustache. “Oh, come now.” Mr. Auld clapped his friend on the back. “I’ve got several good boys I can let you have.” Frederick was one of the apprentices sent to the Fells Point shipyard. He had worked hard and under very good instruction. But when he arrived at Gardiner’s yard he found himself in a very different situation. Here everything was hurry and drive. His section had about a hundred men; of these, seventy or eighty were regular carpenters--privileged men. There was no time for a raw hand to learn anything. Frederick was directed to do whatever the carpenters told him. This placed him at the beck and call of about seventy-five men. He was to regard all of them as his masters. He was called a dozen ways in the space of a single minute. He needed a dozen pairs of hands. “Boy, come help me cant this here timber.” “Boy, bring that roller here!” “Hold on the end of this fall.” “Hullo, nigger! Come turn this grindstone.” “Run bring me a cold chisel!” “I say, darky, blast your eyes! Why don’t you heat up some pitch?” It went on hour after hour. “Halloo! Halloo! Halloo!”--“Come here--go there--hold on where you are.” “Damn you, if you move I’ll knock your brains out!”