Bert.  I’ve left the shops, Mr. Pindar,—­I got through last night.

Asher.  Left the shops!  You didn’t say anything about this, Timothy!

Timothy.  No, sir,—­you have trouble enough today.

Asher (to Bert).  Why did you leave?

Bert.  I’m going to enlist, Mr. Pindar,—­with the Marines.  From what
I’ve heard of that corps, I think I’d like to join it.

Asher (exasperated).  But why do you do a thing like this when you must know I need every man here to help turn out these machines?  And especially young men like you, good mechanics!  If you wanted to serve your country, you were better off where you were.  I got you exempted —­(catching himself) I mean, you were exempted from the draft.

Bert.  I didn’t want to be exempted, sir.  More than four hundred of the boys have gone from the shops, as well as Mr. George here, and I couldn’t stand it no longer.

Asher.  What’s Mr. George got to do with it?  The cases are different.

Bert (stoutly).  I don’t see that, Mr. Pindar.  Every man, no matter who he is, has to decide a thing like this for himself.

George.  Bert’s right, dad.

Asher.  You say he’s right, when you know that I need every hand I can get to carry out this contract?

George.  He’s going to make a contract, too.  He’s giving up all he has.

Asher.  And you approve of this, Timothy?

Timothy.  Sure, I couldn’t stop him, Mr. Pindar!  And it’s proud I am of him, the same as you are of Mr. George, that he’d be fighting for America and liberty.

Asher.  Liberty!  License is what we’re getting now!  The workman thinks he can do as he pleases.  And after all I’ve done for my workmen, —­building them a club house with a piano in it, and a library and a billiard table, trying to do my best to make them comfortable and contented.  I pay them enough to buy pianos and billiard tables for themselves, and you tell me they want still higher wages.

Timothy.  They’re saying they can go down to the shipyards, where they’d be getting five dollars and thirty cents a day.

Asher.  Let them go to the shipyards, if they haven’t any sense of gratitude!  What else do they say?

Timothy.  That you have a contract, sir, and making millions out of it.

Asher.  What can they know about my profits?

Timothy.  It’s just that, sir,—­they know nothing at all.  But they’re saying they ought to know, since things is different now, and they’re working for the war and the country, the same as yourself.

Asher.  Haven’t I established a system of bonuses, to share my profits with the efficient and the industrious?

Timothy.  They don’t understand the bonuses,—­how you come by them.  Autocracy is the word they use.  And they say you put up a notice sudden like, without asking them, that there’d be two long shifts instead of three eight-hour ones.  They’re willing to work twelve hours on end, for the war, they say, but they’d want to be consulted.