<h2>XIV</h2>
<p>On the third morning after Torrini's expulsion from the yard,
Mr. Slocum walked into the studio with a printed slip in his
hand. A similar slip lay crumpled under a work-bench, where
Richard had tossed it. Mr. Slocum's kindly visage was full of
trouble and perplexity as he raised his eyes from the paper,
which he had been re-reading on the way up-stairs.</p>
<p>"Look at that!"</p>
<p>"Yes," remarked Richard, "I have been honored with one of
those documents."</p>
<p>"What does it mean?"</p>
<p>"It means business."</p>
<p>The paper in question contained a series of resolutions
unanimously adopted at a meeting of the Marble Workers'
Association of Stillwater, held in Grimsey's Hall the previous
night. Dropping the preamble, these resolutions, which were
neatly printed with a type-writing machine on a half letter
sheet, ran as follows:--</p>
<p><i>Resolved,</i> That on and after the First of June proximo,
the pay of carvers in Slocum's Marble Yard shall be $2.75 per
day, instead of $2.50 as heretofore.</p>
<p><i>Resolved,</i> That on and after the same date, the rubbers
and polishers shall have $2.00 per day, instead of $1.75 as
heretofore.</p>
<p><i>Resolved,</i> That on and after the same date the millmen
are to have $2.00 per day, instead of $1.75 as heretofore.</p>
<p><i>Resolved,</i> That during the months of June, July, and
August the shops shall knock off work on Saturdays at five P.M.,
instead of at six P.M.</p>
<p><i>Resolved,</i> That a printed copy of these Resolutions be
laid before the Proprietor of Slocum's Marble Yard, and that his
immediate attention to them be respectfully requested. <i>Per
order of Committee M. W. A.</i></p>
<p>"Torrini is at the bottom of that," said Mr. Slocum.</p>
<p>"I hardly think so. This arrangement, as I told you the other
day before I had the trouble with him, has been in contemplation
several weeks. Undoubtedly Torrini used his influence to hasten
the movement already planned. The Association has too much
shrewdness to espouse the quarrel of an individual."</p>
<p>"What are we to do?"</p>
<p>"If you are in the same mind you were when we talked over the
possibility of an unreasonable demand like this, there is only
one thing to do."</p>
<p>"Fight it?"</p>
<p>"Fight it."</p>
<p>"I have been resolute, and all that sort of thing, in times
past," observed Mr. Slocum, glancing out of the tail of his eye
at Richard, "and have always come off second best. The
Association has drawn up most of my rules for me, and had its own
way generally."</p>
<p>"Since my time you have never been in so strong a position to
make a stand. We have got all the larger contracts out of the
way. Foreseeing what was likely to come, I have lately fought shy
of taking new ones. Here are heavy orders from Rafter & Son, the
Builders' Company, and others. We must decline them by to-night's
mail."</p>
<p>"Is it really necessary?" asked Mr. Slocum, knitting his
forehead into what would have been a scowl if his mild pinkish
eyebrows had permitted it.</p>
<p>"I think so."</p>
<p>"I hate to do that."</p>
<p>"Then we are at the mercy of the Association."</p>
<p>"If we do not come to their terms, you seriously believe they
will strike?"</p>
<p>"I do," replied Richard, "and we should be in a pretty
fix."</p>
<p>"But these demands are ridiculous."</p>
<p>"The men are not aware of our situation; they imagine we have
a lot of important jobs on hand, as usual at this season.
Formerly the foreman of a shop had access to the order-book, but
for the last year or two I have kept it in the safe here. The
other day Dexter came to me and wanted to see what work was set
down ahead in the blotter; but I had an inspiration and didn't
let him post himself."</p>
<p>"Is not some kind of compromise possible?" suggested Mr.
Slocum, looking over the slip again. "Now this fourth clause,
about closing the yard an hour early on Saturdays, I don't
strongly object to that, though with eighty hands it means, every
week, eighty hours' work which the yard pays for and doesn't
get."</p>
<p>"I should advise granting that request. Such concessions are
never wasted. But, Mr. Slocum, this is not going to satisfy them.
They have thrown in one reasonable demand merely to flavor the
rest. I happen to know that they are determined to stand by their
programme to the last letter."</p>
<p>"You know that?"</p>
<p>"I have a friend at court. Of course this is not to be
breathed, but Denyven, without being at all false to his
comrades, talks freely with me. He says they are resolved not to
give an inch."</p>
<p>"Then we will close the works."</p>
<p>"That is what I wanted you to say, sir!" cried Richard.</p>
<p>"With this new scale of prices and plenty of work, we might
probably come out a little ahead the next six months; but it
wouldn't pay for the trouble and the capital invested. Then when
trade slackened, we should be running at a loss, and there'd be
another wrangle over a reduction. We had better lie idle."</p>
<p>"Stick to that, sir, and may be it will not be necessary."</p>
<p>"But if they strike"--</p>
<p>"They won't all strike. At least," added Richard, "I hope not.
I have indirectly sounded several of the older hands, and they
have half promised to hold on; only half promised, for every man
of them at heart fears the trades-union more than No-bread--until
No-bread comes."</p>
<p>"Whom have you spoken with?"</p>
<p>"Lumley, Giles, Peterson, and some others,--your pensioners, I
call them."</p>
<p>"Yes, they were in the yard in my father's time; they have not
been worth their salt these ten years. When the business was
turned over to me I didn't discharge any old hand who had given
his best days to the yard. Somehow I couldn't throw away the
squeezed lemons. An employer owes a good workman something beyond
the wages paid."</p>
<p>"And a workman owes a good employer something beyond the work
done. You stood by these men after they outlived their
usefulness, and if they do not stand by you now, they're a shabby
set."</p>
<p>"I fancy they will, Richard."</p>
<p>"I think they had better, and I wish they would. We have
enough odds and ends to keep them busy awhile, and I shouldn't
like to have the clinking of chisels die out altogether under the
old sheds."</p>
<p>"Nor I," returned Mr. Slocum, with a touch of sadness in his
intonation. "It has grown to be a kind of music to me," and he
paused to listen to the sounds of ringing steel that floated up
from the workshop.</p>
<p>"Whatever happens, that music shall not cease in the yard
except on Sundays, if I have to take the mallet and go at a slab
all alone."</p>
<p>"Slocum's Yard with a single workman in it would be a pleasing
spectacle," said Mr. Slocum, smiling ruefully.</p>
<p>"It wouldn't be a bad time for <i>that</i> workman to strike,"
returned Richard with a laugh.</p>
<p>"He could dictate his own terms," returned Mr. Slocum,
soberly. "Well, I suppose you cannot help thinking about
Margaret; but don't think of her now. Tell me what answer you
propose to give the Association,--how you mean to put it; for I
leave the matter wholly to you. I shall have no hand in it,
further than to indorse your action."</p>
<p>"To-morrow, then," said Richard, "for it is no use to hurry up
a crisis, I shall go to the workshops and inform them that their
request for short hours on Saturdays is granted, but that the
other changes they suggest are not to be considered. There will
never be a better opportunity, Mr. Slocum, to settle another
question which has been allowed to run too long."</p>
<p>"What's that?"</p>
<p>"The apprentice question."</p>
<p>"Would it be wise to touch on that at present?"</p>
<p>"While we are straightening out matters and putting things on
a solid basis, it seems to me essential to settle that. There was
never a greater imposition, or one more short-sighted, than this
rule which prevents the training of sufficient workmen. The
trades-union will discover their error some day when they have
succeeded in forcing manufacturers to import skilled labor by the
wholesale. I would like to tell the Marble Workers' Association
that Slocum's Yard has resolved to employ as many apprentices
each year as there is room for."</p>
<p>"I wouldn't dare risk it!"</p>
<p>"It will have to be done, sooner or later. It would be a
capital flank movement now. They have laid themselves open to an
attack on that quarter."</p>
<p>"I might as well close the gates for good and all."</p>
<p>"So you will, if it comes to that. You can afford to close the
gates, and they can't afford to have you. In a week they'd be
back, asking you to open them. Then you could have your pick of
the live hands, and drop the dead wood. If Giles or Peterson or
Lumley or any of those desert us, they are not to be let on
again. I hope you will promise me that, sir."</p>
<p>"If the occasion offers, you shall reorganize the shops in
your own way. I haven't the nerve for this kind of business,
though I have seen a great deal of it in the villages, first and
last. Strikes are terrible mistakes. Even when they succeed, what
pays for the lost time and the money squandered over the
tavern-bar? What makes up for the days or weeks when the fire was
out on the hearth and the children had no bread? That is what
happens, you know."</p>
<p>"There is no remedy for such calamities," Richard answered.
"Yet I can imagine occasions when it would be better to let the
fire go out and the children want for bread."</p>
<p>"You are not advocating strikes!" exclaimed Mr. Slocum.</p>
<p>"Why not?"</p>
<p>"I thought you were for fighting them."</p>
<p>"So I am, in this instance; but the question has two sides.
Every man has the right to set a price on his own labor, and to
refuse to work for less; the wisdom of it is another matter. He
puts himself in the wrong only when he menaces the person or the
property of the man who has an equal right not to employ him.
That is the blunder strikers usually make in the end, and one by
which they lose public sympathy even when they are fighting an
injustice. Now, sometimes it <i>is</i> an injustice that is being
fought, and then it is right to fight it with the only weapon a
poor man has to wield against a power which possesses a hundred
weapons,--and that's a strike. For example, the smelters and
casters in the Miantowona Iron Works are meanly underpaid."</p>
<p>"What, have they struck?"</p>
<p>"There's a general strike threatened in the village;
foundry-men, spinners, and all."</p>
<p>"So much the worse for everybody! I did not suppose it was as
bad as that. What has become of Torrini?"</p>
<p>"The day after he left us he was taken on as forgeman at
Dana's."</p>
<p>"I am glad Dana has got him!"</p>
<p>"At the meeting, last night, Torrini gave in his resignation
as secretary of the Association; being no longer a marble worker,
he was not qualified to serve."</p>
<p>"We unhorsed him, then?"</p>
<p>"Rather. I am half sorry, too."</p>
<p>"Richard," said Mr. Slocum, halting in one of his nervous
walks up and down the room, "you are the oddest composition of
hardness and softness I ever saw."</p>
<p>"Am I?"</p>
<p>"One moment you stand braced like a lion to fight the whole
yard, and the next moment you are pitying a miscreant who would
have laid your head open without the slightest compunction."</p>
<p>"Oh, I forgive him," said Richard. "I was a trifle hasty
myself. Margaret thinks so too."</p>
<p>"Much Margaret knows about it!"</p>
<p>"I was inconsiderate, to say the least. When a man picks up a
tool by the wrong end he must expect to get cut."</p>
<p>"You didn't have a choice."</p>
<p>"I shouldn't have touched Torrini. After discharging him and
finding him disposed to resist my order to leave the yard, I
ought to have called in a constable. Usually it is very hard to
anger me; but three or four times in my life I have been carried
away by a devil of a temper which I couldn't control, it seized
me so unawares. That was one of the times."</p>
<p>The mallets and chisels were executing a blithe staccato
movement in the yard below, and making the sparks dance. No one
walking among the diligent gangs, and observing the placid faces
of the men as they bent over their tasks, would have suspected
that they were awaiting the word that meant bread and meat and
home to them.</p>
<p>As Richard passed through the shops, dropping a word to a
workman here and there, the man addressed looked up cheerfully
and made a furtive dab at the brown paper cap, and Richard
returned the salute smilingly; but he was sad within. "The
foolish fellows," he said to himself, "they are throwing away a
full loaf and are likely to get none at all." Giles and two or
three of the ancients were squaring a block of marble under a
shelter by themselves. Richard made it a point to cross over and
speak to them. In past days he had not been exacting with these
old boys, and they always had a welcome for him.</p>
<p>Slocum's Yard seldom presented a serener air of contented
industry than it wore that morning; but in spite of all this
smooth outside it was a foregone conclusion with most of the men
that Slocum, with Shackford behind him, would never submit to the
new scale of wages. There were a few who had protested against
these resolutions and still disapproved of them, but were forced
to go with the Association, which had really been dragged into
the current by the other trades.</p>
<p>The Dana Mills and the Miantowona Iron Works were paying
lighter wages than similar establishments nearer the great city.
The managers contended that they were paying as high if not
higher rates, taking into consideration the cheaper cost of
living in Stillwater. "But you get city prices for your wares,"
retorted the union; "you don't pay city rents, and you shall pay
city wages." Meetings were held at Grimsey's Hall and the subject
was canvassed, at first calmly and then stormily. Among the
molders, and possibly the sheet-iron workers, there was cause for
dissatisfaction; but the dissatisfaction spread to where no
grievance existed; it seized upon the spinners, and finally upon
the marble workers. Torrini fanned the flame there. Taking for
his text the rentage question, he argued that Slocum was well
able to give a trifle more for labor than his city competitors.
"The annual rent of a yard like Slocum's would be four thousand
or five thousand dollars in the city. It doesn't cost Slocum two
hundred dollars. It is no more than just that the laborer should
have a share--he only asks a beggarly share--of the prosperity
which he has helped to build up." This was specious and taking.
Then there came down from the great city a glib person disguised
as The Workingman's Friend,--no workingman himself, mind you, but
a ghoul that lives upon subscriptions and sucks the senses out of
innocent human beings,--who managed to set the place by the ears.
The result of all which was that one May morning every shop,
mill, and factory in Stillwater was served with a notice from the
trades-union, and a general strike threatened.</p>
<p>But our business at present is exclusively with Slocum's
Yard.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />