(A motor car, GERALD BARLOW driving, OLIVER TURTON with him has pulled up.)

Job Arthur (glancing at the car).  No, I didn’t.

Willie.  Didn’t you, though?—­Come, speak up, let us have it.  The more the merrier.  You were going to say something.

Job Arthur.  Nay, you were doing the talking.

Willie.  Yes, so I was, till you interrupted, with a great idea on the tip of your tongue.  Come, spit it out.  No matter if Mr. Barlow hears you.  You know how sorry for you we feel, that you’ve always got to make your speeches twice—­once to those above, and once to us here below I didn’t meant the angels and the devils, but never mind.  Speak up, Job Arthur.

Job Arthur.  It’s not everybody as has as much to say as you, Mr. Houghton.

Willie.  No, not in the open—­that’s a fact.  Some folks says a great deal more, in semi-private.  You were just going to explain to me, on behalf of the men, whom you so ably represent and so wisely lead, Job Arthur—­we won’t say by the nose—­you were just going to tell me—­on behalf of the men, of course, not of the masters—­that you think of others, besides yourself.  Do you mind explaining what others?

Job Arthur.  Everybody’s used to your talk, Mr. Houghton, and for that reason it doesn’t make much impression.  What I meant to say, in plain words, was that we have to think of what’s best for everybody, not only of ourselves.

Willie.  Oh, I see.  What’s best for everybody!  I see!  Well, for myself, I’m much obliged—­there’s nothing for us to do, gentlemen, but for all of us to bow acknowledgments to Mr. Job Arthur Freer, who so kindly has all our interests at heart.

Job Arthur.  I don’t profess to be a red-rag Socialist.  I don’t pretend to think that if the Government had the pits it would be any better for us.  No.  What I mean is, that the pits are there and every man on this place depends on them, one way or another.  They’re the cow that gives the milk.  And what I mean is, how every man shall have a proper share of the milk, which is food and living.  It’s like killing the goose that laid the golden egg.  I want to keep the cow healthy and strong.  And the cow is the pits, and we’re the men that depend on the pits.

Willie.  Who’s the cat that’s going to lick the cream?

Job Arthur.  My position is this—­and I state it before masters and men—­that it’s our business to strike such a balance between the interests of the men and the interests of the masters that the pits remain healthy, and everybody profits.